The biggest bitch in cell block B by Kokoji
Summary:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


A secret medical trial in a high security,  all womens penitentiary threatens to destabilise the balance of the prison ecosystem.  And maybe even the entire prison. 


Categories: Giantess, Young Adult 20-29, Adult 30-39, Breast Enlargement, Crush, Destruction, Feet, Growing/Shrinking Out of Clothes, Growing Woman, Humiliation, Muscle, Slow Size Change, Violent Characters: None
Growth: Amazon (7 ft. to 15 ft.), Brobdnignagian (51 ft. to 100 ft.), Giant (31 ft. to 50 ft.)
Shrink: None
Size Roles: F/f, F/m, FF/f, FF/m
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences, This story is for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 22 Completed: Yes Word count: 107903 Read: 52093 Published: June 28 2022 Updated: January 14 2023

1. Chapter 1: G37 Trial - Week 3 by Kokoji

2. Chapter 2: G37 Trial - Week 3 part 2 by Kokoji

3. Chapter 3: G37 Trial - Week 4 by Kokoji

4. Chapter 4: G37 trial - Week 4 part 2 by Kokoji

5. Chapter 5: G37 trial - Week 4 part 3 by Kokoji

6. Chapter 6: G37 trial - Week 5 by Kokoji

7. Chapter 7: G37 trial - Week 5 part 2 by Kokoji

8. Chapter 8: G37 Trial - Week 5 interlude by Kokoji

9. Chapter 9: G37 Trial - Week 5 part 3 by Kokoji

10. Chapter 10: G37 trial - Week 5 part 4 by Kokoji

11. Chapter 11: G37 Trial - Week 5 Aftermath by Kokoji

12. Chapter 12: The start of the end by Kokoji

13. Chapter 13: A headless snake can still bite by Kokoji

14. Chapter 14: Answers by Kokoji

15. Chapter 15: Vendetta by Kokoji

16. Chapter 16: An uneasy truce by Kokoji

17. Chapter 17: The clash by Kokoji

18. Chapter 18: One last chance by Kokoji

19. Chapter 19: Perfection by Kokoji

20. Chapter 20: Grief by Kokoji

21. Alternate ending B by Kokoji

22. Alternate ending C - The darkest timeline by Kokoji

Chapter 1: G37 Trial - Week 3 by Kokoji

Jennifer looked through the chain linked fence at the vast expanse of sun-baked sand. They were in the middle of no where. Nothing but desert and open road for miles. The perfect place for a prison. San Pedro high security penitentiary.

Jennifer scoffed at the idea of it. What a pointless waste of resources. A concrete and steel monster dropped into a harsh environment. She looked up at the concrete towers looming over head, guards watching with their rifles slung on their shoulders. Always watching. Always ready to come down like a gavel with their justice for whatever reason, no matter how petty.


The inmate ran her fingers through her short bob of bleach blonde hair, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She wasn't built for the heat. She was used to living in cooler places. This was basically hell compared to home...

Jennifer thought back to the journey that brought her to this hell hole. The streak of art thefts across the country. Her crime wasn't really one that should have landed her here with killers and gang members. The judge had been especially harsh on her because she hadn't given up her clients.  But when your clients were as ruthless and powerful as hers was.... Well, it was either this or being buried in an unmarked grave in the woods.

The clanging of weights and cheering snatched Jennifer's attention out of the inky darkness of her thoughts. She turned to see a huddle of women around the bench.  They didn't get much time in the yard, well, not until recently anyway. When they did, most used the time to stay fit. Run laps, work on cardio, boxing, training, or, in this case, lifting weights.

The orange ocean of bodies parted slightly and Jennifer caught a glimpse of what was causing the commotion.  In between all the orange was one person on the bench, clad in red. Vásquez. She was benching a ridiculous weight. Well, ridiculous for Jennifer anyway. It must have been 220lbs at least. More than Jennifer weighed. More than most people in the prison weighed.

Jennifer could see Vásquez's arms quaking as she pushed the weight skywards. Bulges of caramel muscle seemed to swell as the weight climbed higher and higher. Then finally, she racked it and the cheering got louder.  Vásquez sat up with a smug pride radiating off of her. She'd just broken her own record for heaviest bench in the cell block. Her teeth shone brightly, contrasting against her tan skin as she pulled her pony tail tighter.  The act made her lats widen as her chest expanded with an inhale. Jennifer could see the bra through her white vest. Her red jumpsuit was pulled down to her waist, sleeves tied around her, accenting her hourglass figure. "250lbs, bitches." Vásquez said, flipping up her middle fingers to the ladies around her and standing up. There was a chorus of laughter and  congratulations as the record breaker rose almost a full head taller than those around her.

Vásquez, and the surrounding ladies, were part of a gang called Los Lobos. The 6'1, towering pillar of muscle and tattoos was second in command of the gang. The muscle. The enforcer. Maria's red right hand. The one that would go out and lay pain down on their enemies.  And she looked every inch the part. Despite her sharp features being undeniably attractive, Vásquez gave off a menacing aura. It was the eyes. Two pools of molten honey that seemed to burn into you. Like she was weighing your soul before passing it on to the ferryman. Her long, lean, muscled form combined with that cold gaze made her seem like some great feline predator.

Then there were the tattoos. Catholic symbology crawled up her right arm in a sleeve, tear drops on her cheek and, most disturbingly, the rows of skulls on her torso. Jennifer had caught sight of the skulls tattooed along her ribs while they were in the showers. She hadn't had time to count them but she was certain that, if the rumours about the tattoo's meaning were true, Vásquez had killed over 25 people.

Just then those smouldering eyes turned to Jennifer and the two inmates made eye contact across. Jennifer dropped her own ice blue eyes to the floor quickly and heard the distant chuckle it elicited from the other woman. Jennifer kept her gaze down. Down on her own red overalls.  They were both clad in red overalls. Unlike the ocean of orange, they were two specks of red. They were both a part of the same bullshit programme. The same science experiment held in secret within the prison. The one that meant they got more yard time and food at meal times. It had it's perks but she still felt uneasy with whatever it was.

The blonde let her eyes flicker quickly up to see if she was still the target of Vásquez's attention.  She let out a breath of relief to see her talking with the someone else, moving on to another set of weights.

Jennifer took this as her cue to leave before she drew any more attention.  The 5'2 pixie of a woman quickly strode through the yard, out of the sun and into the shade of the corridor. Cell block B was only half of the sprawling prison. It held over 500 women, and was large enough for them as well as a whole host of guards and, Jennifer had recently found out, scientists.  She went to the library, passing by more orange clad inmates.

Once she arrived a quick scan let her home in on who she was looking for. Trish. Another one of the ladies in the programme. Trish was, similarly to Vásquez, a part of one of the gangs in the prison. It wasn't a shock. There were at least 5 gangs in the prison all vying for control. However, unlike Vásquez, Trish was much friendlier than most here, especially towards Jennifer, considering they now shared a sisterhood of being test subjects.

Trish looked up from the text book she was trying to figure out. Her eyebrows rose and she nodded to Jennifer, rushing towards her. "What's up?"

"N-nothing. Just needed to get out of the sun."

Trish cocked an eyebrow with a dubious look, but laughed. "Southern sun a bit too much for you to handle?" She asked, her slight Texan accent making the question even more taunting.

Jennifer just let out a laugh. "Something like that."

"Come on, what's actually bugging you?"

"It's.... Ugh, fine." Jennifer threw up her hands in frustration. Trish was far too good at reading her. She collapsed into the opposite chair. "I just watched Vásquez beat one of her records.... Again."

"So?"

"Well.... She... She keeps doing it." Jennifer said, leaning in and lowering her voice. "She's broken three cell block records in the last week."

"Yeah, the girl's a gym freak." Trish said flatly. The twinkle in her eye said she was interested in where this was going though. The fact that she closed her textbook and looked over her shoulder just compounded that sentiment. Her attention was clearly sparked.

"So.... Do you think, like, these.... These treatments might have something to do with it?" Hissed Jennifer. She was referring to the trial a handful of the inmates were now a part of. For the past three weeks they'd been part of some medical trial. Twice a week, they'd be taken into a deeply hidden away room and injected with.... Something.

Trish's plush lips pressed into a frown as her brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

Again, Jennifer couldn't shake the feeling that Trish had her own thoughts in the matter, but was keeping her cards close to her chest.  "Seriously?" She asked, making a face that said 'I know you're smarter than that'.

It made Trish laugh. "Yeah, okay. It's obvious the trial is some sketchy, military shit."

"Yeah! That bald asshole in charge is clearly military. The way he stands, like a stick is all the way up his ass. Normal people don't have posture like that." Jennifer said gesturing upwards to symbolise the stick.

"Or that 1000 mile stare. That mother fucker has clearly killed people." Trish nodded, again checking over her shoulder for eavsedroppers.

"Right?" Jennifer almost shouted that part. "I mean, not to mention the way he speaks. 'O-Eight-hundrend-hours'? Like, fuck off." Jennifer was now fully  venting. She took a breath and refocused. "So, if this shit is military, then what are they testing?"

Trish thought for a moment. "Could be some bio weapon shit."

"Oh, that would be so fucked up. But, like, people here can't just disappear. We've got families."

"Not like they can visit us though." She gestured around as if they could see the sandy wasteland through the walls.

"Okay, fair, but why wouldn't they test that in the field, y'know? I dunno. I just think it's weird how Vásquez is suddenly crushing records.... And, I mean, so have you." Jennifer said, dancing delicately around what felt like a bombshell.

Trish made a face. "God, I broke one record. A-and it's not like I don't work out."  She shrugged. Trish was well built. Okay, that's an understatement. Trish had the lower body of a world class sprinter or an Olympic weight lifter. She'd clearly poured hours and hours into building muscle, but, even she felt the last few weeks had yielded some weirdly good gym sessions.

She finally took the bait and said what she already knew Jennifer was trying to say.  "Don't spin me some super soldier shit." She scoffed, knowing that Jen had some conspiratal tendencies. "Should I go to the canteen and get us some tinfoil?"

Jennifer's eyes went wide and she quickly shushed her friend. "I mean.... No, but, like, what if.... What if it is?" She asked with fascination sparkling in her eyes.

Trish rolled her eyes, "aight, say it is. Why the fuck would they test it on us? Us, high security criminals."

Jennifer began listing reasons on her fingers. "No one can visit us, like you said. Everyone has long sentences so the experiment lasts as long as they need. If something does go horribly wrong they can sweep shit under the rug with one or two people disappearing with gang violence. They have 24 hour observation on us..."  Jennifer kept listing but Trish had unfocused. She was fixated on  her recent workouts in her head. On how tight her overalls felt around her hips. Was it insane?

She opened her mouth to say something when a guard interrupted them from the library door.  "Oh-three-oh-four. Oh-two-two-nine. You two are wanted in the med bay." His deep voice sliced through the library. Everyone looked up before going back to what they were doing.  The two red clad ladies looked at each other.

"Well, shit. Looks like we're having another brush with our science experiment friends." Trish frowned as she stood from the desk.  Jennifer tried not to let her eyes linger on her friends lower half, but it was impossible. The only person that actually competed with Vásquez in her weight lifting was Trish. Her hips and thighs and ass all just seemed to explode out from her trim waist. The way her red overalls clung to her in all the right places meant Jennifer was hypnotised completely. Each step, each sway of her hips was mind numbingly hot.

Unfortunately, Jennifer didn't get to watch for long. She forced her eyes away just as Trish whirled back around to her. "Oh, and don't think imma forget about the fact you just admitted to stalking me while I work out." She said jabbing a finger playfully into Jennifer's chest. She shot her a playful grin as she stood straight, eyes locked on Jennifer. She turned and strutted away with even more confidence in her step.

Jennifer's face glowed red as she stood from the table and  followed her friend and the guard towards medbay.

In medbay Trish and Jennifer were greeted by the other Guinea pigs. There were six overall.  Trish, Jennifer, Jessica, Selina, Amber and, of course, Vasquez.

Amber was a part of some white supremecy group. She was exactly what you'd expect they'd want in their group. Tall, slender, pale skin, emeral eyes and blonde, almost white hair. She kept that blonde hair in a plait that made her look like a norse shieldmaiden. Or at least that's what she probably intended. She was stood at the back, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed under her modest breasts.

Amber and Vásquez were staring daggers at each other. Their gangs were currently at each other's throats because of a fight a few days ago. At 5'11, Amber cut almost as an intimidating shape as  Vásquez. Despite the difference in muscle mass, Amber was feared for being brutal, almost rabid, when  in a fight.  Jennifer glanced at Vásquez before letting her eyes wander to the other inmates.

They were all a part of different gangs. Trish was a part of the 'Nation'. Vásquez, Los Lobos. Amber was a part of the aryan sisterhood. Selina was a part of K13, and Jessica was a Niner. Only Jennifer was completely unaffiliated.

Again, she began to wonder about the design of this experiment. Were they chosen purposefully? Some weird ploy to maintain the prison balance? Or was this another way to divide and conquer? If Jennifer's theory was right then either mindset would make sense.

"Hello, ladies." A chill ran through her. Smith was here. Mr. Smith. The aforementioned bald, military asshole. "I trust everyone has been well?" He asked rhetorically, beckoning for them to follow him. He had a wiry build beneath the charcoal suit. Everything about him was unnervingly neutral. Jennifer began to move forwards, wanting to get this done quickly. Some of the other ladies needed further prompting from the guards before following him through the med bay and across to a set of double doors.

It seemed the 'beef' between Los lobos and the aryans was causing extra friction, today. Smith scanned his ID and, with a beep, a heavy 'ka-chunk- signalled the doors opening. He pushed one of the doors open and stepped through into the sterile, white tiled corridor on the other side. Even the air seeping out of the doorway had a lingering disinfectant scent. He turned to look to his test subjects, waiting for them to step through.  Jennifer, Trish, Selina and Jessica stepped through. Amber, however, was shoved hard by Vásquez when she tried to step through. Her foot caught on the lip of the door and she fell hard to the tiles.

There was a short laugh from Vásquez which ended in a strangled gasp. One of the guards had driven a baton into her ribs with a deep thud. Vásquez crumbled, clutching at her side as  Amber scrambled on the ground, murderous intentions oozing off of her.  The older man stepped between the ladies, as if appearing from nowhere. His passive, dead stare burrowed into Amber.

"Enough." Was all he said.  Amber stopped for a moment before standing and squaring up to Smith. She was the same height as the older man and while they were eye to eye, Jennifer couldn't shake an odd feeling. The two women were like predators in the wild. Two lionesses getting ready to tear into each other over territory.  But this wasn't the that. Amber's expression was as cold as always but her body language subtly gave it away. She was scared of him. This wasn't two predators staring each other down. It was more like one predator staring into the abyss.

Amber's lips peeled back to bare her teeth. "Fine." She simply said before stepping back. Smith's expression was still neutral.  He turned to Vásquez and extended a hand.

She looked up at the hand and then to the face behind it before slapping it away. "I'm fine, vato," she grumbled as she rose.

"Good." Smith strode through the group and to the front of the line. This time there was no more delays to their passage through the labyrinth of corridors. Jennifer had been trying to mentally map the corridors but after three visits she was still struggling. Through the door. Down the corridor. Fifth door on the right. Second left. Down a stairwell into a cooler area. Through another set of ID controlled doors, then it gets muddy.

The twists and turns, and the multiple keys needed to open specific doors was draining.  But that was Jennifer's profession, really. Breaking in. Memorising paths to get the easiest theft. She would memorise it. Even if she didn't know why she was so determined to. She counted doors and turns silently on her fingers as they went deeper.

Eventually they were brought to a familiar room. A large open room which held what must have been a huge one way mirror on one side. The florescent lights illuminated six beds on the other side of the room, opposite the wide mirror.

The beds themselves wouldn't look out of place in a hospital. Thin mattress, white sheets, guard rails on the sides and flanked by medical equipment. A handful of metrics were measured on the electronic screens. Heart rate, blood pressure and a few others that Jennifer couldn't figure out. What would have been out of place in a hospital were the guards stationed by each bed and the restraints latched onto the rails.

One by one, the women were led to a bed and hooked up to monitors. Jennifer climbed into the bed, resting her back against the propped up end. She had Selina on her right and Vásquez on her left. The guards strapped the restraints on. Vásquez was mumbling something to the guard strapping her in, but he didn't react. It was the same guard that had struck her earlier. She was one to hold a grudge, so Jennifer thought nothing of it.

Once the inmates were all restrained, nurses stepped forward. They were all dressed in green scrubs, masks covering their faces. Jennifer recognised that it was her nurse though. Always the same woman with her hair tied into a bun. A drip was hooked up to each inmate.

Jennifer squirmed slightly. She hated needles. Whenever she had to have any interaction with a needle she'd pinch her leg and stare off into the distance until it was done. But having had this happen so many times already meant her trust in the nurse administering the needle had built. She hardly felt the needle when they sunk it into her arm. She still stared directly at the ceiling to avoid looking at it though.

Then she shifted her gaze to the almost luminous purple IV bag that was going to be emptied into her. They had one bag each. Looking out across at the other women, Jennifer took stock of what was going on. Trish was looking around, trying to find any details that explained what was happening here, but the other inmates just looked disinterested. Selina looked as if she might doze off already.

Jennifer tried to pry. To see figures on notepads or eavesdrop on the nurses as they passed. Hell, even just reactions to whatever their findings were. Anything.

After a futile few minutes the purple bags began to run dry. Just when the art theif thought things were winding down, one of the monitors started beeping. Blaring. Everyone turned to look at Vásquez. The inmates pulled on their restraints, trying to look at her across the room.

Her skin was covered in perspiration, shining like copper in the white light. Her teeth were bared and she was shaking in the bed. A low, long groan of pain slowly melted into a full on scream and the shivering shakes evolved into full on convulsions.

Nurses rushed over, trying to hold Vásquez down as she thrashed. The guards had to step in to help pin her down. Jennifer craned side to side to see past them until a bellow rang out.

"Out of the way." The command was sharp.    Everyone froze and looked to Smith. "Our stakeholders will want to see what happens." He thrust a thumb over his shoulder at something Jennifer hadn't given any notice to. A camera, red light blinking as it whirred over to look at Vásquez. This wasn't one of the run down, low tech cameras in the rest of the prison. This one looked much more advanced.

Smith's facial expression was stone like. He observed the inmate, uncaring of her fate. Jennifer felt her stomach drop. Had she been wrong? Would they die one by one? Was this some twisted test of a bio weapon? Now Jennifer watched Vásquez with a creeping dread. Was she about to watch the towering inmate die?

Her screaming and thrashing seemed to grow more frantic. Flecks of spit twinkled in the light as venomous curses spewed out of her. Her eyes bulged and cords of muscle in her neck bundled and stretched as she writhed in pain.

Her arms flexed as she struggled against the restraints. Jennifer blinked a few times. There was something weird going on. Through all the madness she couldn't help but stare at her arms. Jesus, she was pumped. Each flex of her arm as she yanked on the restraint just seemed to bloat it bigger. Veins throbbed to the surface.

Jennifer's breath caught as her brain clicked and she understood what she was seeing. Her eyes widened and she tried to rationalise it away with logic. But, it wasn't just her arms. It was incredibly hard to notice but it wasn't her arms alone getting pumped bigger. Her shoulders seemed to widen. Her chest puffed bigger with each irratic, ragged breath. Her white, ribbed vest was being pulled tighter and tighter. Vasquez's boots were digging into the white mattress, knees bent, and Jennifer could actually see those knees rising as the red overalls were being stretched around the gradually thickening limbs inside of them.

This was some insane trick of the light or a delusional mirage from the heat and drugs in her system, right?

Wrong. It wasn't. The longer she watched, the more the dread ebbed away and a deep, fear was growing inside of her.  Vásquez gripped the rails on the edges of the bed now, controlling her failing and struggling through the pain. It was more apparent like this. Jennifer was watching the biggest bitch in cell block B... Getting bigger.

Chapter 2: G37 Trial - Week 3 part 2 by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Quick trigger warning! There is some racism in this chapter. I hope it doesn't offend anyone!  Raceplay isn't going to be a main topic in the story but might be brought up once or twice in later chapters.

Also, the growth is going to start for real in the next chapter!

Vasquez's forearms almost seemed to ripple as she gripped the guard rails. "F-fuuuck." She groaned, weathering the storm inside of her. No, not only weathering. Now that she had braced herself instead of thrashing around, she could see her body throbbing slowly bigger. Taller. Thicker. Stronger. She ground her teeth panting, heaving breaths making her sound like a monster. Her eyes darted up and down her body, brain struggling to process what she was seeing as pain wracked her body. Her knuckles were white, fingers gradually creeping along the metallic rail more and more. Sweat dripped from her chin. Every second felt like a minute until - suddenly - it stopped.

Abruptly, like a puppet that had it's strings cut, an exhausted Vásquez dropped to the bed. Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly but now the machine beeped drowned her out. The inmate dragged ragged lungfuls of air in and out of her body as she sunk into the mattress. The beeping slowed and Vásquez eased her way up, looking down at her hands in the now too tight restraints. The pain she'd suffered had melted into a euphoric daze, her brain swimming in hormones. Gradually, she was coming back to reality. She blinked a few times, as if clearing the haze. Pulling on the tight restraints she listened to the leather cuffs creak audibly. "Wh-what the fuck." She said, confusion seeping out of her voice. She gave a harder yank and felt the bed shake, restraints whining. A sinister grin gradually stretched across her face. "Whoa." She exhaled.

Every one in the room was either strapped to a bed or rooted to the spot. "Vitals. Now." Smith commanded, a slight smile turning his thin lips upwards. "Then get some measurements."

Nurses and guards rushed back over, now bustling busily. The nurses jotted down notes and took the restraints off while the guards loomed there, ready to pin down the even larger latina if she became aggressive.

She didn't do anything malicious. In fact, she seemed more amazed by every tiny detail rather than angry. Vásquez swung her legs off of the bed, feet hitting the floor sooner and harder than expected. Everything felt off. She leaned forwards, shifting her weight to her feet and wobbling a little. Casting her gaze down, she furrowed her brow and blinked, staring at her feet. A particularly diminutive nurse approached her to give a helping hand. "Are you unsteady? Vertigo is one of the expected side effects." The nurse said, placing a hand on Vásquez's forearm. Jennifer couldn't shake the thought that she was about the same size as that nurse... She looked miniscule next to her with the inmate standing head and shoulders taller than her.

The question ignored entirely. "You are fucking tiny." Vásquez said instead, grin returning. "Tinier than before, anyway." The nurse shrank away as the guards stepped forwards. "Chill, chill." She held up her hands, palms out. Jennifer noticed the red marks on her wrists where the restraints had dug into her. "I was looking at my shoes. I ain't got vertigo." Vásquez elaborated.

Everyone looked down to see her toes very  obviously bunched up at the end of her boots. She sat back onto the mattress and roughly pried the shoes off. Once done, there was a sigh of relief. Vásquez leaned back, flexing her toes in the white, standard issue socks.

Smith cleared his throat and the nurses ushered Vásquez to come over to an elaborate looking set of equipment.

As the latina passed Jennifer's bed she looked down at her, shooting a wink. The art thief's stomach plummeted. She felt sick. Vásquez looked fucking huge. No,  she'd always been huge. She looked massive now. More imposing. Why, of all people, had the trial worked on her and no one else?

The first thing they asked was for Vásquez to step onto a very high tech scale. "We need accurate readings. Underwear only." Smith ordered.

This, for some reason, seemed to snap Amber awake. "What the fuck is going on here?" She asked, livid. Smith's head twisted as he locked his gaze to her. It was as if he'd forgotten the others had existed for a moment.

"Release them, but keep them under observation." He said to one of the guards. While most were preoccupied with guarding and observing the large latina, two guards undid the restraints on each inmate one at a time.

"No, fuck that. Tell me what the fuck you're testing!" Bellowed Amber, pulling on her restraints and kicking at the guards.

Jennifer, on the other hand, tried to tune out her struggle and watch Vásquez. She watched her untie the red overalls and shimmy them down her wider hips and thicker legs. She almost had to peel them off those oak like pillars. Lines and curves of muscle shifted as Vásquez bent forward to finally yank the overalls off. She reached up to the hem of her vest and began pulling it up.

Once again, Jennifer caught a glimpse of the skulls along her ribs. This time, however, she was too mesmerised by the knots of muscle dancing in her back to focus on the macabre symbols.

Vásquez unceremoniously dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor, and, in just her underwear, she stepped onto the scale. The scale took a moment to update. A taser crackled and the threat of it finally made  Amber shut up. Jennifer craned her neck, trying to see the numbers. They'd all had their measurements and vitals recorded three weeks ago. She struggled to remember if she'd seen Vásquez's measurements when the nurses began to chatter.

"237lbs and 6'4." A nurse said.

"She grew three inches?!"

"Her weight has increased faster than expected too."

"It must be the added muscle mass."

"Do you think she has a genetic disposition to the serum?"

Vásquez's smirk grew as she listened to the nurses batting ideas back and forth. Jennifer flinched as a guard began to unbuckled the leather restraint. She'd had tunnel vision to the point where she hadn't seen him approach.

More words and medical terms were bounced around as Jennifer struggled to understand. But now the guard was talking to her. "Up. Now, inmate." She didn't argue.

The five remaining ladies were led out of the room, leaving the nurses to continue their examination. Jennifer did her best to glean any information she could but it was difficult.

A few minutes later the five inmates were randomly dispersed over the seats of a smaller waiting room. The guards stood by the door, silently. Jennifer and Trish made eye contact across the room. Although she was rattled, Trish seemed mostly held together. On the other hand, Jennifer was in a cold sweat. What were they a part of? What had happened to Vásquez? Would that happen to all of them? The questions swirled into a maelstrom in her mind as she leaned against the cheap plastic chair. On one hand she wouldn't mind being bigger but on the other... Vásquez had been losing her mind from the pain.

The tension in the room was palpable, similar thoughts running through each of their minds. Amber was hunched forwards, tapping her foot on the floor in a nervous tick. Eventually she exhaled hard, throwing her hands up. "No one is gonna say it? Fine. What the fuck was that?" Jennifer looked to the guards but they didn't move to stop the conversation from starting.

"No one fucking knows." Jessica growled. As a Niner, she was a member of a smaller gang. They were bikers. Drug runners and arms dealers. It seemed like they had a decent alliance with both the aryans and the nation, which meant they were relatively safe despite their small size. Jessica had a milky complexion and raven hair. Of all the ladies, she was the curviest, and on the stockier side.

"They might fucking know!" Amber barked back, gesturing to the two guards.

"I don't think that they do." Selina spoke softly. She was always quiet and reserved. That would be comforting from most people but Jennifer found it oddly unnerving. Quiet, soft spoken people don't usually run with cartels. Yet, that's exactly what Selina had been doing. Besides that, Jennifer didn't know much more about the 5'5 anomaly. "Did you see their faces when it happened?" She asked, accented words cutting through all the rage in the room. She pointed to one guard, "this one looked like he pissed himself."

"Fuck off." Grunted the guard from beneath his baseball cap. This one was called Jackson or something. The one who'd hit Vásquez on the way here.

She pointed to the other guard, "and this one kept looking to Smith, like he was a lost puppy." The second guard didn't say anything, instead just rolling his eyes. Jennifer couldn't remember his name.

"I-it's an experiment." Said a meek voice.  Jennifer was surprised to realise it was her own. Selina, although soft spoken, sounded confident. Jennifer sounded like a scared mouse. She shrivelled in her seat as she became the main point of focus in the room.

"What?" Amber practically spat the word. Trish was subtly waving her hand at her neck, signalling to cut the chatter to Jennifer. It was too late though. "What did you just say?" Amber said, standing.

Jackson stepped forwards and Amber eased back into her seat, shooting daggers with her eyes.

"It's a medical trial. A-and it seems like it might have something to do with the military or something." Jennifer continued. Trish looked pissed.

"You think the fuckin' government has got something to do with this? We've got fuckin' rights! They can't fuckin' do this." Amber went into a rant.

Jessica scoffed, "yeah, right. Like we got fucking rights in here."

Amber span around, intentind to reply but, she didn't have a retort to that. "Fuck." She simply said. There was an itch under her skin though. Something in the back of her mind that was eating away at her. "What the fuck happened to Vásquez?"

"She.... Got bigger." Selina answered, shrugging.

"I fucking know that." Amber retorted. "But why her?"

"What's wrong? Worried your perfect genetics aren't so perfect?" Trish spoke for the first time, taunting Amber and her backwards ideology. She'd jutted her chin out and squared her shoulders. The tension in the room got hevaier. An almost static electricity was building up and threatening to spark. Amber whirled around and opened her mouth.

"Fuck you, n-" She didn't get to finish her slur. Trish's powerful legs had bunched up beneath her like a spring ready to explode. She launched herself across the room in a heartbeat. The first punch was dodged, but the second crunched home, flattening Amber's slender nose.

The guards lurched alive as blood  sprayed down Amber's face and stained her already red clothes darker.

"You fucking bitch!" She roared, green eyes practically bursting from her skull. The two men wrestled the ladies apart while they punched and scratched at each other.

Selina was laughing to herself while Jessica tried to help restraining Amber. The niners always were a bridge between their respective gangs. Jennifer was glued to the chair. She'd been friends with Trish for only the three weeks they'd been a part of the trial. She'd never seen her fight. Trish always seemed friendly and jovial. Now her face was contorted in anger. She hoped that anger would never be directed at her.

Due to the fighting, the inmates were separated, confined to different rooms and left under observation.

Jennifer didn't know where the other ladies were being held, but this room looked a lot like the solitary confinement cells in a regular part of the penitentiary.

It was basically a concrete box with a steel door. Jennifer sat against the wall, alone with her thoughts. The dead bolt shifting prompted her upright. When the door finally opened for Jennifer it was Mr. Smith standing in the doorway. "Jennifer Kimper, how are you feeling?" He asked, strolling into the room.

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise then. "F-fine, I guess."

"Good! Good." He was smiling but it felt alien on his face. "No odd side effects or anything?"

"Well, I didn't sprout 3 extra inches if that's what you mean."

Smith laughed. Maybe he faked one to make Jennifer feel more at ease. It had the opposite effect. "No, no. Nothing like that. Although, I must commend you for your eye for details." Shit. She wasn't supposed to have heard that. Jennifer felt her skin crawl and a fist close around her stomach. Great, she'd caught his attention for knowing too much. "Appetite changes, mood swings, headaches. More mundane things." He elaborated.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I know some of the others have been eating more." She cast her mind back to watching Trish and Vásquez absolutely devouring food in the extra canteen time they were given. "Yeah, nothing like that for me." She admitted.

"That's fine. We're actually looking into tailoring your diet to compliment the study more after the break through we've made today."

There was a long pause. "Are you ever going to tell us the goal of the study?" She asked. His grey eyes locked to hers and Jennifer immediately wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

She was shocked when his smile returned and he answered. "Actually, yes, yes we will. When the time is right." Now that was surprisingly comforting. Or bullshit. It could be either, this man's poker face was etched in stone. "Well, if you do start experiencing any side effects, please do let us know. For now, you're free to go. Jackson will take you back to the group before you head to your cells.

Jackson, as if he were waiting on the other side of the door to hear his name, strode into the room straight away. He was 6'5 and lanky. A baseball cap was pulled down over his head almost constantly but Jennifer could see his hair was dark at the back. He said nothing as they walked back to medbay, where the rest of the ladies were waiting.

When they arrived, the room was somehow just as tense as the waiting room earlier. Selina and Vásquez were talking on one side of the room, sat on an examination bed.

Trish, Jessica and Amber were dotted around the room. Jessica staying tactically placed between them. Amber's pale skin had already started to turn a dark purple around her eyes. A white plaster was horizontally stuck across her nose.

"And then she broke her nose?" Vásquez bellowed before cackling. "Good shit, Trish." She punctuated that statement by up ending a protein shake to her lips and draining the last of it. Well, looks like protein shakes are a part of the diet Smith was talking about.

Amber was seething, arms crossed and expression dark. Yet, Jennifer was more interested in Vásquez right now. It was horrifying. Some cruel twist of fate giving the power house more power. Three inches might not sound like much but it was very noticeable. In fact, it just made reality seem warped around her. Jennifer's brain was struggling to keep up and comprehend the size change. But she needed to know more.  Steeling her nerve, she walked over to Vásquez.

Trish's eyebrows rose as she watched the pixie like blonde walk into the metaphorical jaws of a predator. Vásquez and Selina stopped talking. "Yes?" Vásquez asked.

"D-did it hurt? Like.... A lot?"

Vásquez pouted, as if the question was moronic. Then turned to Selina. "Hey, Sel, have you ever seen this bitch talk before?"

"I have. She seems sharp." Selina shrugged. "You ever watch her when we're here? Always watching." She said, using her fingers to open her eyes wider. Considering Selina's almost lackadaisical attitude to most things, Jennifer was not expecting that response.

"Yeah. I've seen her watching." Vásquez said, a smirk forming on her lips as she side eyed the tiny woman. "It hurt. A lot." She finally said. The copper skinned woman  pushed her weight up off of the examination bed, making the frame squeal in relief. It only took one mighty step forwards for her to close the gap to Jennifer. At 6'4, she was now over a full foot taller than the pale woman.

Jennifer had only been this close to her once before.

It had been her first week in the penitentiary. Vásquez wanted to use the phone while Jennifer was talking to her lawyer. She'd pushed her against the wall and driven a fist into her back around the kidneys. When Jennifer had turned around she was eye level with the monster's chin. Her mind flashed back to that moment. Now her eyes were around her collarbone, melon sized breasts hovered right below her chin. Three extra inches shouldn't have made Jennifer feel this small but it did. The towering latina was like a mountain eclipsing the light behind her. Vásquez leaned in, bending at the hip to bring her eye level down. Even like this Jennifer has to crane her neck back. "I like the result though, don't you?" Vásquez sneered, face only inches from Jennifer.

"I think that she likes you!" Selina chimed happily from over the titan's shoulder to Jennifer. It was an insane notion. She was just humiliating her,  right?  Then again,  if she'd approached her like this three weeks ago, before the trial had started, she might have been swallowing her own teeth.  Maybe this trial had created a bond between the six women....  Maybe.

When Jennifer didn't answer, Vásquez straightened up. She curled her arm, flexing a monstrous bicep. "Come on, you don't think it's a good look?" Mentally, Jennifer couldn't help comparing that slab of meat to her own. Not only did it make her arm look like an emancipated twig, it might even make her calf look skinny.

"I-I guess so." Jennifer replied after audibly swallowing a mouthful of saliva. Vásquez planted her hands on her hips and thrust her chest out pridefully. She must have been given new clothes by the team running the experiment, but, from the fact that her nipples were quite clearly tenting the fabric of her vest, they hadn't had a bra her size.

Were they bigger? Like, proportionally? It was difficult not to state, but the thoughts plagues Jennifer.

"Fuck off now, blondie." Vásquez said, not going back to her seat until  The blonde had backed away. She made a beeline straight to Trish.

Who was silently judging her. She shook her head side to side, "girl, you are crazy."

"Least I didn't break a psycho's nose." She hissed back.

"A racist psycho. She had it coming." Trish shrugged. "So what was your brave, little interview about?"

"Just.... Preparing for the next few weeks." Jennifer said, a twinge of excitement running through her. "I have a feeling there's going to be some big changes."

Chapter 3: G37 Trial - Week 4 by Kokoji

The days after the last set of tests passed slowly. Jennifer purposefully stayed away from the yard, knowing that Vásquez's growth would mean she the entire cell block would be in chaos. She was right too.

As soon as she returned to her cell from the trial, rumours were swirling around the prison. Rumours about how the first thing Vásquez did after getting back to the regular prison was go and start a brawl with Hilda. Hilda was a 6'10 member of the Aryans. The largest, heaviest woman in the entire prison. Apparently, the extra three inches had left Vásquez feeling more confident in a fight with her (not that she would have backed down before). The fight hadn't had a satisfying conclusion, but both women had been bloodied and bruised. Hilda was sent to solitary confinement and Vásquez.... Had suffered zero reprocussions. Smith was pulling strings apparently.

So the unaffiliated woman became a recluse. She was praying every second of everyday that she'd grow next. She waited for the next course of G37 like a child waiting for Christmas. It was another chance that maybe she would grow.

Her entire time in prison had been going from one bad situation to another. Anxiety every night and stress every morning. Even her cell mate had been a bitch initially.

Becoming friends with Trish had been a huge weight off of her shoulders. She had a handful of friends in the prison before but none that were connected like Trish. Just knowing Trish meant the entire 'Nation' would turn a blind eye to her, at least.

So, yeah, she wanted to grow. Even a few inches and some extra muscle would mean she's less of a target. Thinking back now, from the beginning, maybe she'd wanted it to be a super soldier serum. Subconsciously, she wanted something, anything, to help her survive here.

Now that she knew what that G37 shit could do, she craved it. She stuck to the diet the scientists had given her. She forced down calories and protein and fat. Even when she was bloated and painfully full, she'd cram more food into her body. She started working out in her cell. She'd wait until everyone was asleep to do push ups and squats and sit ups. She was determined to coax her body into having some reaction to the serum.

In the showers Jennifer would inspect herself, hoping that she'd find some change. This morning it happened. She noticed something. The first change. It was her shoulders looking beefier. Not rounded boulders or anything, but more mass, for sure. Since the last course of G37 it had only been a few days, so the idea that she could show any results was astounding. The serum was definetly doing it's job in her system, even if she hadn't gotten any bigger anywhere else.

Jennifer felt pleasantly buzzed from her findings and was walking on clouds all morning. Today was Wednesday. Today was the day. This could be the day that she grew.

When she was summoned to medbay, she had to suppress the urge to run there. She had done a good job of avoiding everyone the last few days, so when Trish saw her approach, there was a double take. "You been working out?" She asked, flashing a grin. The pale woman flushed, and stuttered out an affirmative, embarrassed reply. "Shit, I guess last week was a wake up call, huh?" Trish giggled. "You're joining the swole squad." She winked and broke into a crab pose which was actually a tad intimidating.

Jennifer stepped back and looked Trish up and down. "I'm not the only one working out." Trish popped her hip to one side, sassily planting a hand on the cocked hip. The red uniform looked tighter across her shoulders, but it was, as usual, her lower body stealing the show. She looked poured into the clothes. Each thigh was like a redwood, flooding the leg of the overall and straining the seams. If Trish had broken into a squat, they may have just exploded open.

She'd always been thick but this was a whole new level of juicy. "What can I say? A growing woman needs her protein shakes."

Jennifer was still lost, taking in the shocking changes. "Trish... I... One of your thighs is like my waist." Trish was beaming with pride.

"Okay, fine. Protein shakes, working out and experimental drugs from the government." She laughed.

But the laugh died in her throat as she looked over Jennifer's shoulder. The blonde followed her gaze and felt her own stomach plummet.

Vásquez had just come into the room. She had to bend her head slightly to fit through the door. She'd grown even more....

Besides the rumours of her fight last week, there was a storm of whispers about Vásquez. How she was shattering cell block records. How she was throwing her weight around. How she was being an even bigger bitch. Her size and her ego were both still growing.

The worst of it. Smith, Maria, the warden, they were all facilitating it. More food. More yard time. Better equipment. Protein powder. God knows what else. It was disturbing. They were literally pumping resources into Vásquez, fueling her into an even bigger, leviathan of a woman. And she loved every moment of it.

The room was silent after her entrance. "What?" She asked. "Never seen this much woman in one place?" The question was rhetorical, but the answer for Jennifer wasn't so cut and dry as that. She must have grown another 3 inches and packed on even more muscle. The clothes they'd given her last week were skin tight, fit to burst if she moved too violently.

Vásquez had always been pretty lean and muscular, but, as with Trish, she'd been making leaps and bounds while working out. Her shoulders were more capped now, a fat vein snaked out from under her vest, along her shoulder and down the belly of her bicep. Her chest and back had both thickened and now her legs were even girthier. Proportionally, Trish had bigger legs but in terms of raw size.... Vásquez most definetly held the crown. Jennifer was torn. On one hand this was terrifying. On the other, fuck, Vásquez looked sculpted by an artist.

She wanted to just run her hands all over her. Jennifer had always had a thing for fit women and right now Vásquez was every fantasy she had dialled up to 11. If she wasn't a murderous psycho then Jennifer would have been smitten. Oh, fuck it, she kind of was smitten. However, animalistic fear still won out in the ranking of emotions.

Vásquez didn't follow up on her question. Instead her attention shifted to Jackson. He looked pale. The colour had drained from his face completely and even the cap pulled low couldn't hide it.

The titan strolled over, her shoes thudding against the tiles beneath her. She stopped directly in front of Jackson. "Aw, you don't look so big anymore, Jackie." She said, leaning down a smidge to see under the curve of his baseball cap. This time last week he had a full four inches of height on her. Now, with her standing in front of him like this, Jennifer couldn't even see him. She blotted him out like a cloud would the moon. Electricity crawled through her nerves as her face grew warmer. She cursed herself for finding this hot, but she did.

She couldn't help but imagine being Jackson right now, basically pinned against the wall by the giant. Shit, would her face be boob height? How fast was Vásquez growing? When would it stop? Could she be looking up at her tits by this time next week. Again, dread and excitement was a potent cocktail for Jennifer.

"Step back, inmate." Jackson finally said, raising his head slightly and standing as tall as possible. It really didn't help.

She didn't listen. "Come on, why don't you try hitting me in the side like last week?" The other guards bristled, ready to step in as she lifted her arm and offered a free shot. "I'm sure your little friends will pull me off of you before I do too much damage."

'Little!?' Jennifer thought to herself. Every guard here was over 6 foot, and yet that statement was true from Vásquez's new point of view.

"We'll be having none of that." Smith arrived, his voice as expressionless as always. "Being a part of our trial is a privilege. One that can be taken away, Vásquez."

She stepped back, "don't worry, Mr. Smith. Me and Jackson are friends. Friends get rough sometimes." Her eyes glowed almost golden as she stared into Jackson. He was sweating now.

Smith didn't repremand her anymore than what he said. Considering she was the star guinea pig, Jennifer had her doubts about how quickly Smith would remove her from the trial. The fact that Hilda was in solitary confinement and Vásquez wasn't, was a testament to her value now.

They disembarked from the med bay and, after Jennifer attempted to memorise more of the journey, they arrived in the same room as last week. The procedure was altered now though. Now, every lady had their height and weight recorded prior to being taken to one of the beds. Jennifer was a tad surprised when she was measured. 5'2 and 124lbs. This was the heaviest she'd ever been by at least 10lbs. Since coming to the penitentiary she struggled to tread water above 100lbs. A giddiness washed over her as she realised she was bigger. Maybe not in height, but hey, it was something.

She tried to steal glances at everyone else's height and weight. Trish was 5'5. Selina was 136lbs. Vásquez was 6'6. That meant with her boots she was probably over 6'7. No wonder Jackson looked so comparitively small. Beyond that she hadn't been able to glean much more information.

The ladies were all strapped into their beds and the nurses hooked them up to the G37 bags. For once, Jennifer didn't look away. She was too excited to be scared of the needle. This time she actually watched it being set up. Eagerly, she looked up at her bag, waiting.

Time dragged from that point and, eventually, Jennifer's attention began to wander. Unlike the previous visit,  the inmates seemed more engaged. Trish had her eyes on the bag, calmly waiting for it to empty. Jessica was sweating, nerves showing in her body language. Amber periodically leaned forwards and checked on the other inmates. Her broken nose and the skin around her eyes had really darkened to a painful looking blackish-blueish-purple. Selina was, unsurprisingly, asleep.

A grunt from her left made Jennifer jump. She turned to see Vásquez with a manic look on her face. Her hands were wrapped tightly around the metallic guard rails. This time she'd braced herself early.

"O-oh f-f-fuck." Vásquez shuddered, reigning in her body's knee jerk reaction to spasm as the serum moved through her veins and diffused into her cells. Despite the strained tone and the sweat already beading on her brow, there was a wide smile on her face.

The growth hadn't even begun yet and already Vásquez's heels were just about at the edge of the bed.

She arched her back with a groan, making the whole bed rattle. She pushed against the propped up end hard, hips moving towards the ceiling. The part of the bed that had been angled to keep her upright let out a noise like a rusty gate being forced open. Then the metal holding it propped up gave way and Vásquez crashed backwards into a fully prone position. It was starting.  

Last time she'd started growing, Jennifer had been too shocked to take it all in. This time she drank it in every detail.  

"Y-y-yessssss." Vásquez hissed through grit teeth, her contorted body vibrating as the growth quaked through her. Her bones creaked and clicked and cracked as they shifted and elongated, realigning as they did. Muscles ripped and re-knit like strands of woven steel, gradually expanding and pushing outwards. Even her tits were swelling inside of her vest, flesh gradually spilling over the cups. Her teeth subtly ground against one another as everything shifted. In random bursts, Jennifer could actually see Vásquez pushing outwards. Her head inching up the bed, her hands swallowing more guard rial, her legs bending more and more until -  

There was a sharp sound. A series of staccato pops. Jennifer's greens eyes locked onto the source. It was the overalls. The red fabric along her legs and hips were exploding at the seams, a tsunami of smooth, caramel skin flooding in through the breech. Vásquez's heels lost their perch on the edge of the mattress and she slid down to hang off of the end. God, she was outgrowing the whole fucking bed. Her body was slowly but surely marching outwards in all directions. Invading the space around her and taking it up. Her hips were widening to fill the width of the bed, encroaching close and closer to the guard rails. This spurt seemed longer than the last, almost as if Vásquez was willing it so. With mixed feelings, Jennifer questioned if this spurt would ever end.

The latina pulled on the restraints biceps balling into huge swells. The fat vein across it's surface throbbed, pumping strength and, undoubtly, G37 through the muscle fibers. Vásquez let out a grunt and the leather restraints began to let out a higher pitched squeal. Her lips curled back and with a final grunt one of the restraints ripped open, her arm rocketing free.

Finally, the growth sputtered to a halt and Vásquez relaxed. Her ragged breaths turned into an inward, rumbling, ominous laugh. Chemical bliss had already  rushed to fill the void of pain and she draped herself over the now far too small bed.

A short, pained yelp rang out behind Jennifer. She ripped her eyes away to see who it had come from.  Looking passed Selina to Trish, she realised who had made the sound.

Her usually warm, deep umber face looked ashen and chalky. She blinked rapidly before she squeezed her eyes shut completely.

Trish moved side to side, thinly braided hair whipping about as she did. She tried to push through the searing in her body. She tried to hold it in but eventually let out a gasp that turned into a groan, which developed into a full on scream. She drew her knees closer to her chest and then kicked her legs out, squirming and flailing, trying to somehow dull the pain.

Then she went rigid and her eyes fluttered open. Through the pain, she could actually feel the growth. The sensation was almost indescribable. The shifting of fabric against her skin as she throbbed larger. Muscles engorged, thickened and stretched.

In a repeat of what Jennifer had just witnessed, she studied the red overalls being overwhelmed by the body they tried to contain. Trish was like the wind filling a sail. Then over filling it. It was mesmerising. Her entire body was stuck in an endless inhale. Her legs and ass were winning the war against her clothes, seams popping like dominoes falling. Bursts of them went at a time. Up top, her upper body waged a battle against the red uniform too. The sleeves pulled taunt until they too threatened to shred. Her shoulders yanked at the fabric and her rapid breathing made stitches screech. A tear began to open where her sleeve met the chest of the overall and Jennifer could see pectoral and shoulder.

Below, Trish's plimsolls were hitting critical mass. The fabric of the shoe popped and split around the edge as her feet grew wider and longer. Her sock clad toes flexed and first slowly, then rapidly, they emerged through the plimsolls.

Then it stopped. Trish collapsed to the bed panting. Jennifer let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Trish laid in the bed, like an engine that had overheated. Jennifer was expecting whisps of steam to rise off of her.

Silence settled in the room as anxiously, the staff and the remaining inmates waited quietly to see if there would be more growth.

Jennifer was disappointed to find that she wouldn't be growing. Selina seemed un-bothered and Jessica actually appeared a tad relieved. Amber, in the corner, was a soundless, smouldering ball of rage. Her gaze was firmly glued to Trish, fury bubbling out of her. Trish was oblivious, instead slowly marvelling at her newly improved form. She'd never been particularly busty so she wasn't surprised to find her modest breasts had maintained their modesty. However, that just meant the slabs of pectoral beneath them showed a little more. Down below was a different story. Her wide hips had gotten wider. Legs more trunk like. Every muscle had been revved up bigger and stronger. The lines of tone between them had deepened too. Taller people just don't have the same thickness as someone shorter, yet, even with the extra inches, Trish stayed certifiably thick.

"Restraints." Smith simply said. "Those two first." The nurses obeyed, recording information as they stepped forward.

"I got it." Vásquez laughed, using her free hand to release her other. The bed beneath her struggled as she shifted and moved.

Once free, Trish swung her legs off of the bed. She took a moment to get used to just how much her knees bent. Kicking off the ruined husks of her plimsoll, she gave a short giggle at her feet taking up so much more of the tiles beneath them.


Vásquez, on the other hand, was much more accustomed to the change. She looked ecstatic. Almost giddy, even. She stood head and shoulders above the nurses, looking down at them and drinking in the size difference. Without warning she put her hands on one's waist and hoisted her into the air. It was the same tiny nurse from last time. "Tinier and tinier." She muttered to herself.

Jackson rushed in and whacked Vásquez with his baton. She gave a roar of pain but didn't crumple like last time. She dropped the nurse from 7 feet up and whirled to smash a fist that was like a brick into his face.

But she stopped and Jackson stumbled backwards, pressing himself to the wall behind. She let out an exhale, fire leaving her. "See? We play rough here." She smiled over at Smith. But there was an edge to her voice.

She waded through the nurses toward the scales when beckoned by the bald man. Trish did the same and for the first time the two larger women stood next to each other. The size disparity was still large.

"You grew too?" Vásquez asked.

"Yep." Trish stayed tight lipped. Vásquez was unpredictable and Trish wasn't as insane as Jennifer. She didn't want to have a conversation with the giant.

"Huh, I couldn't tell." Vásquez grinned. "Still look short to me!" She scoffed, and purposefully ruffled Trish's hair like she was a younger sister. Trish did not look happy, but bit back the urge to punch Vásquez in the ribs where she'd just been struck.

The towering woman didn't peel her overalls off this time. Instead she gripped two handfuls of red and pulled. Her arms and back and everything flexed for a moment before the tearing started. The remains of her ruined uniform was shredded off, revealing more of her improved, lower half.

To juxtapose against that display of power, she pulled her vest off normally. Then rolled her eyes at the bra that was digging into her flesh. The show started anew. She took a deep breath in. Deeper. Deeper. Her larger lungs just kept expanding as she swelled similar a set of bellows. The bra creaked like the leather restraints earlier, the metallic hooks taking far more pressure than they'd been designed to. The brasserie was put of out it's misery when Vásquez tensed her lats and chest. There was a snap and then Vásquez shrugged the poor bra off of her shoulders. "Accuracy, right?" She said to Smith, clearly enjoying bursting out of her clothes.

"More like showing off." Trish gave a retort as she took her clothes off in a more regular fashion.

Vásquez ignored her and stepped onto the scale. 6'10. Four extra inches for the monster. And a whole lot of extra muscle and fat and weight. They'd have to get a new scale soon. Even from her examination bed, Jennifer could see Vásquez's toes curling around the edge of the square metal base.  That foot was probably as long as her forearm.

Vásquez stepped off the scale and turned to face the beds, allowing Trish to step on. Jennifer couldn't stop staring. Her mouth was suddenly drier than the desert outside. She'd been hot before but the changes to her form as she grew were just pushing her into something beyond hot. Smoking. Searing. The fucking sun, maybe.

Before she'd been slightly top heavy, broad shoulders making her look like a swimmer. Now, her hips and legs had really widened, exaggerating her prexisting hourglass shape. Her long, lean limbs had all thickened in a way that just didn't seem possible for someone of her height. She hadn't simply been stretched taller. It was like she'd been scaled up completely.

And it just made her even more irresistible to Jennifer. Jennifer started at her feet and scanned slowly upwards, etching every detail into her brain. The love heart shaped calves, the swells of her quads and hamstrings. The panties that had been transformed into a thong and the hips that were surely be wider than Jennifer's shoulders. Fist shaped bundles of steel punched outward from her abdomen and finally the perky swells of tit that sat high on squares of pectoral. She couldn't look away. Not even when she inched her eyes higher and found herself looking Vásquez in the eyes.

She'd likened Vásquez to the sun earlier. Now it felt like she was looking directly at the sun, unable to look away. It burned.  The only thing that mercifully broke the trance was a nurse tugging her restraint. A cold sweat had broken out on her skin. Stomach churning, Jennifer kept her eyes on the floor as she hopped off the bed and she and the other three inmates were taken to the waiting room. She'd been caught red handed ogling a monster. She may have well stared a gorgon in the eye. Being beaten to death would probably suck more than turning to stone, right?

In the waiting room Jennifer couldn't pay attention to the conversation between the ladies. Amber was quieter this time but still a bundle of anger.

When the waiting room door opened Jennifer felt her insides twist. She looked up fearfully to see Trish had returned first. She was wearing a tight white t-shirt and had a new set of red overalls pulled down to her waist.

She looked amazing too. Earlier she'd looked ashen but now she was glowing. Her dark skin had regained it's normal, warmth. She'd tied the thin braided locks into a pony tail, and a wide smile stretched across her face. She went straight to Jennifer. "Holy fuck! You look amazing." Jennifer gushed.

"I know!" Humility was rightfully gone for now. "I have abs! Like, I had abs before but now they're chisled." She giggled. Trish pulled the white top up and showed off exactly what she'd said. Snatching up Jennifer's hand, she pressed her palm to the  six pack in front of her. Trish was an easy gainer and had a bottomless appetite. While she'd never worried about have a perfect six pack before, she still found it mind blowing to have one now.

Jennifer was initially taken aback by being forced to feel the abs but then her eyebrows rose and a rose tint appeared on her cheeks. "They're.... Um... Very nice."

"God, you are so thirsty." Trish laughed, making the muscles under Jennifer's hand ripple.

The other women were watching, which was the only thing that prompted Jennifer to remove her hand. Eventually, she replied to the insult(?). "I'm not apologising." She jokingly tilted her chin up like some posh aristocrat. Her nerves had melted away with Trish next to her. "So how much taller are you?"

"Three inches. It's so trippy. Everything looks wrong. Lower. Smaller. Even you." She teased, putting a palm on Jennifer's head and tracing it back to her body.

At 5'8, she was now a full half a foot taller than her friend, which meant the top of her head only reached around her lips. Jennifer watched the hand meet her juicy lips and felt a flash of envy run through her. She pushed the ugly emotion down, suppressing it. She was happy for Trish but for the first time she realised maybe she wanted to grow for more than just survival.

The door to the waiting room opened again and Jennifer's primal brain took control. Fight or flight kicked in and adrenaline slipped into her blood stream to join the chemical cocktail it was becoming. The entire doorway was blocked by red and white. Vásquez had to bend, stooping below the door frame to get in. She was dressed almost exactly as Trish was. The colossus looked across at the ladies one by one. Time slowed as she locked eyes with Jennifer. She lingered for a second and then just.... Took a seat.

"Man, these chairs are too fucking small." She said, chair legs bending under her weight, ass spilling over the sides. Jennifer's thudding heart made it hard to hear.

"That is not true." Selina walked over and put a hand gently on Vásquez's. "You are just much bigger." She laughed.

Vásquez lifted the tiny hand and then pushed her palm to Selina's. "That's true." She smirked, looking at how she dwarfed Selina's hand. She closed her fingers, wrapping the tips around Selina's digits.

Jennifer didn't understand what was happening. Her brain stuttered like an old engine trying to make sense of everything. Did Vásquez not see her? Was she safe? Or was this just the calm before the storm?

The walk back was excruciating. She expected revenge to come suddenly. Vásquez turning and stomping her into the ground. But it never came. Not when they got back to medbay. Not when they returned to their cells. Not even when yard time started.

Tension eased out of Jennifer Little by little. She went to the library, she hid out and listened for any information through the grape vine. Nothing came.

Until a large shadow swallowed her, the book and the desk whole. "Hey, blondie." A familiar voice said.

Chapter 4: G37 trial - Week 4 part 2 by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Sorry if this chapter feels a bit slow/short. I'm planning for some weeks to have more than two parts if a lot happens in them plot wise.  

The library was the perfect place to hide away from everyone. Not many people used the facility in their yard time but the library had been bolstered by some initiative that gave prisons extra funding.

The large, square room had a number of book shelves which were set out in rows. When you entered the vast room, there was a row of tables followed by three rows of shelves. A final line of desks sat on the other side of the shelves, meaning the back row of desks was mostly out of sight from the door. Jennifer always sat at the back. It was secluded and out of eye line. The closest thing to a home for her. Beyond the occasional patrols, the guards left the space, turning a blind eye so people could deal drugs or goods.  Everyone knew it was happening, but some guards had a slice of the business.

It was an unspoken rule that this was a cease fire zone. So Jennifer nested here and, right up until a few moments ago, had felt completely safe tucked away in her corner of the deserted library.

Until that voice invaded her peace. The blood in her veins turned to ice. She tilted her head up and up and up.... And up. Vásquez was lent against a book shelf, looking down at the seated, tiny woman. From here, the nearly seven foot latina looked like a skyscraper. She was almost as tall as the shelf she lent on. Jennifer felt like she was sinking into the floor, her stomach already far ahead on it's journey to her shoes. How had someone so large snuck up on her so silently? Had the wheezing air conditioner masked her arrival or was she part panther?

"Oh, more staring?" She asked. Jennifer's eyes dropped to the table in front of her. The already baking library had transformed into a sauna. As if the atmosphere around her had suddenly become heavy. Vásquez slowly strolled around the table, dragging a finger along it's surface. Jennifer was being circled by a great white in open waters.

A huge shadow swallowed Jennifer whole before she passed around to her left. From her seat, Jennifer felt like her eye line was below Vásquez's waist. All she could see in her peripheral vision was legs.

"I-I'm so-" Jennifer began.

"You know, people don't stare here. This place... It's like the jungle." She said, circling behind Jennifer. "You look too long and you start something." Vásquez was fully out of Jennifer's vision now, an oppressive tension weighing down on the dimunitive woman physically. Jennifer pulled her legs in under her, knees pressed together, a claustrophobia descending on her. She didn't know what to do. Could she talk her way out of this? Run? Fight? The latter sounded like a terrible idea but then, if this was it, she might as well try, right? She thought back to her first encounter with Vásquez. The phone call. She'd turned her kidney into pulp and it had taken weeks to pee right again. That was when she wasn't 8 inches bigger and stronger than ever...

Vásquez hadn't said anything for a while so Jennifer took that as her cue to speak. "Look, I'm really so-"

"I don't think you were trying to start something, though." Vásquez spoke over her again. Jennifer could hear the smile in her voice and feel the eyes burning into the back of her head. Vásquez was enjoying making her squirm. She bent at the waist, lower and lower and lower until the weight of her breasts pressed against Jennifer's back and neck. She brought her chin low, lips almost brushing the blonde woman's ear. Hot breath tickled her as she was asked, "or, were you?" Jennifer's face was burning now, fear causing adrenaline to slowly sweep through her. The weight of the goliath was becoming too much, forcing Jennifer to hunch more, slipping down in her seat. She felt like she was shrinking under the pressure.

"N-no! Of course not, I wo-"

There was a deafening crack of thunder as Vásquez slapped the table with a palm that could crack a skull. Her left hand had come down like Mjölnir. The force had made the flimsy desk buckle and bounce, sending the already terrified Jennifer into jumping in her seat, jostling the tits that were engulfing her. She was left quaking as Vásquez gradually continued crushing her. She could feel the swell of abs on her upper back too now. Tears were welling up in her eyes. "That's what I thought!" Vásquez said, smile in her voice again. Her tone turned menacing and her whispers returned to Jennifer's ear. "So, why the fuck do I keep catching you looking at me, blondie?" This time she didn't leave a gap to reply. "Why are you, the tiny, weak, pathetic rabbit staring at the king of the jungle?" She enunciated each word with a sharpness like a knife, punctuating the insults with more and more weight. The pixie-esque woman thought she'd turn into a diamond under her. Even the plastic chair felt like it was bowing beneath them.

"I-I-" Vásquez's right hand came up like a boxers upper cut, fingers cupped Jennifer's chin dragging her deeper into the cleavage.

Vásquez had taken her face away from Jennifer's ears now, she stood straighter, pulling Jennifer up in her seat. Her voice boomed down from above as if it came from some omnipotent prescence. "Don't fucking lie to me, pendeja." She warned, nails digging into pale cheeks and  pushing Jennifer against the wall of torso. All along her back she could feel muscle. Pectoral and abs softly shifting as Vásquez breathed.

There was no way out of this. No deus ex machina. No guard around the corner. No saviour. No escape. She could lie but that sinking feeling grew stronger when she debated it. It was like Vásquez could see through her. Into her. With a heavy dread crawling over her, resignation to her fate set in and Jennifer closed her eyes.

Her cheeks were mushed together, pushing her lips into an odd shape. She still somehow managed to squeak, "I... I think you're hot."

The confession had been wrung out of her. Bled out of her. Tears were streaming down her flushed, twisted cheeks at odd angles. Shame and fear mingled into a dark cloud of emotions that squeezed Jennifer's chest. She felt stupid for even considering these feelings. For having been caught staring at her. Vásquez stood there for a moment that felt like an hour.

Suddenly she was released and she dropped into the chair. Jennifer breathed in a shocked, jagged, stuttered breath. Her brain ran a mile a minute, flashes of all the possible outcomes that could befall her. A part of her was sure she was about to die.

Vásquez yanked on Jennifer's chair, dragging her away from the table with a grating sound that masked the yelp that came out of her. In a fluid motion, she stepped to Jennifer's side and then lifted a leg high, planting it on the other side of the chair. Her hamstrings actually forced the desk back so that now Jennifer was sat between the red woods, straddled by Vásquez who stretched skywards above her.

Vásquez used an index finger to guide Jennifer's chin up, craning her neck slowly back. From beyond the hills of her breasts, two balls of molten magma shone through the dark curtain of ebony hair.

"You're not lying are you?" Came a rumbling question. Or a statement. It was difficult to tell, but Jennifer sniffled as she shook her head, tears slowing. "Prove it."

The two words silenced all the worried chattering in Jennifer's head. "Wha- n-no, I didn't mean t-" Long fingers laced into the short bob of blonde hair. Jennifer's head was yanked back completely, the top of the chair being a pivot to rearrange her vertebrae.

"It wasn't a request."

Her mind was reeling, but the pain worked to focus her. Was this really happening? She... What the fuck? This was really happening. A twisted, erotic nightmare couldn't explain her spine and her neck on the verge of cracking. A hyper sensitivity washed over her. Her heart pounded in her ears. The world outside of a bubble around the two women faded to nothing. She could feel heat radiating off of Vásquez. Off of the legs on either side pinning her to the chair. She could see the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The hint of abs when the vest was pulled tight. Every detail of the black ink images along her right arm. Every strand of wavy black hair and every twitch of muscle. Time was frozen.

Jennifer's eyes flickered to the overalls. She knew what she was tasked to do but didn't want to assume. Didn't want to incur any more wrath.

"Wha-what should I do?"

Vásquez's eyes never broke away. It was difficult to see over the curvature of the shelf of breast, but there was a smirk forming on her lips. "Pull them down." The command was simple. Jennifer's shaking hands went up to Vásquez's waist. She hooked her fingers into the red overalls and pulled down.

With Vásquez's angled legs on either side of her it was actually difficult edging them down. Her arms trembled as she struggled, inching them down her hips and along the swells of her quads. The latina's scent filled her nostrils as she managed to clear the triangle of underwear that was nestled just below her face.

"Them too." Came a purring voice from above. Jennifer obeyed but not quickly enough. Vásquez, yanked her head back again, "faster."

Jennifer rolled the elastic waistband along silky, caramel skin to unveil Vásquez's sex. She'd seen her naked in the showers, admiring the woman from a distance. This was different. This was very different.

Jennifer swallowed hard as she stared down Vásquez's pussy. The neatly trimmed hair, the lips that just couldn't hide the pink, marble nub that throbbed delightfully.

Never could Jennifer have imagined she'd be here. Through all the fear, some part of her, deep, deep down was thrilled. Vásquez rose up onto her tip toes before thrusting Jennifer face first into her.

Jennifer let out a muffled moan of pain as Vásquez dropped back down, flat footed, bending Jennifer's spine. She struggled but Vásquez's was already grinding against her face, using her like a toy. She was so wet already, clearly having enjoyed the interrogation on more than one level.

"Start licking, bitch." She breathed from above, moving Jennifer to match her body's rhythm. Again, Jennifer did as she was told, perhaps more eagerly than last time.

She pushed her tongue out, into Vásquez's warm folds, probing and exploring her. A throaty moan echoed through the library and Vasquez let out a little laugh. "Fuck me, you're not bad at this." She wasn't worried about being caught,  apparently. Vásquez began grinding harder and faster, making Jennifer's bones ache. Her tongue feverishly thrust and flickered and tried to elicit as much pleasure for the giant fucking her face as possible. And it was working.

Nerves crackled up and down the woman's body as tingles radiated across her skin. "O-oh, fuck."

Vásquez edged forwards, legs inching around Jennifer more and more, pushing the smaller woman under her into a better position to use. She mashed the woman's face into her, clit grinding against her nose and lips and face. The chair legs were curving, bending and bowing as Vásquez lost herself in the sensation of having the tiny woman eat her out. Her hips bucked and rocked the blondes brain in her skull. Waves of thick nectar spilled out over Jennifer, each thicker and heavier than the last. The poor woman was forced to gulp it down between tiny gasps of air.

The gyration were speeding up. Growing more forceful. Vásquez was building into a sexual frenzy,  losing herself in the sensations.

She stopped and pulled Jennifer free abruptly. Stepping back, she knocked the desk aside without realising, pulling her overalls down completely and kicking them aside. Then she returned.

Vásquez straddled the woman even deeper, legs closer to the back of the chair. She gripped a handful of hair more tightly and contorted Jennifer, bending her over the back of the chair and thrusting her into her crotch. She gave a grunt of pleasure. But she craved more. Deeper. A redwood rose up and stomped down behind the chair. The chair and the woman both bent to Vásquez's will.

Jennifer squealed out in pain but Vásquez didn't care. She didn't care how much Jennifer's tongue or neck or back hurt. She didn't care about the pitifully low amount of oxygen in her lungs. She didn't care about her juices making Jennifer sputtering and choke. She should feel fucking honoured at the chance to be crushed by her cunt.

As the tempo increased, Vásquez edged closer to a climax. She fucked the woman's face harder, pulling her hair, using it as a joystick for her new plaything. Walls of thigh crushed Jennifer's body with every thrust. Thighs that rivaled her torso. Jennifer ran her hands along them. She told herself it was to keep her steady but that was a lie. She wanted to feel the quads and adductors and hamstrings flexing. She wanted to run her fingers along the muscle as they flexed against her. It didn't dull the pain but it spiced it with pleasure. Secretly, Jennifer was growing wetter down below. In the more deviant depths of her  mind she was enjoying the idea of being used. Having her body abused to get off another woman. A larger, sexier, stronger woman.

The latina let out a louder moan, arching her back and leaning onto Jennifer more. She tilted the woman's head and pushed down, trying to get her tongue as deep as possible, grinding her engorged, pulsing clitoris against anything she could. Her nerves screamed as she teetered on the edge of orgasm.

While Vásquez was heaving in vicious, shallow huffs, Jennifer couldn't breath at all now. Her face was smeared with Vásquez's juices, her mouth coated in it, and she was being face fucked so hard that she couldn't break away to get any air. That deviant part of her brain dwindled as survival instincts took hold. Her lungs burned. She stopped feeling up the ocean of muscle and legs and instead started pounding on the redwoods. But it may well have been a gnat smacking against marble. She couldn't escape the storm. With no other option, she steered into it.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around Vásquez and pulled herself deeper. Her vision began to grow hazy. Above, the moans of a titan rang out and she redoubled her efforts, feverishly licking and undulating her tongue. Vásquez's knuckles turned white, her eyes fluttering and - 


The dam broke.

The pressure increased. Thighs turned compactors around the blonde, the muscles around her constricting. Vásquez bucked hard, climax tearing through her nerves.

The powerful thrust proved too much for the bent and mangled metal legs on the chair. One leg snapped and Jennifer was weightless for a moment before the iron grip on her hair stopped her from falling to earth. The titanic latina had stumbled forwards but stayed upright.

One pain stopped and another began. Jennifer coughed and sputtered, hanging from Vásquez's one hand like a puppet. Thankfully, fingers loosened and let the blonde hair slip from their grasp. Jennifer fell into a heap on the floor.

From the ground, on top of the broken chair, she had an astounding view.

Vásquez had a thin sheen of sweat on her body, copper skin shimmering as she heaved above her like a mythical beast after a taxing hunt. Her inner thighs were covered in juices, pussy practically dripping with a mix of saliva and nectar. The beast still hungered though.

Jennifer winced as she tried to sit forwards. Her neck and jaw flaring after the beating they'd taken. She didn't make it far upright. A huge sole came forward to stop her. Jennifer looked down at the foot that she'd seen dwarfing a scale hours ago. They must have been struggling to find Vásquez's shoe size in boots, as now she was wearing plimsolls. The leg extended, kicking Jennifer back to the ground. "Not done yet." grunted her oppressor.

Vásquez descended on her captive. For Jennifer the world was consumed by flesh and darkness.

"Wait!" She rasped but it was ignored. Vásquez's knees crashed down above Jennifer's head, shins pinning her arms down while ass and pussy enveloped her head. A hand that could palm a basketball snaked between the canyon of muscular thigh and fingers curled around her scalp, pulling back into the depths.

Jennifer had guzzled down some air but now she really couldn't breath. Her tongue was put to work again and the smouldering coals in Vásquez's engine roared back into an inferno.

This time the orgasm built quicker. That just meant the rough treatment approached sooner too. Vásquez rode Jennifer's face raw. She bucked and thrust and ground against her. As she did she was gradually lowering herself into a flatter position and seriously fucking Jennifer's face.

The hand on the back of her head cushioned the repeated impacts on the tiled floor, but her oxygen deprived brain was still being rattled in her skull.

Jennifer tried to move. To push the giant off. To claw at her. To kick something over. Nothing worked. Every effort was futile. She could feel the massive expanse of muscle flexing around her. The quads and hamstrings and glutes. Darkness encroached, swallowing her up, senses failing. The last thing she would remember was the feeling of being submerged in muscle and flesh, and the tangy taste that filled her mouth and nose.

She slipped into unconsciousness, but that didn't stop Vásquez. She continued using her toy until she exploded into a second wave of orgasms. The satisfied woman rolled off of the prone husk, laughing.

"Fuck. I bet they could hear that in the yard." The smile dropped from her face when Jennifer didn't move.

She kicked her lightly, "hey. Hey!" She said kicking her harder. She sprang up, spinning around and kneeling next to Jennifer. Her eyes watched for anything. Any movement of her chest. She leaned in and slapped a nectar smeared cheek. "Hey!" She bellowed.

This time it worked. Jennifer weakly began to open her eyes, chest moving up and down more obviously.

The concern was gone in an instant. Instead a fist drove into Jennifer, crushing her solar plexus to the ground and forcing her diaphragm into a foreign shape.

Jennifer's emerald eyes went wide as she was brought back into the world of the conscious with a bang. Vásquez stood up, leaving the woman writhing on the floor. She pulled her underwear and overalls back on and then returned. A foot smashed Jennifer to the ground and pinned her there, ribs doing their best not to concave.

Vásquez leaned on her knee, pushing the foot deeper into Jennifer. "You know what all that meant, blondie? All that," she drew a circle with her finger in the air, gesturing to Jennifer's soaked face, "that's me marking you. You're fucking mine now. Understand?" Jennifer nodded frantically. "Good."

The foot lifted and Vásquez turned, disappearing into the forest of book shelves as silently as she'd arrived.

Jennifer laid back on the floor, regaining her breath. After some time she finally broke down. Laying there on the floor she turned into a quivering, crying mess. She had almost fucking died and Vásquez hadn't even been trying to kill her. She'd been turned into a toy. An object. Some plaything for a fucking psychopath. And what made her feel most dirty and ashamed.... Even that was hot.

Jennifer climbed off of the ground, stumbling away from the debris of the chair and desk that Vásquez had decimated during her primal rut. Her body hurt all over, the adrenaline fading. Even breathing was painful. She looked down at her overalls to find her chest was stained darker. She really had been marked. Scented with sex. Vásquez's scent clung to her, deep in her pores.

Yard time was winding down and Jennifer was running out of time. She desperately wanted to shower before they lost the privilege. She hobbled through the halls, trying to keep her distance from anyone else, worried they'd know what happened. It was inevitable though. Someone would know and someone would gossip.

She made it to the sshower, but with hardly any time opted to pull her overalls down to her waist and just scrub her face. The tears started anew when she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Hair a crows nest, eyes bloodshot. She couldn't get rid of the fucking smell. Or at least she thought she couldn't. After some time she was forced to give up and return to her cell.

Jennifer got a few weird looks on the way but she kept her gaze low. If she had looked up she'd have seen some people laughing, but others looking sorrowful. Rumours were already spreading. Vásquez had a new toy. Her cell mate said something as she entered but Jennifer tuned it out. She hit her bunk and slept until morning, skipping dinner and her new tradition of working out.

Chapter 5: G37 trial - Week 4 part 3 by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

This one has a lot of exposition but a sprinkle of growth in the middle-ish and at the end!

The next morning was rough. Almost any movement hurt. Jennifer had had to stiffly walk through the morning inspections before, thankfully, getting to the shower. There she found a massive blotchy bruise on her upper abdomen. A reminder of her assault yesterday. She wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her but she swore she could also smell Vásquez on her. It must have been in her head though, right?

She returned to her cell to find Rachel, her cell mate, sat on the edge of the top bunk. The biker was a more portly woman, covered in tattoos. A long braid of fire like hair curled over one of her shoulders.

"You a lobos now?" She asked.

Jennifer gave a puzzled look. "What? Fuck no. I don't... Y'know, fit there demographic."

"I thought that too, but that doesn't change the fact that two of 'em were down here looking for you. Told me to pass on a message. Vásquez wants to see you at breakfast." Rachel shook her head. "Good luck, Jen."

Jennifer had a grim expression on her face. Is being a slave for one of the lobos classed as being a part of the gang?

She doubted it. As requested, she fought against every instinct and went to meet Vásquez in the canteen. The tiny woman weaved through the throngs of people, looking for a shape that towered over everyone. When Vásquez was sat down it was a bit more difficult to find her. That difficulty was deepened by the fact that Jennifer could hardly turn her head side to side. She was forced to swivel her body to avoid pains shooting along her back and neck.

Those exaggerated movements caused a fatal error. As she swivelled, she smacked the tray out of someone's hand. Her stomach plummeted, anger and hatred for the lobos dwindled as she saw it was a K13 member. "What the fuck, bitch?!" Snarled the woman.

Jennifer backed away hands held up. "I didn't mean to! I'm sorry." The entire canteen turned to watch as the K13 member picked the tray up from the ground and stalked towards Jennifer.  She might have been able to run away if her body wasn't so beaten down already.  The other woman batted Jennifer in the face with the tray. A metallic clang rang out as her head twisted and nerves screamed.

Jennifer hit the floor, scrambling away from the aggressor. What happened next was unexpected. Two women in orange filtered through the crowd. "Back the fuck up, puta." One said, shoving the K13 member. The other threw a tray at the woman, splattering her with eggs.

The room was deafening quiet for a moment before chattering began, people bustling closer to see what would unfold. The K13 member stared daggers at the two women as more K13 ladies amassed behind her. She held her arms out, barring them from advancing. She looked to the guards picking their way over. "Take her and go fuck yourselves."

Jennifer was surprised to be hauled to her feet by the one throwing the tray. She had a scar over the bridge of her nose. "Come on." The other woman grunted and together the three pushed through the crowd.

"Um.... Thanks."

"Don't thank us." Scar said.

"Why do we even have to do this shit?"

"Maria said we have to. That not enough for you?" Scar barked back, silencing the other woman.

All eyes were on them as they crossed the canteen and Jennifer was brought to a table of Los lobos. As they drew closer she could feel goosebumps prickling her skin. Even full of hatred, she couldn't stop the fear creeping through her. She knew who was at this table. It wasn't just Vásquez.

"About fucking time." Vásquez said through a mouthful of eggs.

"Now, now, V. You should thank your couriers. They brought her.... Relatively unharmed." Maria said, looking at the red mark on Jennifer's face.

"Lo siento, Maria." Scar said, genuinely apologetic. She continued in Spanish more complex than what Jennifer could understand.

"It's fine. You did good." Maria nodded and the two ladies left. "So this is her?" Maria's eyed Jennifer up and down. She suddenly felt naked.

Maria was fairer than Vásquez. Much smaller too. She was middle aged and had crows feet around her eyes. Those eyes reminded Jennifer of Smith. Cold and calculating. "Why is it always the blondes?" A smile cracked her face and she elbowed Vásquez, warmth entering her eyes now.

Vásquez rolled her eyes, "it's not always blondes."

"Ohhh, really?" She replied, leaning back. She started listing names on her fingers. "Carla, Bela, Sarah, Sofia-"

"Okay, okay.  Shit, maybe I like blondes!" Vásquez said, holding up her hands. Was she.... Embarrassed? Some of the other ladies at the table chuckled at the interaction. It was eerie seeing this side of Vásquez. Seeing her almost as a regular person in a group of friends. She turned to face Jennifer and those thoughts crumbled. "What?" She asked with an icy tone. "Go get some fucking food. Tell them it's for me."

Right, so she was a slave.

Jennifer looked to the mound of scrambled eggs on Vásquez's tray. Wasn't that enough? Jennifer thought back to her diet and realised Vásquez must have had a tailor made one too. Surely she was over eating though....

Jennifer went to the line and, as ordered, collected even more food for Vásquez. She collected a tray for herself as well.

When she finally returned Vásquez's tray was empty. She greedily snatched the new tray and continued her rampage. She and Maria had been discussing something in Spanish but now that food had arrived the conversation slowed.

Jennifer tried to translate bits and pieces but hardly got anything. It seemed like it was about the aryans.

Before Jennifer could finish her tray, it was dragged across the table. She opened her mouth to protest but then remembered where she was. Vásquez had finished the second tray and moved onto Jennifer's.

That hope that she'd grow became slimmer and slimmer.

Eventually Vásquez seemed satisfied and stood up to stretch. Her abs were bloated out into almost a rectangular shape under the vest. The vast abdominals bulged out like bricks in a wall. They did a good job of keep the food compact.

Jennifer had spent a lot of time with Vásquez yesterday. Up close and personal. That's why seeing her standing,  she noticed a difference.  "You're bigger." She croaked. The table grew silent and all eyes moved to her.

"Yep." Maria said, nodding. There was no denying it anyway. Jennifer could see her clothes were ill fitting. The vest riding up and the tightness around her hips.

"A full inch and a half over night." Vásquez clarified, smugly. "Maybe our little play date had an effect on that purple shit." That smirk made Jennifer's blood boil. "I'm gonna go get a protein shake. Be in the yard in an hour."

"How are you still not full?" stopped Jennifer's internal filter from saving her this time. She suppressed the urge to clap a hand over her mouth.

Both Maria and Vásquez stared at her. She wilted under their predatory aura like a flower in the desert outside. But then Maria shot Vásquez an amused look that said 'this one is fiesty.' Maria spoke for the giant. "She is full. But she's not a pussy. The gang needs her bigger, so she'll get bigger." The matriarch shed light on Vásquez's mentality. "Plus she seems to like being big." Maria added, shrugging.

Vásquez didn't say anything immediately. She did say something in Spanish to Maria and they began talking quickly back and forth. It ended with Vásquez giving an annoyed scoff. She turned back to Jennifer, "One hour. Don't make me fucking find you." Then she left.

She left, leaving Jennifer alone with Maria and a handful of other wolves. She'd never been this close to one of the leaders of a gang. "I'll get going." She said softly, picking up the trays to return them, and awkwardly scurrying away. No one said anything until she was out of ear shot.

As she walked through the halls, going back to her cell, something dawned on Jennifer. People were getting out of her way. That display in the canteen had spread like wildfire and now, people knew who she was. For the first time in a while the tension eased in her shoulders. Being a slave to a monster has it's perks, apparently.

But then one down side was about to rear it's head. She spotted Trish and hurried over to chat. Trish sliced at her neck viciously. Jennifer stopped dead in her tracks, confused. Trish nodded her head towards the library and got a head start.

Jennifer looked passed Trish to the library. To her sanctuary. The sanctuary that had been marred and corrupted. Polluted by yesterday's events. She didn't want to go back in there. She didn't want to relive yesterday. But she had to. Trish was more important than the trauma. Despite only being friends for a little over a month,  Jennifer had some powerful feelings for her.

They met up in the back row of desks. A nauseating nostalgia crept through Jennifer as she looked at the space where a desk was missing.

"You're with lobos?" Trish whispered, voice laced with concern.

"No... I... I'm... You're bigger." Jennifer said looking up at her friend, trying to avoid the topic for as long as possible.

"Yeah, I grew an inch or something. Forget that, what the fuck happened?" She said waving her hand like she was trying to blow away the fact she'd grown more. It was hard for Jennifer to talk about. She didn't want to dip into her memories and explain. She'd much rather talk about Trish officially being tall at 5'9. She knew Trish wouldn't drop it though so, she steeled herself and pushed through.

"Vásquez caught me staring at her yesterday." Her voice began to waver, eyes welling up. Shit this was hard. "A-after she grew. I-it was stupid but I just... Fucking...." Jennifer paused. She didn't want to dwell on her mistake. "She was pissed and - and uumm, she kinda, came here and found me uh...." She heaved a breath and looked back at the missing desk. "I thought I was dead. I thought she'd just pound me into the fucking floor b-but..." The tears started flowing. "She started asking me questions and then," Jennifer's lip quivered, her voice croaked. "Well, sexually assaulted me." She said, pointing to the desk as if it would help in the explanation. Even saying those words felt dirty. Like the act was resurfacing on her skin. Jennifer wanted to scrub her skin raw in the shower again.

Trish didn't say a word. Jennifer was about to continue elaborating but flinched instead, Trish's longer arms wrapped her up in a hug, cradling her to her body. For some reason that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Jennifer hadn't had a real hug in months. Maybe even years. Since coming here human contact had taken a nose dive and even before that, she'd had to avoid seeing family and friends when the police were on her tail.

This warm, gentle, all encompassing hug made Jennifer melt into Trish. It made her think back to all the shit she'd been ping ponged through. Just batted from one crappy event to another. It contrasted so hard with the brutality of yesterday, despite being separated spatialially from where it had happened by a few yards.

Jennifer's whole body quaked as sobs ripped through her and she cried into Trish. Trish clutched her tighter, her own lip wobbling above the blonde crop of hair.

They stayed like that for a while. Trish holding her, the only thing keeping her from collapsing to her knees as she ugly cried into red overalls. Eventually, the crying slowed and Jennifer mentally said 'fuck it.' She took the plunge. She looked up, rocked onto her toes and pressed her lips to Trish's plush, soft, beautiful lips. Trish stiffened for a moment before, thankfully, kissing back.

Once they broke apart, after the stretched seconds of bliss, Trish chuckled. "Girl, you are SO thirsty."

"Fuck off." Jennifer choked out a laugh as she sputtered through the last of the tears.

Jennifer wiped at her face. "I've got to go. That giant bitch wants to see me in the yard."

"Alright. Let me get a head start. We can't be seen together." That was like a knife to the heart.

"What?"

"What? You're with... You're lobos affiliated now. I can't be seen with you."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Are you kidding? We've been at war with them over drugs for years. If anyone sees me with you it'll start shit for me in the nation." Jennifer felt a cold slab of reality hit her as she swallowed a lump in her throat.

"I mean, we can always sneak away and meet up but... Yeah, this medical trial shit has the whole prison stirred up worse than I've ever seen it." Trish said, jaw clenching. "Everyone is on edge. Vásquez could take on three people in a fight before, y'know. Now... Shit. How many could she take out by herself?  Five, six, seven, I don't fucking know." Jennifer hadn't realised Trish was this stressed but seeing her talk now, it was obvious. "And-and everyone is just trying to get me growing faster. Even people in my own gang. They were all fucking hyped when I came back bigger." She crossed her arms, suddenly looking self conscious eyes grazing over at the rows of books. "It's like I'm just a tool now. A weapon."

"This is a cold war. And we're the nukes." Jennifer's voice was hollow, thinking back to what Maria had said earlier about Vásquez.

"Yeah and the US and.... Where ever the fuck Lobos are from are leading the nuke count right now. Especially if you start growing."

Jennifer looked horrified. "What? I'm not with them. I wouldn't fight. Especially not for them." She said, disgust dripping from her voice.

"I know that. Any one that knows you does. But not everyone knows you." Trish said, rubbing her arms. She looked up at the clock. "Fuck, we better go. People are gonna start asking questions." She leaned in and kissed Jennifer on the cheek, sending a fluttering through her stomach. "Leave in 5." She said before slipping away.

Jennifer felt a pwang of sadness run through her. She leaned to the side to watch Trish leave. Then she was alone in the almost empty library. She could feel the space behind her. The missing desk. It felt like it was sucking her in, a spectral monster taunting her, ready to devour her mind. Jennifer looked to the clock and focused on the seconds ticking by instead.

When she arrived at the yard, 10 minutes earlier than ordered, she found Vásquez already working out. Usually, it was hard to follow what she was doing due to all the lobos that dominated the area, but today she had a front row seat. Sweat dripped off of her chin as she did burpees. Jennifer watched her go down, do a push up, snap back up, jump. Over and over. There was a growing puddle of sweat at her feet.

She was like a machine. Precise, repetitive movements being churned out like a piston in an engine. When she finally stopped she noticed Jennifer for the first time. Despite being stood so close, Vásquez's focus meant she hadn't registered her arrival at all. "Come on, I'm done warming up." She said, Barely winded.


Jennifer followed along as Vásquez walked through the lobos. She stared at the numerous weights spread throughout the area. Dumbells, barbells, benches and racks mostly littered the area. Guards watched from the towers, making sure no one would use the equipment for more malicious intentions. To be completely fair, the inmates were respectful of the equipment, gangs taking turns to use them in allotted times so no tensions got out of hand. It was a slither of order in the chaos of the penitentiary. Turns out people crave exercise when they're locked in a room for most of the day.

Vásquez shoved a set of metallic clip into Jennifer's hands. "Hold this." She said before slamming plates onto a barbell hanging on a rack. Jennifer stood silently, watching the plates adding up.

As the numbers on the bar climbed so did Jennifer's eyebrows. 300lbs on the bar. Vásquez took the clips, put them on and then slipped under the bar. With a soft grunt she lifted the weight on her shoulders and stepped back. She took a breath before dropping into the first squat. Then the second and third and fourth. She was fluid, effortlessly cranking through the squats one at a time.

She re-racked the barbell and then, casually, went to add more weight. This really impressed the blonde. She slapped on a further 50lbs, got under the bar and then began squatting the weight. The first few were quick and steady, but as she went through the repetitive motions, they became slower. Harder. More sweat dripped off of her body as she pushed and struggled.

She began to shake with each rep, forcing the muscles in her legs to continue working. To grow. Jennifer's eyes were peeled, drinking this all in. It was odd seeing her struggle. Vásquez seemed cartoonishly powerful, built up in Jennifer's mind as some unstoppable villain. It was refreshing to know even she had to work for it.

Vásquez finished her set and racked the weight. Then, to the smaller woman's astonishment, she moved to add even more weight to the bar. Jennifer went to say something but quickly stopped. If the giant bitch wanted to hurt herself then let her.

She stepped back, crossed her arms and smirked as she watched, sure she was about to see her captor be folded under the bar before the set was done.

Vásquez unracked the bar, stepped back and practically fell into her first squat. Jennifer's smirk stretched wider and smuger. Was she too proud to ask for help? To call for a spot?

Vásquez wobbled gradually upright. She went for a second squat. Then a third. Jennifer's smirk faltered. Each repetition was clearly difficult. Sweat pooled beneath Vasquez as it dripped from her. Her white vest was soaked with dark patches. But she kept pushing. She kept going. Three turned to four and five and six and Jennifer's smirk was gone.  It was replaced by a new found admiration for Vásquez. It always seemed to Jennifer that she was just a brute, talented at fighting and lifting weights. That wasn't true though. Every ounce of muscle and every reflex has been honed. Sharpened in the gym or in fights or the ring. Vásquez worked for every inch of it.

She watched Vásquez burn through the reps, legs filling the overalls as they pumped full of blood and strength. Each struggle of a rep was tearing muscle. Urging it to grow and grow and grow. Jennifer found herself helplessly staring at Vásquez again. Hypnotised by the way her muscles shifted under her clothes. How they filled them and how they flexed. Vásquez didn't stop at eight reps this time.  She kept going, blowing passed that and into double digits. 

As she did,  her overalls tore. Right around her ass, the middle seam in the overalls gave way. Vásquez wasn't getting a pump. She was subtly growing. Thicker and thicker. Legs beefing up beneath her as muscles were reinforced in real time. She was forcing her body to grow right then and there. Jennifer's pale face grew paler. She watched in wonderment as tiny, gradual changes took hold across her body. Vásquez finally racked the bar. She was taller than when she went under it earlier, even if only by a fraction of an inch.

She turned and examined her overalls, lifting the top half which hung low over her ass and exposing the tear. "Again?" She panted, trying to regulate her breathing. Jennifer stared at the gorgeous curve of ass that she could see. Undoubtedly, it too was probably juicier than before. Vásquez didn't realise she'd grown in real time.

Jennifer stayed tight lipped, eyes glueing to the floor when the giant cast her gaze to her. Vásquez beckoned to Jennifer as she went onto her next exercise.

The next four days went quite similarly to the last. She would wake up, meet the wolves for breakfast, be a food courier, have a little free time and then watch Vásquez lift impossible weights. All the while, Vásquez was bigger, thicker and stronger with each sunrise. It would be hot if it wasn't so soul crushing.

After exercise Jennifer would be a delivery person, brining lunch to Vásquez. With each meal Vásquez would devour inhuman quantities, visibly forcing herself to consume more than she needed to. Jennifer would always have some of her own calorie and protein intake hoovered up by the giant. She couldn't tell if it was out of spite or as some weird flex of dominance, but she'd always say the same thing.  "Not like you need it anyway. You're not growing." Salt in the wound. 

If it was a display of dominance, it worked. It made Jennifer feel small and powerless, like a she was back in school, bullied in the play ground. It was all compounded by the fact that Vásquez would be full to bursting when she did it too. Now it wasn't just Maria, Smith and the warden feeding Vásquez's growth. Jennifer was too. Even if it was through coercion, food that could have been fueling her own growth was being sucked away by someone who was already eating more than two regular people, already full of food, already huge, and, worst of all, already growing.

On one of the days Jennifer hadn't been able to eat lunch at all. Vásquez had taken her tray as soon as she sat down and stuffed herself with every crumb. She'd pounded a protein shake afterwards, up ending the plastic container and draining it dry. Vásquez had looked completely destroyed after doing it though. She had to waddle back to her cell,  which gave Jennifer some solace.

After her grind with Los Lobos, she would get back to regular prison life. All inmates were given duties on a rotor - usually cleaning or laundry. At dinner she was left alone and after dinner she was locked in her cell.

One silver lining of being with Vásquez so much was the fire it ignited in Jennifer. At night she worked out twice as hard. If she was going to have her fuel stolen by the bitch then she'd just have to make progress with double the work. Plus, watching Vásquez workout had given Jennifer some new ideas for her body weight work outs.

On Friday the guards summoned her to medbay, cutting her torture short. "Hey, why just her?" Vásquez asked the guard. He just shrugged.

In medbay, Jennifer was met with only Jessica and Smith. Her heart sank.  She'd been hoping to see Trish here too. "Hello, ladies." Came Smith's  patented greeting. "As you can see, we're electing to administer your doses in pairs today. Questions?"

Jessica answered,  nerves obvious in her voice. "Why are we being split up?"

Jennifer chimed in too, "will all the ladies be going two at a time?" She wanted to know what would happen to Trish. 

"Vásquez broke her bed and restraints earlier this week. We can't have staff safety breached again, so we'll be taking you in pairs until we're able to assure everyone's safety better. And to answer the second question, no." Jennifer's brow furrowed. "Vásquez will not recieve a treatment today. We'll be pausing her treatment until we find stronger restraints." She almost cackled. Fuck, this was perfect.  A chance for others to potentially catch up with Vásquez.

With questions answered, Smith herded the ladies through huge, ID locked door. Jennifer looked at the two guards with them today.

"No Jackson?" She asked.

"No. I've shuffled our staff." Smith said, not bothering to look at Jennifer as he replied. She fucking knew it. It was because of his friction with Vásquez. Right now, they were more valuable to the experiment than the guards were. They wouldn't be kicking anyone out of the trials, especially not Vásquez. But then that did mean Vásquez would be back getting G37 pumped into her soon. They wouldn't want to pause her treatment for too long.

Jennifer continued mapping the journey to their usual testing area but was surprised to find they were heading along a different route. One that was shorter.  She expanded her mental map.

When they reached the room they followed the ritual. Strip, weighed, measured, clothed, bed, restraints, needle.

Jessica and Jennifer were sat propped up in beds much closer than usual as the purple chemicals eased into their system.

Minutes ticked by as the biker and the art thief sat in silence. Jessica would mumble something to herself every now and then, nervous about the trial. Jennifer was the opposite, eagerly scanning herself for any changes.

But none came. And when Jessica let out a pained moan, Jennifer turned to watch in frustration.

Jessica had her red overalls half down, as many opted to do. She wore a black vest which contrasted strongly against her milky skin.

Jennifer watched her writhe in the bed, hips wriggling into the mattress. The second moan wasn't pained. Jennifer blinked a few times, watching Jessica's expression change as she shimmied. She wasn't in pain at all. Jessica was fighting against her restraints, trying to pull a hand down to her crotch.

This was pleasurable.

Jessica gave out soft, short curses, "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." Eyes squeezed tight as she crossed her legs and pressed her thighs together.

Then the changes started. The already buxom woman didn't undergo a transformation like Trish or Vásquez. Her muscles didn't engorge and thicken. Her curves did.

Jessica bit her lip, toes curling as her body arched. Her soft features twisted in orgasmic joy. The two melons on her chest gurgled larger, bubbling up like dough in a tin that was woefully undersized. Porcelain skin spilled over the cups of her bra as the material groaned. Jennifer saw dusty, chalky blue veins beneath the pale surface, becoming more prominent. Her body lengthened, heels dragging lines down the mattress while her hips expanded. Envy ran through Jennifer, why couldn't this be her? Muscles, curves, size, anything!

Her thoughts were silenced by the moan Jessica gave out. A cry of orgasm, apparently. The whole thing ended with a gunshot snap of a bra band and a sweaty, panting Jessica crashed back to the mattress.

"Now that.... Was better than I thought.... It'd be." Jessica chuckled between breaths, her tits now threatening to touch her chin.

She looked down at the ocean of tit flesh, smashed together in the broken bra. "God, these girls look good." She purred to herself. Jessica noticed the blue veins had sunk back, now far less visible.

"Take her back to her cell." Smith ordered. "Erikson, get up here so we can get your measurements." He said to Jessica, waving the nurses over to her. Smith gave a disappointed look to Jennifer and she felt her shoulder sink in defeat. He wasn't the only one disappointed.

The nurses unhooked their restraints and the two women rose from their beds.  Jessica had been quite tall before.  Maybe 5'7. Now she was about 5'9 and had a ridiculous hourglass shape.  "Awww, you look so cute down there!" She laughed down at Jennifer, making the blonde bristle with even more rage. To rub it in more,  Jessica turn her and hip checked Jennifer, sending her crashing back into the bed behind her. The guards stepped forwards and barred Jennifer from any retaliation. Not like she could do anything to the G cup sporting biker anyway.

The new guard pushed Jennifer out of the room. They stared through the labyrinth. After some time, Jennifer began to think this new guy didn't exactly know where he was going. Turning left and right and circling around a few times cemented it to her.

"Are we lost?" She asked the disgruntled guard,  knowing they were.

"What? No. This way." He barked, scanning his ID on a door that Jennifer had never seen before. When it opened, her jaw dropped. Inside the doorway was a huge lab. Machines whirring and people clad in hazmat suits were busily working.

IV bags hung from rack dotted around the machines, full of purple liquid.

They were manufacturing it here. They were manufacturing G37 in the prison. There was so. Fucking. Much.

Chapter 6: G37 trial - Week 5 by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Just a warning, kind of a graphic fight near the start of this chapter.

Jennifer had been bursting to spill the gossip of what she'd found out for days now. She only trusted Trish with the new information but hadn't been able to get any time alone with her. She felt like her brain was going to explode.

After the new guard had realised the error he'd been a sputtering mess, yanking Jennifer away from the door and promptly shoving her down the corridor. In the end, Jennifer herself had led them back to the medbay. As soon as she returned from her treatment Vásquez had descended on her with a barrage of questions. They were mainly centered around one topic: 'why didn't I get my dose of G37?' She was pissed to find out her own growth had sabotaged her getting the dose.

What really had Vásquez furious was hearing that Jessica was growing too. Later in the day there was even talk of Selina growing. Only two of the six were left at their original size. Jennifer and Amber.

Although it stung, Jennifer did find it a tad reassuring that she wasn't the only one that hadn't grown. Amber, on the other hand, had gone from a wild, vicious woman to a quietly simmering, rage filled powder keg. She was clearly unhinged normally, now, the situation had her rabid, on the edge of a psychotic meltdown. Jennifer hadn't considered it before but she was probably feeling some pressure from upstream in her gang to grow as well. The aryans couldn't be the only gang without a 'nuke'to deploy, right?

When Jennifer did see Amber once in the canteen she'd been amazed to find that the woman's  broken nose looked far better. In fact, Jennifer had never heard of a broken nose healing that quickly. Then again, the huge blotchy bruise on her stomach had faded in record time. Perhaps G37 had some healing properties, she mused.

Either way, now that every gang apart from the aryans had a growing woman, the prison was beginning to change.

The aryan's influence dwindled as both lobos and nation chipped away at their territory. Their ability to sell drugs and trade was being cut down and fights were beginning to break out. The ecosystem had been disrupted, the food chain unravelling. Previously, the Niners would have come to help mediate a peace between nation and aryans, but this time their long term allies were sitting on the sidelines, biding their time.

With Jessica growing, their small gang size was set to be less of a disadvantage. Especially if they kept their relationship with the nation strong. Jessica was bigger than Amber now. The curvy bombshell had gradually swollen up to 6' even and had always been able to throw a punch. Now that punch would have a lot more weight behind it.

Weights smashed to the dry ground, kicking up dust. Vásquez had been doing deadlifts. With the weight she was now able to move, everytime she dropped the bar, it felt like an earthquake was starting.

Although she hadn't been given her last dose, her passive growth hadn't slowed. She'd continued creeping bigger and taller, forcing her body to grow even without her regular intake of G37. She'd passed 7 foot last week, only a day after Jennifer's lack luster dose. It was like Vásquez was rubbing in the fact that she didn't need a dose to grow.

Now, only three days after that, Vásquez was somewhere closer to 7'6. She was over two foot taller than her tiny play thing. Jennifer's eye level was at her belly button, forcing her to stare up at her tits and crane her neck to make eye contact. If Vásquez was walking in front of her, she had an almost direct view of her (frustratingly) glorious ass.

Maybe it was just some mental self preservation to keep from going insane, but Jennifer's hatred for the amazonian had numbed. Or maybe being forced to spend day after day with your oppressor was similar to being a rock on the coast. The tide smoothed your edges out. Then again, being subjected to the mind bendingly attractive form of the monster could be the driving factor in quelling her anger. Vásquez was gorgeous. Annoyingly so. And there was more of her to appreciate every day. Spending this much time in such close proximity meant lustful glances were plentiful and unavoidable. Jennifer always cursed herself for giving into them afterwards.

Whatever the reason, Jennifer's anger had dulled. Sure, she still hated being around Vásquez, but it was a benign, underlying anger. Her pure, distilled hatred had become muddied.

Vásquez added more weight to the bar. "Jesus." Jennifer said under her breath. She gripped the bar and rose, taking it with her upwards. The metal actually sagged under the weight held on either end. She must have been lifting over 500lbs.

Jennifer did the maths, quickly and felt her brain stutter. She checked the count. It was actually closer to 600lbs, at 575lbs. Yet Vásquez was able to keep going, rep after rep until she was done. Without thinking Jennifer spoke. "Holy shit. Well done." It had been a awe struck reaction that she hadn't quite been able to contain.

Vásquez had been about to add more weight on when she turned to look at her, bemused. Jennifer had been diligent in her rebellious act of staying silent. It was the only thing she could really do to show her anger towards Vásquez. These were the first words she'd said in a while. There was a flicker of an emotion across Vásquez's face that Jennifer couldn't place. It was quickly gone, a heat haze or mirage in the desert. The usual smug grin replaced it as if it had never been there. "Thanks, blondie. But I'm not here for your praise. Go get -"

"Vásquez!" Bellowed a voice across the yard. It was Scar (who Jennifer had found out was actually called Alvarez). She had a bloody lip and swelling forming on her face, kicking up dust as she ran. The lobos split like the red (but actually orange) sea, giving her passage to the giant in the middle of the ocean. "The ar-the aryans." She managed, breathlessly. "They fu- they're fucking up Tanya and Melina in the showers because we were dealing." The showers was another area that drugs and contraband was traded. They  were held in a large, blue tiled hall which was connected to the bathrooms by a set of changing rooms. It was the perfect place to have a shady deal due to the lack of cameras.

"Go tell Maria. Everyone else stay here." Was all Vásquez said. A dust cloud replaced her towering form. Powerful legs had churned up the sands beneath her feet like a leaf blower. Pounding footsteps could be heard as she tore across the yard. Jennifer hesitated for a moment.

Fuck it. She wanted to see what would happen. She gave chase.

It was only once she'd started running that she realised how insanely quick Vásquez was. Shorter, weaker legs meant she was running at a snails pace compared to the blistering speed Vásquez was moving at. It did feel like she was running in the wake of a storm though. Doors that had been bashed open, groups that had been barrelled through.  It was easy to follow hurricane Vásquez.

Jennifer was surprised at how well she was coping with the long sprint. Her continued work outs and G37 were bearing fruit. Okay, her legs did burn as she rounded a corner. Cardio was hard to do in a cell, in the middle of the night. 


Finally, the storm chaser got closer, getting to the long corridor that led to the showers. She could hear shouting as she drew closer.

Upon entering she was greeted with the thud of knuckle on flesh. She'd made it just in time to see Vásquez punch a woman with a shaved head, sending her off of her feet and crashing into one of the toilet stalls. There was one woman collapsed against a wall, cracks around the epicentre of an impact above her head. She was slumped forwards, unconscious, leading Jennifer to believe Vásquez had probably driven the back of her head into said wall. Another two bodies were strewn across the floor, blood pooling around one of their head's.

She'd devistated four women in the time it took Jennifer to catch up. Two more were attacking her, swinging with homemade knives. The difference in reach meant Vásquez could gracefully flit backwards. It was oddly beautiful watching them fight. Like some macabre ballet of glinting metal and violence. Vásquez pivoted suddenly and swung a leg in a vicious, scythe like arch. It sledge hammered into one woman's ribs with an audible crack and sent her stumbling into the other woman. They were a tangle of limbs for a heartbeat. Enough for Vásquez to step forward and blast them to the floor with two thunderous strikes. Jennifer was amazed at the precision Vásquez used to dispatch the women. Every blow had been surgical, striking vitals. There were no wasted movements.

"Well, that was boring." Grumbled Vásquez, looking around for the other lobos. She noticed Jennifer in the door, "what are you doi-" her eyes moved upwards and Jennifer felt a prescene loom overhead.

"If that's so boring why not pick on someone.... Your own...." Hilda ducked beneath the doorway, her girth filing it and pushing Jennifer deeper into the bathroom. She'd finally gotten out of solitary confinement, ready to go get revenge on the woman who had put her there.

But that woman, the one she'd been looking down at from half a foot, was no longer the same. The differences in size had been switched. More than switched in fact. Vásquez seemed mountainous compared to Hilda, eight inches taller than her. Even Hilda's more rotund form couldn't give the illusion that she was bigger.

"Size?" Vásquez finished the sentence, just deepening the dumbfounded expression on Hilda's face.

Vásquez snatched Jennifer's wrist and pulled her deeper into the tiled square. She gave her a shove, pushing her into the changing room area and stepped in front of her. The bathroom space wasn't large. Four cubicals along one wall, about 10 foot of space and then a narrow doorway that leads to the changing rooms. Beyond that there was a similar sized space and the showers in a much larger area.

Jennifer couldn't help but marvel at how these two behemoths filled the small bathroom space. The space that should hold four or five people was crowded with just two.

"Y'know, it's gonna be hard to pick on someone my own size since, well, I don't think there is anyone." Vásquez said planting her hands on her hips, taking up even more room.

The cogs were turning in the blubbery woman's head. When she didn't have a witty retort she roared, "fuck you!" Her overly telegraphed lunge wasn't rewarded with a hit on her target.

Vásquez bobbed, weaving under the punch like a boxer. She went from fluid to solid in a moment, body turning rigid as she sprang back against the direction she'd been moving and unleashing a left hook that dug deep into Hilda's fat side.

It drilled through the padding and smashed against bone, making the woman's entire rib cage shake. She let out a wail similar to that of a wounded boar, and swung her own, wild left hook. Vásquez darted backwards and slid under that one too, delivering a straight, knocking the woman's head back hard.

In all the action Jennifer hadn't caught the movement in her peripheral vision. She hadn't seen Amber slinking out of a cubical with a shiv. This had been a trap all along. Hilda and Amber were the pair that would take Vásquez down. The other six had been a sacrificial distraction.

Vásquez would have seen Amber if she wasn't trying to keep Jennifer away from the action. She was making easy work out classing Hilda, untouchable as she landed combinations. Amber rushed forwards, aiming for her spine. Jennifer saw her seconds before impact. She tried to say something, do something but she felt like she was stuck moving in molasses while the world span around her. Some warrior sixth sense sent alarm bells ringing in Vásquez's head and she twisted her body at the last second, knife sinking into her side.

Blood bloomed like a rose around the wound and Jennifer heard a scream. The sound was forgein to her ears and it took a moment for her to realised she'd been the one screaming. A blow rocked Vásquez making her stagger, Hilda finally landing a hit. She grit her blood stained teeth and pressed her back to the sink lined wall.

Like this, the two aryans stopped and looked at one another. Vásquez was injured but clearly too much of a threat to attack head on. She shot them a grin. "What are you waiting for?" Even their surprise ambush hadn't worked.

A manic desperation gripped Amber, but began to loosen as she looked to Jennifer. A cruel smile split her face. She lunged and grabbed her, twisting her body around and putting the shiv to her throat.

Vásquez moved forwards, but Amber pulled back, dragging Jennifer with her. "Uh-uh!" She giggled, hauling Jennifer towards exit of the bathroom. To Jennifer's bewilderment Vásquez actually stopped. "Come closer and I paint the tiles red, bitch." Jennifer felt the blade bite into her flesh. It wasn't a bluff.

"Hey, Hilly. How about you go over there and work over that giant cunt? Oh, and if she fights back, I drain her little whore like a pig." Amber's laugh grated in Jennifer's head. She couldn't believe what was happening. She was a hostage being used against Vásquez. And somehow it was working.

Hilda charged forwards and kicked the towering latina in the stabbed side, knocking her against the wall. She rushed forwards clumsily swinging at Vásquez. And the titan just... Took it.

"Work the body!" Amber cackled, hyena like. "Get her in the stab!" Hilda listened and moved down to deliver a fist to the injury. Vásquez growled and leaned against a sink, refusing to fight back. Her eyes were glowing in the softly lit room, a fire behind them. "Oh-ho! I don't like that look, Hilly. Wipe it off of her face!"

Footsteps echoed down the corridor and Amber's head jerked up as she heard them. "Fuck. Hilly, we gotta go!" She shouted. But Hilda had Vásquez against the wall, choking her. She was too focused to hear about the need to retreat. "Hilly!" Amber tried again before giving up and pushing Jennifer into the bathroom, slipping away.

"I'm gonna.... Fucking murder that little bitch.... After you!" Hilda grunted, pouring gasoline onto an inferno that was already too big to control.  Vásquez's eyes glinted as she looked to Jennifer. Seeing Amber gone, she finally let loose.

A vicious punch to Hilda's side loosened her grip. Even in a savage fury, Vásquez was brutally efficient. She knew exactly where to punch to feel the crunch of Hilda's bottom two ribs. The second punch snapped Hilda's head to the side with a sickening velocity. Jennifer stepped back as teeth skittered across the tiles towards her. Maria and a handful of Lobos arrived only seconds after Amber left. Blood and teeth serenaded their entrance.

Hilda had followed the teeth, now on all fours, clawing at the tiles. An inhuman growl rattled through Vásquez as she launched off of the wall and buried her shin into Hilda's side. The kick actually lifted the fat woman from the ground and span her onto her back, shaking the cubicals as she bounced off of them. Jennifer had no doubt her ribcage was a jigsaw puzzle now.

Vásquez mounted her, straddling the giant aryan, and with her left hand, pinned her to the ground by the throat. With her right hand, she bludgeoned Hilda repeatedly, a roar bellowing out and rumbling the tiles. The punches were like artillery fire raining down. Vásquez was lost in the red mist. She wasn't stopping.

Jennifer looked to Maria and the lobos, who had no intention of stopping Vasquez. They were fucking laughing. Cheering.

Jennifer felt her stomach turn. She came to life, rushing forwards, wrapping her arms around Vásquez's right bicep and using her whole body to pull back. Three more blows landed before Vásquez shook Jennifer off.

"Stop!" She screeched, loud and long, throat feeling like sandpaper. The lobos grabbed her, pulling her away from Vásquez. But it had worked. It snapped the jaguar like woman out of her murderous haze and Vásquez looked toward her. Her piercing gaze transitioned to confusion and then a new anger.

"Stop?" She asked, letting go of Hilda and struggling to her feet. "They just tried to kill you and you want me to stop?" Vásquez stalked towards Jennifer, hands and side dripping with blood. Her vest was stained red from a mix of her and Hilda's blood.

"She's gonna die!" Jennifer cried.

"SHE SHOULD." The response made Jennifer's ears ring. "You're fucking ungrateful, you know that?!" A huge finger stabbed at the air towards her. "I just got turned into a punching bag for you and you want me to stop?" Vásquez rounded on Jennifer, looming larger and larger as she grew closer. The lobos held her tighter, not sure of what to do.

"You did what?" The voice sliced through the bathroom. All eyes turned to Maria. "You let yourself get beat up for this jue puta?! What are you, fucking stupid?" She asked tapping her own temple.

Vásquez bottled her anger, struggling to keep her voice controlled. "Maria, they had a shiv to her ne-"

"So fucking what!? She's just a piece on the fucking side. She's not worth you getting stabbed or... Or fucking anything! She's worthless!"

Vásquez looked appalled. "We're fucking lobos, Maria. You know what that means. We don't leave people behind. They stab us, we gut them. They kill one of ours" Vasquez slapped a hand to her chest to emphasise the point. She thrust her hand out, pointing through the walls of the bathroom. "They all die. It's how we fucking roll, Maria. " She actually sounded distraught.

"Yeah. Us. Not her. She's not a lobos, Andrea." Maria was speaking with her hands too now, pointing at the lobos and then Jennifer. "Her?! She's just some bitch YOU keep around! You should FUCKING DROP HER FOR THIS SHIT."

Vásquez squared up to Maria. Stood in front of her like this they may as well have been David and Goliath. She made Maria look miniscule.

"That's right. She's fucking mine. So I ain't letting some cracked out, white bitch kill her." She leaned down, bringing her face closer to the gang leader. "And I ain't letting you tell me what to do with her."

Inmates shifted nervously as everyone watched. Maria never wavered. She never flinched or stepped back. It was an immovable object and an unstoppable force colliding. "Are we going to have a problem, Andrea?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

There was no backing down. Eyes were glued to the two alpha females in the middle of the tiny space. Boots stomping on tile was deafening and somehow a relief. The energy in the room changed again. Guards flooded in wearing riot gear and piled onto the women. Batons came down hard as Vásquez and the lobos began to brawl. In the tiny box, it was chaos. Jennifer darted through the crowd, trying to avoid  the mess of bodies. She wasn't able to though. An elbow bashed her in the temple and the lights went out.

Her next memories came in murky bursts. She remembered the bathroom spinning as an irate Smith screamed at the guards. Vásquez was carted out, wearing zip ties instead of cuffs. Hilda was taken out next, draped over a gurney that was barely surviving the weight. Her chest was moving up and down. Jennifer remembered that even through her swampy senses.

Two hours later, she was sat in medbay with Smith, waiting for her next dose. Her head was buzzing but, overall, she was fine. She tried to make sense of her memories, piecing them together bit by bit. They'd been forced to use zip ties on Vásquez because she was too big for handcuffs. Smith had been barking at the guards in a very uncharacteristic way. Something about the trial being too important for this. Hilda had survived. At least until medical support arrived.

Jennifer gingerly brushed her temple, hissing at the pain that laced her nerves. She'd been fully conscious for the last 30 minutes, unsure of how to feel. It was her fault that Vásquez had been beaten and stabbed. If she'd just listened to what she said initially this wouldn't have happened. Or if she'd been brave enough to grab Amber.

Then there was the whole Vásquez, Maria shit storm that she was at the epicenter of. Maria saw her as nothing more than a discardable stress ball for Vásquez. Something that shouldn't get in the way of gang life. Vásquez saw her as a possession. Her own object that, if damaged, would slight her honour. Neither option could be considered a win.

Selina came into the room flanked by guards, olive skinned features looking pensive. "How is Vásquez?" She asked, eyes going from Smith to Jennifer, questioningly.

"She's fine. The minute she got into a bed she started demanding lunch and her protein shake." He tried to give a pleasant smile but his jaw clenching gave away the lingering  anger. His granite poker face was cracking.

"Yeah, I had a feeling that would be the case." Selina said with a tight lipped smile. She tried to mask the obvious worry but it shone through.

"Come on." He said waving the two of them to the ID controlled door.

The mood of the journey was sombre. Jennifer didn't keep track of the maze this time. What she did notice was Selina ahead of her. They'd been the same height. Now Selina was three inches taller. Great, another person bigger than her. With all the madness of the last week and a half, she felt hollow and hopeless. Even if she did grow you'd have psychos like Amber who weren't afraid to shiv you in the back. Fuck, she'd been trying to paralyse Vásquez... And  Jennifer had almost let her succeeded.

"If you don't show some signs of the treatment having an effect, this will be your last dose." Smith said as they went through the initial steps. Jennifer was too down already to let this impact her. She doubted anything would happen. This would be the last time she'd be stabbed by the needle, at least.

When they were in bed, hooked up to the purple chemical, a melodic, accented voice spoke. "You know, this isn't the first time she's been stabbed." Jennifer looked up at Selina, confused.

"What?"

"Vásquez."

"Yeah, I know who. Why are you telling me?"

"I thought that you look worried." Selina said, shrugging.

"I'm not worried about her." Jennifer spat back like an angry teen.

"Really? Your eyes are puffy." Jennifer was too proud to admit she'd been crying. However, even if she had been crying it wasn't for whatever reason Selina thought it was. Jennifer wasn't some worried girlfriend.

"Look, " the blonde sighed. " It was my fault. If I hadn't been there it wouldn't have happened that way. They got the drop on her because of me. Like, I feel guilty, but I'm not worried about her. Shit! I wish she was fucking dead." Jennifer realised it was a lie after it came out. What was wrong with her? She had every right to wish it was true but just couldn't. She battled with the realisation but reluctantly told herself it was just because she was a good person. She didn't really want anyone to die. Not even Hilda.... Right?

"I do not think that you mean that." Selina said, a motherly tone in her voice. It contrasted perfectly with Jennifer's ccurren, angsty mood. She bit back a sassy response and fixed her stare forwards. "I wasn't lying when I said I thought Vásquez likes you."

"What?!" Jennifer blurted, unable to hold her tongue. She sounded offended.

"A few weeks ag-"

"I know what you're talking about. What do you mean?"

Selina had her turn to sigh. "I've known Vásquez for a long, long time. Before we were here even. She likes you, trust me."

"Doesn't fucking seem like it." Jennifer said, incredulously.

"Well, no, probably not. But Vásquez does not work like other people."

"No shit, she's a psychopath. She doesn't like anyone. The only emotion I've ever seen from her is anger." Jennifer had angrily parodied Selina's accent as she said like. 

"She is not a psycho." Selina was more forceful with that statement. For the first time ever Selina seemed frustrated. "You... You do not understand what made her."

"What does that mean?"

"Where she grew up, life is not easy." Jennifer wondered how she knew any of this. The enigma of a woman had always been mysterious but this could never have been expected.

"How do you know Vásquez so well? You're K13, how do you even get to interact with Vásquez." Jennifer thought back to the conversation with Trish. Rival gang members didn't get to be friends.

"Who said I was K13?" Scoffed Selina. Across the room, Smith's ears perked up. Even he'd thought she was a part of the cartel backed gang. "I am a smuggler. I don't work with one gang. I have ties to K13 but I also have ties to Lobos, columbians, Russians, nation, the niners and yes, even the aryans. I get what people need where they need it."

"Aryans?" Jennifer couldn't stop the edge in her voice after what had happened in the bathroom.

"If they pay, they pay. I can always increase the price for asshole." Selina winked, like this was a regular topic people joked about.

Jennifer looked up at the half empty IV bag. She'd need to fit a lot of talking into a short amount of time. "Okay, so Vásquez had a shit childhood. Big whoop. All the people in here did."

"Not everyone had to kill before being a teen." Well fuck, that answered some questions. "I met her when she was already in the gang. She grew up on the streets, with no one. The gang kept her alive." Selina leaned forwards now, a huge smile on her face. "Do you know they used to call her bean pole? Because she was so tall and skinny?"

Jennifer could actually feel her brain slowing down. Bean pole. Vásquez. After all the insanity of the day she just - she just couldn't right now.

Selina read Jennifer's expression and continued. "Yeah! Don't be fooled by what she looks like now, Vásquez had a hard time putting on any weight. She'd eat and eat and eat and still be a stick. There's a reason she works out as much as she does."

Jennifer needed to change topic or her brain would start to melt out of her ears. "Alright, whatever. Why do you think she likes me?"

Selina let out a short chortle of a laugh. "Seriously? Apparently, she just got beaten down by a 6'10 Nazi for you."

"How the fu-"

"I trade with people. Secrets. Goods. Money. They're interchangeable." She waved a hand dismissively. It was dawning on Jennifer that Selina was far more than she let on. She was truly something different compared to the usual prison residents.

Jennifer thought back to the bathroom argument with Maria. She thought up a counter, clutching to the idea that Vásquez saw her as nothing more than a toy. "No. She... She said I'm hers. I'm an object to her. I'm disposable."

Selina tutted. "You don't get it. Maybe Maria sees it that way, but Vásquez only cares about the gang. Maria uses people like tools to get money and power. Even Vásquez knows she is just a tool for Maria. But money, power, they mean nothing to Vásquez. The gang gave her a home. They gave her a life. She would have died on the streets if they did not take her in. For her, loyalty is the most important thing in the world. It does not matter what she calls you. She likes you and that means you are the opposite of disposable."

Jennifer pondered on this, mind racing through every interaction she'd had with Vásquez. She still couldn't come to terms with the idea that Vásquez saw her as something more than a breakable toy. She hypothetically ran with the thought though. If Vásquez did... That situation could be even more dangerous. Jennifer didn't want to be in some warped, abusive relationship with Vásquez. And if she pulled away how would she take it? A shiver ran through Jennifer. What if she found out about Trish? "What if I did something that Vásquez saw as a betrayal?"

Selina's eyebrows rose. Her half lidded eyes always made her look tired. That's why many people had erroneously written off Selina's intelligence. Right now Jennifer could see those eyes calculating. She was trying to work out why Jennifer would ask that question. She pouted in thought and then gave an answer. "She would kill you. It would be personal so it would be extremely painful."

That was a disturbing statement. How can Selina argue she isn't a psychopath and still give that answer? "Thanks for the explanation." Jennifer replied, glumly, sinking down the bed.

"You're welcome!" Selina said cheerfully.

The quiet in the room returned and Jennifer checked to see how empty her IV bag was. Almost done now. Almost done and then she could close this bizarre chapter of her life and go back to being Vásquez's bitch.

Selina gave a little "hmmmphf!" Her eyes had screwed shut and she looked like she was in a slight discomfort. Her fingers bunched into fists and she shook a little. It looked like some invisible person was pinching her. Jennifer didn't understand what was going on until the growth actually started.

The response to the chemical was subdued for Selina. Slow and steady she stretched up and out just a little. Then she opened her eyes and relaxed, a half inch bigger than before. "That was the most Selina thing I've ever seen." Jennifer said shaking her head. The difference in reaction to the chemical was ridiculous.

No one waited for Jennifer to have a reaction. All attention was on Selina. It irked Jennifer. A streak of jealousy ran through her and again, negative  thoughts plagued the tiny blonde. This was it. Another dream dead. Another shitty draw from the deck that left her in a terrible position. She couldn't run. She couldn't fight. She couldn't do anything. Just like in the bathroom. She was just helplessly frozen in time while the world stepped on her. The mafia. The justice system. The gangs. The bullies. The beatings. Vásquez. Amber. Now this? That one ray of hope snuffed out? A hot rage began to bubble and boil beneath the surface.

Jennifer's heart thudded harder and harder in her chest. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lash out and break something. She wanted to explode.

Jennifer gasped. Her chest constricted, lungs crushed by.... Something. A fire burned through her veins. Not fire. Magma. Jennifer let out a strangled cry as she tried to move but found her body contorted and rigid. She felt like her nerves were shorting out, electronics with a voltage too high running through them. She tried to scream but only a wheeze came out. The room was twirling around the bed she was strapped to and static began invading her vision. A jackhammer pain emerged on her temple and she grit her teeth. She wanted to breath. She wanted fresh, cold air in her lungs but her diaphragm had succeeded, going rogue and disobeying her most basal instincts. The burning welled up. Too much. This was too much. Something was wrong.

What a twist of fate it would be. To roll snake eyes and be killed by G37 instead of growing. How fucking pathetic. It hardened Jennifer's determination into titanium. No. Not this time. Vásquez didn't give up. She didn't give in to the pain. Nor did Trish.

Nor. Would. She. Delicate, slender, pale fingers clenched into an angry fist, knuckles turning alabaster. Jennifer's eyes sparkled like emeralds. The inhale started slow but picked up speed. The air almost whistled through her teeth as she watched her chest exapand with oxygen. Spittle flew as Jennifer exhaled a throaty growl.

Through the hot, burning pain she focused on another sensation. Of bones shifting. Teeth grinding. Clothes tightening. Growth.

Jennifer's spine lengthened, vertebrae popping and clicking as they stretched further apart. Like she'd been curled into a ball for hours and was finally stretching. Stretching endlessly. Her feet grew distant as her legs stretched too. It was happening. It was finally happening to her!

It was surreal. She was moving without moving. The bed subtly shrank around her, restraints creaking, wrists widening and muscles on her forearms swelling. Jennifer could feel the mattress under her depressing around her spreading weight. She could feel her ass pushing against the springs. The glutes that had burned when she went through squats in her cell were now singing, the muscles thickening. Her legs and hips followed suit. The railings on the side of the bed grew closer as Jennifer flourished.

Her overalls unravelled around her, the baggy material filling. The rough fabric pulled taunt, lines forming as the material was stressed by the flesh inside of it. It was delightfully odd. Like putting on clothes too small and then trying pop the buttons by puffing up. But she wasn't trying to and it was her entire body shoving out.

Jennifer looked to her feet ploughing outwards, filling her plimsolls, forcing her toes to bend. God, this was amazing. Through the nerve shattering pain it was somehow blissful.

Jennifer wanted more. She wanted to be bigger. Craved it. She wanted her shoes and clothes to burst. More. More of her. She flexed every fiber of her being, begging for more.

She watched eagerly as the plimsolls began to struggle, the canvas material stretching and becoming lighter around her toes.

Just one stitch. One pop. One. More.... Millimeter.

Then it stopped.

Jennifer sank in the bed, breathing hard. "Fuck!" She shouted. She'd been so close. She looked up to see surprised faces. That annoyed her a little. Why were they so surprised? Didn't they expect her to grow too?

The nurses rushed over to unhook Jennifer. When they did she tried to hop out of bed. Her feet smacked the floor and she swayed a little. Vertigo hit her, her body and brain finally meshing to agree on what had just happened.

When she regained her balance Jennifer looked to Selina, stood opposite her. She looked down into her eyes. Selina was smiling up at her, a half inch shorter.

Jennifer had grown a full 4 inches.  Now the surprise made sense.

"You frog leaped me!" Selina said gleefully.

"Leap frogged." Jennifer replied, her own smile growing wider. "I'm taller than you. I'm.... Fuck."

A tiny nurse stepped forward and offered a hand. "Are you experiencing vertigo?" It was her nurse. The one Vásquez had lifted up like a doll. The nurse that had initially been assigned to her. Vásquez's wonderment made sense now. This poor nurse was the measuring stick for everyone after their growth.

Jennifer beamed down at her and wrapped her up in a hug. The guards moved forwards so Jennifer was forced to cut it short with a quick squeeze. "No, no. I'm fine. The vertigo passed." The nurse looked a touch surprised but the corners of her eyes, under the mask,  told Jennifer she was smiling back. This was one of the more pleasant interactions she'd had here.

Jennifer slipped the ID card into her waistband. She'd have to transition it into her new clothes discreetly.

Chapter 7: G37 trial - Week 5 part 2 by Kokoji

Jennifer was blown away by her new size and shape. She'd gone from short to above average in one jump. Looking down at a few of the nurses that she'd previously been looking up at brought a grin to her face. There were more cautious stares around her, nurses worried she was more capable of causing an incident. That ability to intimidate sent a flutter through her stomach. Jennifer didn't actually do anything malicious, of course, she was far too focused on drinking every detail in instead. But just the implication that she could do something like that gave her a thrill. Even Smith didn't look so scary when he was only a few inches larger.

It wasn't just her height. Her whole body had magnified and changed. Her shoulders had broadened, muscle deepening her torso and giving some thickness to her limbs. Her curves had expanded slightly too. It was impossible in a perfect way. Jennifer was beyond giddy when she'd stepped on the scale and saw the numbers shoot up to 167lbs. Reading that number almost brought the vertigo back. It's needless to say she had a very enthusiastic, exploratory shower as soon as she got back to the main prison.

The nurses said her growth spurt was tied for the largest on record with Vásquez.  When she'd heard that, tingles had run through Jennifer's spine, questions surfacing in her mind. Could she maybe catch up to her? Flashes of her rivalling Vásquez in size sprang forth. Eye to eye, bust to bust. Could she fight back?

Now, with a more rational mind, she doubted her fantastical ideas. Even at the same size there was no way Jennifer could take down Vásquez. It would be stupid to even try. The woman was a brick shit house and had abundant experience turning people into pulp.

She thumbed the ID card as she thought about it, waiting for Trish, sat in the library. 'It's best not to count eggs before they hatch', Jennifer thought. This was just the beginning, after all. That purple crap was too unpredictable to get her hopes too high. It was better to focus on the added size she'd already recieved and be happy in the present instead of looking to hypothetical futures. Having said that, the fact that she'd eeked out an extra inch over night meant she held some hope for more.

Jennifer looked to the area where the missing desk had been. The desk had been replaced, but the area felt irreversibly corrupted. That had been her desk and her area but now it was something else. She slipped off the table she was sat on (she would have hopped off before the growth) and strolled over. She stood where Vásquez had stood, leaning on the bookshelf, and tried to mentally measure up against her. Still far, far shorter.

Since the fight in the bathroom Vásquez had been held in the secret wing of the prison, away from everyone and, presumably, sat in a hospital bed.

Jennifer still felt guilty. She reasoned that if she'd consciously decided not to help she'd feel less guilty. It was the fact that she'd just frozen up. She was useless, just watching as Vásquez was stabbed by an even more vile person.

Wait, what?


Had she really just thought that to herself? Grading levels of evil and not having Vásquez at the top of the leader board felt dirty. 'I guess being evil, crazy and racist does take the cake.' Jennifer thought. That or Selina had fucked with her head.

Beanpole.

Never in her wildest dreams would she imagine that adjective applicable to Vásquez.


Trish darted through the bookcases, glancing over her shoulder. When she sighted Jennifer, lost in thought at the desk, she actually had to do a double take. Then a smile formed. She jumped forwards, wrapping arms around Jennifer and pulling her backwards into her own chest. "You grew?!" She half whispered, half spoke into Jennifer's ear.

Jennifer had jumped when the embrace wrapped around her, but quickly melted against Trish. Even though they'd only been friends (and now more than friends) for a short while she felt overwhelmingly close to her. Trauma makes the heart grow fonder? Something like that.

Trish released her and Jennifer hopped forwards, doing a dramatic twirl. She nodded hard enough to send her hair into her face. Tucking blonde lockes behind her ears she replied, "5 inches in 24 hours!" She couldn't contain her excitement, exclaiming too loud.

Trish shushed her, laughing. "Shit,  five inches? Maybe you'll catch up to me soon." Trish's growth rate had been almost as fast as Vásquez's initially, but had slowed. Trish still stood at a staggering 6'4 now. She could have easily fit into an Olympic volleyball or basketball team. Considering the firepower she held in her lower body, Jennifer would wager she could dunk on anyone. Hell, she could probably leap clean over her. The world around both ladies had dwindled but together, things just felt right.

Jennifer hugged Trish, rocking onto tip toes and pushing a kiss to her lips. Then she peppered her neck, tracing a little line down to her shoulder, where she returned to being flat footed.

Trish's face glowed with a subtle rose hue. She lent down and returned the gesture, simultaneously cupping Jennifer's butt and giving it a squeeze. "Oh, someone's getting some meat on her bones?" Trish asked with a deviant smile.

"Not as much as you." Jennifer slapped the thick rump Trish was hiding and sank her fingers into the curves. "Jesus, what are you squatting now?"

"More than you weight." She  hooked her arms around Jennifer's hips and effortlessly stood, lifting her up. They both descended into giggles, the prison around them fading away.

Like this, eye to eye, it was easier to make out. To bind together by the lips and let their tongues interwine. Trish let out a pleasure laced hum of excitement, biting Jennifer's lip before breaking the kiss. But Jennifer pushed forwards, reigniting things with more kissing. Her hands wandered across Trish, squeezing and groping through clothes. Trish span and pinned the blonde to a bookshelf, hips gyrating into her. It took her a while to regain her senses and break away from the succubus blonde.

She let Jennifer down against the bookshelf and kept her at arms length. "Hey, don't get me too worked up! It's not like we can have fun here." She laughed, looking over her shoulder.

Jennifer gave a disappointed pout but relented. "Fine, fine. So why did you call me here if it wasn't to jump my bones?" She'd been summoned by Trish via a note from Rachel this morning.

"Well, first I wanted to check you out after all of..." She gestured up and down Jennifer's body, "this. Congratulations on joining the weird science experiment group." She gave a half smile, clearly building up to something else.

"And the bad news?" Jennifer asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I, uh, wanted to give you a heads up." She paused, tone dipping as she did. "I heard Maria is kind of pissed with you."


Jennifer's smile disappeared. "Yeah, I guessed as much after yesterday."

"I think it's worse than just that, Jen. There's a lot of chatter. She wants to... Um.... Get rid of you." Jennifer's pale face paled further. "Just, stay away from Lobos for a bit, okay?"

"That's difficult considering they're everywhere. C-can't you and the nation help me out?"

"I wish I could, Jen. I really do." Trish sighed and peeked around a book case. "No one knows what Vásquez is gonna do when she gets back, so nobody wants to get involved. Only thing I can do is hit the showers at the same time as you. Lobos won't try anything if nation are in there too." That made Jennifer's eyebrows soar into her hairline. "Okay, keep it in your pants. Potentially life or death situation and all you can think about is this?" Trish chided, gesturing to herself.


Jennifer grinned, "it is a lot to appreciate."

Trish rolled her eyes. "True. But keep your game face on!" She delivered a little punch to the arm. Jennifer felt proud that she hardly moved. That would have surely had more of an impact if she'd done it to her yesterday.


"Alright, I'll be careful and stick to places with guards, okay?"

"Good. Anyway, we better go. I need to meet with Candice before her lunch finishes."

"Wait! I had something I wanted to talk about too!" Jennifer hissed, suddenly far more conscious of her surroundings. She checked behind the closest book shelf and then turned back to Trish. Wordlessly, she pulled up the hem of her top and slipped an ID card out of her waistband.

Trish's eyes went wide." What the fuck!?... What the fuuuuuck!?" Her vocabulary had been cut down by shock. "What... Why do you have that? How do you have that?"

Jennifer looked smugly at her companion. "Trish, I'm in here because I'm a theif. A good one."

"Can't have been that good or you wouldn't be in here!"

"Hey! My partners set me up!"

Trish held up a hand, "you know what, we ain't gettin' into that. Why did you steal it? Are you gonna try and break out?"

"No! You didn't let me finish explaining." They'd been whisper arguing this whole time, so Jennifer took a breath, calming down. "Last week one of the guards took me the wrong way. He led me to some huge room where they make that purple shit."

"Whooaaa, they're manufacturing it here?"

"Yeah! Tons of the stuff! The prison must have some contract with whoever Smith works for."

Trish connected the dots. "Wait, did you steal this so you could get to that stuff?"

"Well, yeah...." Jennifer said sheepishly. From Trish's tone she didn't seem too impressed.

"Jen, that's a real bad idea. What are you even gonna do with it? Sell it?"

"Trish, I'd take it." Trish was speechless after this revelation. "Look, you just said it yourself, Maria is pissed at me, Vásquez is using me as her bitch and... I'm not like you. I'm not strong. I can't fight. I...." Emotions began to well up now. "I'm surprised I've survived here for this long." Jennifer's gaze had dropped to the ground.

A mahogany set of fingers cupped her chin and pulled her gaze back up. "Hey, I know it's been tough for you. But this just seems like a really bad idea." Trish sighed. "It's an experimental drug from the government. We don't really know what it's doing to us. If I could get out of this trial I would. Just... Just wait, okay? I gotta go but we can talk more about this later." She had a sorrowful expression as she kissed Jennifer on the forehead.

It was hard watching Trish go. Being confined to the same building but forced to stay apart left a terrible ache in Jennifer. She couldn't even have a full conversation with her. She bit back the sadness and sagged onto a desk, starting the count to 300. As the count steadily climbed, a paranoia began to flare alongside it. She got the odd feeling that she was being watched, even though she'd been obsessively checking for someone else in the library constantly.

She didn't reach 300, instead choosing to scuttle out of the secluded area quickly. She told herself she was being silly but couldn't shake the feeling. Trish's warning had maybe been a bit too effective.

Jennifer debated where to go in the prison. Normally there wouldn't be this much choice, but being a part of the trial meant she and the others could choose when to have lunch instead of having her time slot alloted by prisoner number.

Yard or canteen were the obvious choices for crowded spots but both areas would be crawling with Lobos. Jennifer's stomach let out an angry gurgle. Since growing her appetite had increased threefold. It was a pleasant feeling, needing to eat more. She felt like she'd shed her previous difficulties gaining weight. The fact that she was starving, eased the decision making crisis. She wanted to maximise her ability to hit the set target calories. Without Vásquez she could stick to her diet instead of having her food taxed by the giant bitch. Considering Vásquez's return could happen at any time, eating sooner rather than later was a smart move.

Sun cascaded in through the safety glass windows, high up on the walls. Many of the rooms in the prison were built with high ceilings, but the canteen was huge. A gang rail high up on the walls, near the windows, meant guards could keep a birds eye view on prisoners.

Jennifer shielded her eyes, looking up and trying to make out who was stood up on the metallic walkway. She couldn't tell who exactly it was but was surprised to find only one person. The guards took watch in pairs. At this time of day four or six guards wouldn't be uncommon.

She felt that paranoia creeping up on her again but batted it away mentally. Lunch was winding down, so they would have less guards up there. It made sense. Stop freaking out. She walked across the large room and joined the short line for food.

Ahead of her she could hear two K13 members talking in hushed tones. Something about the Aryans and Vásquez. How the Aryans were on their last legs after their attempt at Lobos. The Lobos were hunting anyone in the gang, especially Amber.

Jennifer looked around then, wondering just where Amber would be. She hadn't seen the wild eyed woman since she'd been her hostage. Goosebumps erupted along Jennifer's arms as she thought about it. If she thought for too long she could feel the blade on her throat.

Could she better fight Amber off now that she was closer to her size? It was a comforting thought but Amber felt too insane to attempt fighting with her.

Looking at the K13 members, Jennifer remembered her altercation early last week. She panned across the canteen, looking for the woman that had hit her with a tray. She might actually be bigger than her now. Her eyes lingered on Maria's table. There wasn't anyone there, but some Lobos were scattered around the other tables in that area. Everyone became an orange blur at a distance though.

"I dunno, we might have to make a truce or something with Lobos." Jennifer's ears twitched. That was new. K13 and Lobos had been warring for so long that the idea of them having a truce was outlandish.

"Fuck that!"

"No, man, think about it. What if the Nation bitch and that Niner get as big as Vásquez. Or bigger. Those two gangs have been tight for a long time. It's gonna be a fucking problem."


"So what? Two giant putas can't take us all. We got numbers."

"You heard what Vásquez did to the aryans. Like, seven women got put down, man. Hilda is a fucking vegetable!" That made Jennifer's stomach turn. Was that true? She knew she was in the infirmary but she hadn't heard much else. "The fights in here are small. You ever heard of a fight in here with more than ten people?"

This clearly provoked some thought as the other lady took her time before answering. "No. But they ain't Vásquez tho, are they? She's been king bitch since day one. Four of us with shanks can take down two big bitches, easy."

"I dunno. If shit keeps popping off, there's gonna be some big changes. Us and the aryans are the only ones without one of those red bitches." Jennifer felt a bolt of worry strike. A self consciousness developed. The trial had brought turmoil in the prison but she hadn't known it was creating a stigma around the six women. It was only logical though, they were receiving different treatment in the system and they were becoming weapons in a huge game of prison chess.

The line moved forwards and the two ladies went to pick food, continuing their talk out of ear shot. Jennifer picked up a tray, delaying her approach so the K13 inmates could get more distance.

As she waited she noticed something. Something off. Orange shapes moving in a way that just didn't mesh with the surroundings.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood. Four shapes moved through the canteen tables against the field of orange. The Lobos lived up to their name, stalking like wolves in the long grasses. They moved with a singular purpose that no one else in the canteen had.

Jennifer put down her tray and stiffly began walking towards the exit of the canteen. She held her gaze on the four until footsteps ahead got her attention.

It was Scar. "Hey, where you going? We wanted to talk." If Jennifer wasn't already on edge she might not have noticed the threatening undertones of her voice. There was a glint of metal in the sunlight and time ground to a halt. Jennifer was frozen again. Frozen like a deer in the headlights.

This time she refused to be caught like this. Helpless.

Jennifer snapped back to reality, lashing a desperate kick forwards. Even she was surprised with just how fast her leg rose and whipped out. The kick caught Alvarez in the chest hard. She'd been expecting this to be easy, underestimating any resistance from Jennifer. That in addition to the added size and power meant Scar was snatched off of her feet, crashing backwards through the canteen doors. It would be an understatement to say that she was shocked. Jennifer herself was in awe. Awe of her own strength.

Rapid footsteps behind her signalled she couldn't revel in her mini victory. She needed to run. Now. Jennifer charged out, leaping over a swearing, Alvarez and speeding through the corridors while wolves chased her.

She ran, instincts navigating her instead of anything conscious.   She didn't have anywhere safe. She snaked through corridors, passed cells and through to the one place her subconscious mind knew they couldn't follow. Medbay.

When her conscious mind caught up to the subconscious she pulled the ID card free. It was the one place they couldn't follow. Sure, it would mean getting caught with the card but it was preferable to being murdered.

Jennifer passed a set of guards that shouted something at her. She couldn't make it out over her own heartbeat, but assumed they wanted her to stop. They didn't pursue her, probably too preoccupied with the murderous pack heading towards them instead.

The brakes were hit when she burst into medbay. A quick sleight of hand came as second nature to hide the ID card. To keep it hidden from Smith who was stood before the puffed out blonde.

"Jennifer." He nodded, brow furrowed. "I'd just sent some guards to find you."

Jennifer tried to slow her breathing and look like she wasn't frantically avoiding multiple stab wounds. "W-why?" She asked, worried. Did he know about the ID?

"Vásquez has requested your company."

Oh, fuck. Jennifer's stomach did a flip. She hadn't though that she'd be dealing with Vásquez again so soon. She was bed ridden, right? This wasn't some tit for tat ploy to enact revenge for letting her get stabbed.... Was it?

A cold sensation washed over Jennifer. "U-um. C-can she do that? Just request me?"

"She's been quite insistent. She mentioned something about your safety potentially being in danger. I've been monitoring the CCTV and saw she might be right."

Her mouth opened but then wordlessly flapped back closed. Smith having access to the CCTV system was entirely unexpected. Had he seen her and Trish going into the library? They entered and exited separately but he wasn't stupid. She didn't get a chance to enquire and he didn't elaborate any further. Smith beeped his ID pass and nodded for her to enter.

'We were in a CCTV dead spot. There's no way he saw the ID.' Jennifer kept repeating in her head. She bit the inside of her cheek, maintaining her own poker face as she stepped through the threshold. For now she had to put a pin in those thoughts. The more pressing matter was Vásquez.

They turned off from the beaten path quickly, straight into new territory on this side of the wing. About four weeks ago, Jennifer had been convinced this side was a mirror image of the prison where the inmates were. That idea was proven more and more wrong with every new exploration. It appeared whoever made this part of the prison had purposefully planned it to be confusing. It must have been recently added to the building. The lack of cracks in the tiles, the missing scent of mould and overall cleanliness strengthened that hypothesis.

Every time she walked these halls there were more questions.

"We moved Vásquez to the infirmary, but right now she's in a staff only area. We wanted to maintain the trial's parameters as closely as possible so we're happy to give her some free reign." Smith said, swiping his ID on a reader. Jennifer was about to ask what he meant when she saw where they were. The question became redundant.

It was a gym. A well equipped, empty gym. Empty apart from two people. A guard at the door and the huge form using one of the machines.

So much for being bed ridden.

Less than 24 hours after being stabbed Vásquez was using the angled leg press. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a sports bra, a huge bandage over her stabbed side. Jennifer let her eyes dwell on her. That was a lot of extra skin. Extra skin that would have been a tantalising temptation if Jennifer wasn't so nervous.

"Don't strain yourself too much." Smith said.

"I'm not. I'm fine." Was all Vásquez replied with. Jennifer didn't see how that was possible considering she was lifting a few hundred pounds of weight.... With one leg.

"If you reopen your stitches again nurse Doe is going to be very upset."

Vásquez shot him a look. "What? Is she not paid by the hour or something?"

A muscle in Smith's jaw twitched. "You will not be stitched back up again. If it opens, it opens." He said before turning on his heels. "Don't do anything stupid. We'll be watching." Jennifer, unlike Vásquez, took his warning seriously. She nodded rapidly.

He left her with the Vásquez. "Hey, blondie." She switched legs, not even acknowledging Jennifer with a look.

"Um... Hey."

"Maria try something yet?"

"Yeah. Alvarez and some other Lobos came after me in the canteen."

Vásquez laughed. "Wow. What a pussy. I can't believe she tried to scare you straight." Jennifer was apprehensive about engaging with Vásquez. Uncertainty clouded her motives for calling her here, but Jennifer needed to know what was going on.

"What do you mean scare me? They had knives."

Vásquez racked the weight and pulled on a handle. For the first time she turned to Jennifer. "She tried to get you stabbed by a whole group of women in the middle of the day, right?"

"Y-yeah...."

"If she wanted you dead, your cell would open in the middle of the night and one woman would have killed you. This was just bullshit scare tactics, trying to send a statement to you and the other gangs."

"So they weren't going to stab me?"

"Hmmmm, no, they would have stabbed you. They wouldn't have killed you." Jennifer didn't feel reassured by this correction. "That's why I told baldilocks to go get you." She took a moment to flip off a camera in the corner of the room. "Because if she didn't send Alvarez in the day, she would have sent her at night." Jennifer felt light headed. "Chill, I'll talk to her."

Vásquez stood up and stretched. For the first time Jennifer got to compare her new size against Vásquez. She wasn't bellybutton height anymore but she still had to angle her head up slightly to look at her boobs. She'd grown more but Jennifer's growth spurt had been bigger. Vásquez looked down at Jennifer and made a face. A knot twisted in Jennifer's stomach. "Did you grow?" She asked. Jennifer gave a shallow, affirmative nod. Vásquez huffed, "that bald bitch better find a bed big enough so I can get another dose." Then walked passed to a plate loading hamstring curl.

That was it?

Jennifer hurried behind the large woman. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" Vásquez nonchalantly replied, sliding plates onto the machine.

"Because.... You got stabbed because of me."

Vásquez laughed again. It was uncanny how she could brush off a murder attempt as if she'd just stubbed her toe. "That shiv was smaller than Jackson's dick. If Amber wants to kill me she's gonna need a fucking tank."

She stepped onto the machine, back to Jennifer as she started working out. Bent at the hip over a cushioned part of the machine, Vásquez's hips and ass seem even wider. Her hands gripped cold metal as she hooked her ankle around the weight and began lifting. Gargantuan bundles of hamstring swelled with each curl, the weights clinking together at the top and bottom of every repetition.

"Still, you got stabbed because of me and then beat up by Hilda." Jennifer continued, guilt making her voice small.

"Look, blondie. I've been stabbed before. I've been beaten worse too. It's not a big deal. You don't fight." Her voice grew grim. "It's my job to fight. Shit happens."

The knot in Jennifer's stomach eased but something else replaced it. A defiant, indignant anger. "Why?" Jennifer asked, voice louder and bigger now.

"Why what?"

"Why aren't you mad? Would you be mad if I was Lobos?" Jennifer continued, volume growing alongside the anger she was whipping herself up into. "You think I'm fucking pathetic, don't you?"

Vásquez stopped pumping out reps and dropped the weight. She stood straight, peering over her shoulder at Jennifer. The blonde did her best not to shrink away under her eyes. "Don't try to be something you're not, blondie. It'll get you killed."

"What and you were always this?" Jennifer waved her hand up and down. She was on a roll, words tumbling out faster than her brain could keep up. "Maria's fucking lapdog. You've always been some... some unstoppable cunt?" Vásquez just watched over her shoulder, unphased and maybe even a little impressed. The words so far had been ineffective against her thick skin. "You weren't ever a skinny, weak, beanpole?" The last word dripped with venom. Vásquez's eyes glinted at the name. That one did it.

"Fucking Selina." She grumbled, stepping off of the machine and looming over Jennifer. A hand shot out faster than lightning, clamping over the lower half of Jennifer's face, thumb digging into one cheek as fingers dug into the other.

"Hey!" shouted the guard, a hand darting to his belt as he walked towards the two.

"Don't ever call me that again, blondie." She growled from far above, any bravado seeping out of Jennifer. Vásquez shoved hard, sending her tumbling into a chest press machine. As the guard got closer he slowed. Vásquez's glare stopped him completely. "You are pathetic." She spat down at the crumpled blonde woman. Jennifer struggled to right herself when a moist, bare foot stomped her down. It came again, this time slapping to Jennifer's face, pinning her to the ground.

Jennifer's humiliation was replaced by panic as the pressure increased and toes curled around her scalp. "Or are you gonna prove me wrong?" Vásquez boomed. Jennifer pushed at the foot, clawing at it, struggling frantically. The pressure increased more as Vásquez pressed more weight down on her. "All I do is fucking train. Train, eat, fight. That's it. For years. You think a few extra inches and a month of working out is gonna change you?"

Vásquez's foot was crushing Jennifer's head, squeezing thoughts out like juice from an orange. Somehow one bizarre question survived long enough to be remembered. How did Vásquez know she'd been working out? The pressure increased more and Jennifer felt as if her eyes would pop from her skull. Her whole head could pop like a water balloon at any moment. She let out a squeaky, stuttered apology. "I'm sorry. I... I-"

Then it stopped. Vásquez let up and stepped back, an exhale rattling out of her. Jennifer scrambled up the machine, getting back to her feet as quickly as possible. She'd been worried there was more abuse coming. But Vásquez was just stood there, an odd look on her face. The guard had a taser in his hand, one finger pushed to an ear piece. Smith must have been relaying orders.

The latina paid him no mind though. While angry, she looked in control. She chewed her lip, mulling some thought over in her head. "Fuck it. Fine. Come and hit me." Jennifer was perplexed by the situation taking a 180. "I won't hit you back. Come and give me a free shot." Jennifer didn't move. This had to be some kind of trap or game.

Patience wasn't Vásquez's strongest virtue. "If you don't hit me - like really hit me, I'm gonna fuck you up." Vásquez laid down the statement, letting it settle in the room, before continuing. "Ten... Nine... Eight..." Jennifer panicked as the count grew lower.

She bundled up her courage and charged. She had no form. She had no sense for combat. She just rushed forwards and swung a limp noodle at the wall of latina. It ricocheted off of her sweat drenched sports bra. "Wow." Was all it elicited from Vásquez. "See what I mean?" She let out a wry laugh. "What the fuck was that? You get one shot to get aaaaaallll the revenge you want and you can't throw a punch. You're not a fighter blondie." Vásquez pointed to the bandages that had, at some point, begun turning red. "You have a fucking bulls eye and you punch me in the tit." She scoffed. "Why would I be mad at you for freezing up when Amber came at you with a knife?" She went back to the hamstring curl, shaking her head. "Oh, and not that it's any of your fucking business, but I don't get mad at green Lobos for freezing up either. It happens the first time."

Vásquez left Jennifer there on the floor. She left her there wallowing in a depressed, worthless heap. All the extra size she'd wished for felt wasted on her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Did you freeze up the first time?"

"No." Came the response. It could have been bragging, but there wasn't a shred of pride behind the answer. "Stop moping and go lift some weights. We're not going to get to use this gym for long." Jennifer looked around at the landscape of fitness orientated machines and weights. She was right. This was a window of opportunity she wouldn't get again.

She wiped the grime of the sweaty footprint from her face, hauled herself up and got to work.

They stayed silently apart for a while. It was only a few hours later that they shared more than a handful of words. Jennifer was tired and sore, body aching after the first time working out with weights. It was different to body weight workouts. You were able to push yourself in entirely new ways.

They'd showered separately and were eating, sat in a smaller, cleaner canteen. Jennifer had been doing her best not to talk, scared to incur the wrath of the giant. But something had been niggling in the back of her brain since their interaction earlier.

"How did you know I was working out?" She blurted.

Vásquez was busy inhaling chilli when the question was asked. She was hunched over the table, arms akimbo, protecting a cauldron like pot as if she were a bear. She'd devoured her bowl in seconds and dragged the entire pot over earlier.

Her still wet hair looked even darker like this, hanging down over her face. She had switched to another sports bra instead of a vest. The huge elastic and fabric contraption left her bandages able to breath. It also left her abs, food baby and skull tattoos on show. She gulped down a mouthful and answered. "Was pretty obvious looking at you. Plus when you weighed in at 124lbs you basically danced off the scales." She went back to munching down copious amount of food.

Jennifer, on the other hand, had stopped eating. Staring into the bowl of meat and beans, she blinked rapidly. 124. 124lbs. That was her exact weight that week. Jennifer had scorched it into her memory. It had been a big moment for her. A milestone, an achievement, something that she had good reason to remember. Why had Vásquez even been paying attention, let alone remember it? The blonde tried to be nonchalant as she probed further. "Yeah, I was happy seeing the number so high. Do you remember how much you weighed that week?"

"I dunno. Probably around 300?" Vásquez mumbled it around a mouthful of food.

"You remember my weight but not yours?" Jennifer hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Vásquez audibly swallowed. She was quick on her feet with a response. "Hard to keep track when I keep growing." She shrugged. It had been a quick response, but not quick enough. She'd paused. She'd had to think up an excuse.

Jennifer's pulse pounded in her ears. She nodded and went back to slowly eating, but her appetite was dead. Selina was right. Vásquez had feelings for her. Even if they were deformed, malignant feelings that were expressed as vicious actions, they were there.


Jennifer didn't know how to feel about this. There was a whole swath of fear shrouding her. Selina's words bounced around her head. Was Trish safe? What if she found out about them?

Despite herself, there was a streak of a warmer colour in that shroud of cold blue. Jennifer felt... Flattered. It didn't feel real. Vásquez, this violent, murderous, evil, beautiful, breath taking, towering, gorgeous woman actually felt something about her. It didn't excuse her actions but it did dull the pain a little. Was Vásquez just the bully pulling her pigtails for attention?  No. No, that was insane. She was the psycho that had grown attached to a pet. That was it.

The only sound for the rest of the meal was spoons scraping on plates or iron. That and Vásquez casually belching loud enough to rattle Jennifer's brain. "You gonna eat that?" She asked afterwards, pointing to the half eaten bowl.

Jennifer slid the food over to her.

After some time they were moved to a cell. It mirrored the typical cells of the prison, even down to the bunk beds. The smaller woman claimed the bottom bunk for practical reasons. She doubted her seven foot plus cell mate could squeeze under the top bunk.

In spite of how their confrontation in the gym had gone, Jennifer actually felt more relaxed around the latina now. She'd gotten her feelings off of her chest and shrugged off the guilt that had been weighing her down internally. What's more, she now felt like Vásquez had a slither of respect for her after standing up for herself.   

Now laid on the bottom bunk, she felt peaceful. Even as the whole frame creaked left and right, Vásquez climbing in. Jennifer could see the metal being bent out of shape under her weight overhead, legs emerging off the end. She tossed and turned, making the bed screech and whine. Jennifer stayed quiet, listening to the storm obviously brewing.

It took barely 30 minutes for Vásquez to give out an "UGH!" The relatively small drop still caused a meteorite like impact when she leap off the top bunk.

She lifted the flimsy mattress over her head and threw it to the ground. "This bed is way too fucking small." She stated the obvious, sprawling onto the mattress, making it look puny.

"Do you have a different bunk in your cell?" Jennifer asked, rolling onto her side and propping her head up in a palm.

"Yeah, the warden got a new bed put in my cell. It could only fit diagonally though." Vásquez laid on her back, fingers interlaced behind her head. Her lats stretched the limits of the sports bra. "They took ages getting it into the cell.... I doubt they'll be getting it out for a day or two." A day or two to heal from a stab wound felt optimistic, but Jennifer wouldn't put anything past her. If nothing else, at least it would mean less time locked in with Vásquez.

Jennifer watched her unlocked her fingers and stretch her arms and legs out. She could almost touch each of the narrow cell's four walls at the same time. Groups of muscles jump alive as she stretched. The pale woman was in awe of the Vásquez's metabolism. The bowling ball of food from a mere hour and a half ago had evaporated. She'd chugged a monstrous protein shake after the meal too, and still, her abs were back to their tight, normal selves. Jade coloured eyes traced along the abs and obliques. Across the skulls. In the dim light she noticed the paler lines. The scars. She wasn't kidding about being stabbed before.

Vásquez turned over, cutting the observation short. She shuffled, reared back onto her knees and hooked her fingers under the material of the sports bra. Jennifer's breath caught as she wrestled it up over her head and off completely. The full, muscle clad expanse of her back was revealed to the blonde. Jennifer greedily darted her eyes over the wide back, taking in all the details she could.

Vásquez pulled one arm over her chest and pressed on her elbow. There was a pop in her back and she groaned. "Fuck I'm sore. Hey, come massage me." She laid down on her front. "You owe me after I took that beating anyway, right?"

Jennifer's pulse quickened. She did owe her,but this felt dangerous. She pushed herself off of the mattress and stepped onto the ground near Vásquez's hip. "How do you want me to..."

"Just climb on and start." Jennifer tentatively stepped over Vásquez and lowered herself down, straddling her hips. Her ass was wide, thick and firm, propping  Jennifer up high.

Gently, she pushed her fingers into Vásquez's lower back, either side of her spine. "Harder." Jennifer pushed down on her, splaying her fingers out into the muscles firmly. She tried to push upwards, rolling her fingers across Vásquez's back, but found it difficult without oil or some lubricant.

The titan didn't seem to mind as she hummed happily. Jennifer was doing her best not to be turned on by this but it was a test of willpower she was failing. She kneaded the bunches and knots of muscle under the soft skin. Warm silk wrapped around steel. Moving up and down the back, she got to really appreciate the amount of muscle packed onto Vásquez. All the shapes and lines did something to her primal brain. She concentrated on not to rock her hips into Vásquez.

She needed a distraction. She searched for anything to keep her busy, to calm her libido. More thin, pale lines caught her attention. Stab marks. Lots of them scattered over the vast, tan back. She had a lot more scars on her back than her front. Vásquez must have been outnumbered and surrounded a lot. It made sense. No one would want to fight her one on one.

Jennifer ran her finger over one of the scars, momentarily lost thinking about it. Catching herself, she went back to massaging. Back on task, she had to find a new distraction. She focused on her hands. Jennifer couldn't believe how her hands were so dwarfed by the back that flared out in front of her like a huge oaken table. Her growth meant nothing relative to Vásquez. Even after missing two whole doses the latina was colossal in comparison.

Jennifer felt words forming in her hands, vibrating through Vásquez. "Fuck, you're getting me worked up, Blondie." Jennifer stopped kneading, unsure of what to do. "Get up."

She rose, stepping backwards, shrinking smaller near the toilet in the corner. Vásquez turned over, her breasts lolling to the sides as she pulled her legs in. Planting her feet, she then angled her hips up and peeled down the overalls and underwear. Her rump fell back to the mattress, a muffled thud rumbling the floor.

She kicked off the red overalls. "Since it was actually leg day, I feel like they need some attention too." Jennifer didn't know where to look. Her legs were endless. Laying on the floor like this it was even more abundantly obvious. Vásquez filled the narrow space beside the bed. She could stretch up and touch the bars while pointing her toes and hitting the toilet next to Jennifer. An old thought from last week resurfaced. 'She's outgrowing the world.' It wasn't just people. It was furniture, handcuffs and even rooms. For some reason that sent a heat through Jennifer. Looking along the trunks of the sculpted  mass, she felt it burn hotter. The urge to get onto her knees and just rub against them throbbed inside her chest.

As if sensing the tension rising off of Jennifer, Vásquez grinned wider. She pointed her toes and lifted a leg, tracing a line up through the air and just glancing Jennifer. Then she flared her leg to the side, dropping her foot onto the bottom bunk.

"C'mon, blondie. My legs are so tight." She teasingly flexed and unflexed, making the muscles surge and fall. "It's like a sports massage, right? Don't you wanna help them grow even bigger, blondie?" Those words sent fissures cracking through Jennifer's already crumbling resolve. For some depraved reason, the answer was: Yes. She did want to help. Some perverse part of her wanted to help Vasquez get even bigger. Stronger. The woman was intoxicating. Deep down she knew she didn't want to resist, but she began creating mental excuses for herself.

'She's just going to make me anyway. She'll fuck me up and then force me. And if I don't, she might start to wonder about Trish!' That last one really stabbed at her. Trish. If she didn't do this, their budding relationship could end in blood and tears.

She edged forward, leaving the faux safety of the back wall and stepping into the metaphorical no man's land. Vásquez was still flexing and unflexing her leg, pumping it up and down over and over. God, it looked bigger than just moments ago. The repeated flexing must have got the muscle ready for action. She reached out a hand and planted it on the girthiest part of Vásquez's thigh. The slab of adductor on her inner leg. It actually made Vásquez moan out, head rolling back. "Fuck, right to the sensitive part?" She laughed. "Who knew you had it in you, blondie?"

Jennifer's face felt hot, but not as hot as the iron her hand was pressed to. Vásquez finally relaxed, unflexing the limb. "Get to work." She whispered. That sultry, deep whisper sent a crackle of electric along Jennifer's spine. The command carried by that hushed tone was so out of character, almost musical. Jennifer swallowed down the last of her doubts and plunged in, sinking to her knees at the thigh, like it was an altar. She pressed her other palm to the meat of Vásquez's leg and submerged her digits. Her fingers and palms pushed deep, thumbs making tiny circles.

The massage only lasted a few minutes. This close to Vásquez's crotch Jennifer could feel the arousal build. Once it hit a critical mass she couldn't keep it contained. Her leg lifted, taking two miniscule hands with it. Jennifer felt glued to the leg, feeling gears and cogs moving beneath the surface. It began to close on her, pushing small hands to modest chest and pinning Jennifer against the other marble pillar of a leg that had come up to greet her. It was like the jaws of a prehistoric alligator, chomping down on the blonde.

Vásquez squeezed gently and crushed the air from Jennifer's lungs. Meat surged all around her, muscle crawling up her body as an otherworldly strength flooded the limbs. Lines of tone deepened, cracks in the earth, as muscles hardened. She was being suffocated of oxygen but refused to miss the glorious show she was a part of. As the legs flexed thicker and bigger around her, compacting her body more, she could feel them swallow her up. Her breasts were pushed upward, doing their best to escape the onslaught of pressure. Her stomach concaved and rib cage flattened. From hips to collar bone, she felt consumed in a fire like embrace. She loved it.

Right when the pain began to become too much the crushing stopped and a melodic laugh rolled through Jennifer's brain. "You look so small in there, blondie." Vásquez giggled. "Does this count as a massage for you?" She asked, now undulating the muscles around Jennifer.

The dimunitive woman couldn't answer but was sure her underwear was completely soaked through.

The jaws of life opened, Jennifer hooked her arms around the thighs, holding both around her, refusing to let them get too far away. She took some of their massive weight on herself and was amazed at just how heavy each leg was. If Vásquez dropped one on her she doubted she'd be able to get free.

She clung to each leg, running her hands and arms up and down their length. Vásquez was sat up slightly, propped up on her elbows to watch Jennifer. Jennifer didn't care. She leaned down and kissed the quad on her right. Then the one on her left. Right, left, right, left. She felt like a kid in a candy store. The excuses from earlier were lost. The worries too. A lustful fog consumed the cell. She leaned further down and let her tongue roll out of her mouth. Curling it, she dragged the tip along Vásquez's inner thigh. Vásquez trembled and her scent filled Jennifer's nose.

The latina bit her lip, suppressing any sound that could somehow dispel this trance that Jennifer was in. She opened her legs wider, threading one foot under the bed while the other hit the opposite wall. Jennifer bent lower, ass in the air as she continued worshipping the body around her.

Kissing and licking and biting. Vásquez had her lips slightly parted, shallow breaths coming and going, watching events unfold.

Jennifer kept one hand on the leg to her left. Her right hand explored, moving up and along until her fingers reached the smouldering mass at the base of both legs. She submerged a finger into the wet folds, flicking her tongue on the nub just above. Working her finger in and out, she felt how Vásquez gripped her tightly. She slipped in a second finger, then a third, the landscape like body squirming.

Vásquez gripped mighty handfuls of the thin mattress, forearms inflating as she did. She eased back, abs taking her weight as she lifted her elbows and switched to  grabbed the bars overhead.

Jennifer had her eyes open, watching Vásquez's body move. There was a ripple in the air as Vásquez orgasmed. A rumbling. A moan.

Pulling her fingers free, Jennifer dipped her body lower, now using only her tongue to pleasure Vásquez, hands going on a new adventure above. The hills above her swelled and fell with panting breaths while she ran her hands over abdominal. This wasn't like the library. This wasn't brutal and primal. Jennifer was actually having fun. The bars rattled as Vásquez built to a new climax. She curled a leg, hugging Jennifer with one bent limb and cradling her. From Vásquez's point of view she could see the woman just nestled in the top of a canyon of skin. With an almighty bucking of her hips, Vásquez came again.

She released the bar with one hand, finally bringing it down to plant it onto Jennifer's head. She pushed her deeper, grinding up against her. She bucked again, rasping out a groaned, "f-fuck, blondie."

Both women were sweating now, the heat of the day typically dispersed by night but at this moment the cell was an oven.

Vásquez pulled now, tentatively tugging on Jennifer's hair to pull her free from the alcove she'd buried herself in. She resisted at first, too consumed to tell what was happening. She relented and Vásquez shifted to her ass and then her knees. "It's my turn." She said, a devilish look in her eyes. She planted a dinner plate hand on the blonde and guided her backwards, onto her feet and to the back wall. Vásquez stood up, sucking the space out of the cell and filling Jennifer's vision. Her naked chest loomed, a melon thrust forwards, and an erect nipple pushed to her lips, "suck."

Pink lips parted and the dark nipple invaded her mouth. The zipper on the front of her overalls whirred down and the dinner plate sized hand slid in to study the pale body beneath. Vásquez felt the curves and drew a line down from Jennifer's chest, along her waist and then across to her pelvis, digging deeper. Her touch was electric, sending static through Jennifer.

Vásquez leaned down to whisper into the shorter woman's ear. "Mhmm, someone is juicy." She nibbled the ear and Jennifer moaned into the breast that smothered her.

Long fingers glided up into Jennifer, making her writhe against Vásquez. She was cocooned by the larger woman, surrounded by her and the wall.

Jennifer's eyes rolled in her skull as the fingers probed and rubbed. Her knees felt weak as the first orgasm struck. "Oh, that was quick." Vásquez laughed. She plunged deeper, flattening her palm as much as she could between the two slim thighs.

Her other hand forced it's way into the small of Jennifer's back sinking lower to grab a handful of ass. Jennifer did the same but found her hands were disappointingly undersized to get as much of a handful as Vásquez did. There was just too much ass.

That thought made Jennifer shiver, another orgasm rocking her. She broke away from the saliva slick nipple, a single strand connecting her for a moment.

Jennifer was panting. She only had a fistful of seconds before Vásquez came down, lips engulfing hers. Her tongue pushed into the blonde's mouth, swirling as it dominated the smaller tongue. Jennifer groaned up into Vásquez as yet another orgasm crashed into her. Her brain was being flooded with chemicals. This entire experience felt dreamlike.

The kiss ended and Vásquez yanked roughly at the overalls, pulling them off of Jennifer, popping stitches as she did. Once both women were naked Vásquez grabbed Jennifer by the waist and lifted her up like a bag of flour.

Jennifer used her arms to just about stop from crashing into the ceiling. Vásquez hooked Jennifer's legs onto her shoulders and buried her face into the shaved crotch. The smaller woman was pressed to the ceiling, neck craned and back curved around Vásquez. They wobbled for a moment and Vásquez pressed her again against the back wall.

That same large tongue now probed a different orifice. Jennifer drove the fingers of one hand through obsidian hair. The other hand was steadying herself against the concrete. She couldn't stop the noises spilling out from her lips, her already sensitive pussy receiving a barrage of stimulus. She pounded a fist against the ceiling and gasped out as another climax raged. She hugged herself to Vásquez, "st-stop." She croaked.

Vásquez either didn't hear or didn't care. She kept going, dragging Jennifer through another orgasm. Her legs were trembling along Vásquez's back, toes curled.

The stimulus was too much. Unbeknownst to either woman the G37 in their systems was burning through their nerves and altering hormones, making every sensation tripled. Jennifer begged, hugging Vásquez's head and pleading.

Eventually the giant took notice. Vásquez pivoted and sat Jennifer on the top bunk. Without a mattress she was sat on the mesh that housed the mattress. The latina's face loomed close. "What?" She asked, juices on her face catching the light. Jennifer was just above eye level like this. This vantage point was interesting.

"I need - I need...."

"Pffft. You need to work on your stamina." Vásquez rolled her eyes. Jennifer looked spent, hunched over and struggling to talk. Vásquez lifted her up and plopped her into the bottom bunk, unceremoniously. "Let me clean up and then it's your turn again." The combination of the insane day, the gym and then a rollercoaster of sex was too much for Jennifer. Shr struggled to stay awake but Nyx gripped her, pulling her into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Vásquez finished washing her face and chest of the sexual spillage. Closing the tap above the toilet she looked over at the crashed out blonde. "Hey!" She grabbed a handful of blonde hair and pulled on Jennifer. She moved partially upright but crashed back down to the mattress as soon as she let go. Vásquez sighed. She brushed the loose strands of hair out of Jennifer's face.

"Fuck me, why is it always the blondes?"

Chapter 8: G37 Trial - Week 5 interlude by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

I've had a super busy few weeks and the next chapter for week 5 is going to be a big one. I didn't want to have another week with nothing though,  so I've written up a short interlude to fill in some gaps.

It builds some plot but no growth or anything! Sorry!

Trish's teeth ground together as she watched the women charging after Jennifer. Alvarez clamoured to her feet, chasing after the group.

"Shit, Maria is seriously - Hey! Where you goin'?!" Candice shouted after Trish. She'd stood from the table and begun power walking away.

"I'll be right back." Bullshit gang politics was not getting in the way this time. She walked to the canteen doors, slightly around the corner, and then broke into a run. A tile shaking sprint. A frown etched into her face, she raced after the group. She was not going to let this happen.

They'd gotten quite a lead, but she tailed the wolves, closing the gap with each long stride. She blew through groups of people in her pursuit, not caring who saw. Quickly, she zoned in on Alvarez, the staggler. The one that lagged behind the rest of the pack as easy prey since Jennifer had winded her.

A well timed shove sent her careening into a cell, swearing as she swung in retaliation. Trish had hardly slowed, and was back at full speed in no time.

She realised what Jennifer was planning as she caught up to the rest of the inmates. She was taking them to medbay. Clever.

She slowed her pace, keeping a slight distance but ready to step in if they did catch Jennifer. Fortunately, the white rabbit got away and guards were barking at the four women. Trish came to a halt, heat coming off of her as the well oiled machine cooled.

She turned to make her way back but found a sweaty, puffed out Alvarez blocking her path. "What the fuck was that, pendeja?"

Her skin crawled, the notion that she was surrounded, occurring to her. The four women behind her were arguing with the guards but that wouldn't last long. "My bad." Trish shrugged. "I was just trying to get passed."
"Bullshit." Alvarez said, holding the knife up. Trish's large frame together with the women behind her blocked the threat from the view of the guards.

Trish stood tall, putting her hands on her hips. Like some bird in a dominance display, she made herself big. Even bigger than she was. While Alvarez was sweating, breathing heavy and bruised from two separate women, Trish looked like the run had been a brisk walk. She loomed larger than life, filling the hallway. "Really wanna try that, bitch?" 

The rumours about what Vásquez had done to the aryans were still fresh and the idea that Trish could wipe the floor with people like that played on the woman's mind. Her eyes darted up and down the statuesque form in front of her and then to the guards.

She hid the blade. "This ain't over." Alvarez said, disgruntled,  stepping aside to let Trish pass. Trish strutted passed her smugly, chin high, purposefully displaying zero fear of a surprise attack. She'd learnt early on in life that if you act like prey, you become prey.

Her path crossed with Candice after some time. The more spherical woman had tried to chase after her friend but her robust physique didn't lend itself to a sprint. She was still regaining her breath. "Gurl.... What the.... Fuck." A suppressed laugh slipped out of Trish.
"I'm sorry, Candy. I just couldn't watch them do that shit to Jennifer like that."

"Mhhhhmmmm?" There was a lot of judgement in that noise. "You mean you couldn't let them do that to your girl?" Trish rolled her eyes.

"It's not-"

"Trish M. Hunter, don't you lie to me."

That resulted in a long, slow blink. "Did you just middle initial me?"
"I wanted you to know I mean business."

"Fine. Whatever. 'My girl' then." There were finger quotations around the words. Trish honestly didn't mind Candice knowing about their relationship. In fact, it felt better having someone in the know. She'd play it off as a joke, but knew better than trying to pull the wool over Candice's eyes. She already knew.

"Well, seeing how things are going, you might have to fight for your girl soon." A growing fatigue was filling Trish. All anyone ever talked about with her was her growth, encouraging it and, fighting the other gangs. There was a direct, inverse relationship between discussing it and her motivation to do it.

Recently, she felt more like a tool and less like a person. The gang used to mean something to her. Friends. A sisterhood. Support. G37 had sucked that away, or in the very least, masked it completely. It left a bittersweet feeling in her. She was amazed by what the compound could do, but despised what it took away with it. At this point she just wanted to be done with the trial.

Candice's grin lifted some of the darkness. "Shit, why didn't you tell me you found yourself someone to vent with? Y'know, vent with." Her eyebrows wriggled the second time she said vent.
"It's kinda complicated." Trish admitted as the two strolled through the prison. "C'mon, I wanna go talk to someone."

Candice followed, nodding. "Complicated is an understatement, honey. You've got to deal with the big bad wolf to get to your girl."

"I know. That psycho has her claws in her and now all the Lobos are after her too." It felt good finally saying some of this out loud. Trish scanned the empty cells.

"Who are we lookin' for?"

"Jessica."

Candice's eyes narrowed. "She's on laundry today. Why are you looking for her?"

"Just need to check something." Trish said, keeping things vague. Candice was smart enough not to push further. Trish would tell her when the time was right.

They delved deeper into the prison, going down into the basement level where the laundry detail was placed. Rows and rows of huge machines jostled and rumbled together in a chorus of cleaning. Trish and her portly partner in crime walked through the women sorting and cleaning clothes.

There was no sign of Jessica. However, they did catch sight of a firey mane of hair, plaited into a long braid. "Yo, Rachel. Where's Jessica?" Trish already knew the answer, walking into the quiet corner of the laundry room. The quiet corner with a closet.

Rachel was sat on a chair, hunched over a phone she shouldn't have. "She's in there - Wait, don't go in!" As soon as Rachel had thrust a thumb over her shoulder Trish had breezed passed to open the door. She knew what Jessica would be doing in there. Not who with.

Inside Jessica was half naked, ravishing a guard who was literally drowning in cream coloured curves. Her red overalls were down to her knees, a black vest yanked down to leave her breasts in the humid air of the tiny space. The guard had his trousers down under his ass, shirt open and chest bare. He looked to match Jessica's 6'3 but was being overwhelmed by her, definetly not steering the sexual encounter.

Her flushed face turned to the doorway, "wha-what the fuck, Rachel!?" The redhead fell off of her chair in a bid to close the door. Trish couldn't even make out which guard it was ensnared in Jessica. Fingers gripped her pale ass, holding a thigh against the guard's waist. Their crotches were mashed together, Jessica pounding him into the wall while he weakly thrust back. A single breast smothered his face completely, keeping his upper body glued there too.
When Jessica leaned backwards to grab the door handle Trish and Candice finally identified the guard. The door slammed in their faces. The two women looked to each other, both slack jawed. A crimson faced Rachel ushered them away, grumbling about how she was going to be in the shit.

There was a pregnant pause as Trish and Candice stood in the laundry room, background white noise a comfort. "Fucking Jackson?" Candice finally broke the silence.

"I knooooow! " Trish gushed back, laughing. "Of all the fucking guards.... Hey, I think you should get out of here. Jessica is gonna be pissed at me."

Candice winced. "Yeah, fuck that. I'm out. Holla if you survive." Candice shook her head as she waddled away. A final, disbelief laced "Jackson?!" Was heard by Trish over the machines.

It was only a few minutes later when the man himself walked passed, shirt missing a few buttons, a dishevelled air about him. He kept his cap low over his eyes. "Bye, lover boy." Trish sang as he walked away. The quip had made him jump just slightly.  She wasn't sure if she should be happy for him or feel bad for him. Jessica had been fucking him into oblivion. And every passed day meant she'd be fucking him even harder into oblivion.

She picked her way back through the laundry room, towards Rachel and the closet. Jessica was wringing her out like a teacher scolding a student. "You call that guarding the door? Man, I'm gonna tell Selina not to give you anymore burners. What were you even doing?" The pale woman shouted, seeming gargantuan over her seated friend.

"I was playing candy crush! You got me standing guard all the time, I need something to do!"

Trish cleared her throat and the two bikers stopped arguing. "What do you want?" Jessica asked.

"Well, I thought interrupting you getting it on would be funny, but I mainly came to ask some questions. Firstly, Jackson?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's not like we've got a buffet of fuckin' men to choose from." Jessica replied theatrically.
"Fuck, you pretty much are using the guards as a buffet." Rachel scoffed. Jessica shot daggers with her eyes but the redhead looked far too proud with herself to be phased.
"Aight, next fuckin' question." Jessica addressed Trish, moving her hands one over the other, trying to speed this whole ordeal up.

Trish looked down to Rachel. "It's kinda sensitive." A more serious tone descended on the trio. Jessica's annoyed sarcasm dropped. She rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek as she gauged what to do.

"Rach, adults need to chat, go take a lap." Rachel looked from one red clad woman to the other tutted and then got off of her stool.

"That shit's not funny." She said, looking miniscule between the two six foot plus women.

"It's kinda funny." Trish smiled down at Rachel. They waited a moment for her to leave.

"What's this about, Trish?"

Trish strolled over and took a seat on the stool. She worded the question in her head before she finally spoke. "Would you ever fight Vásquez?"

Jessica hadn't expected that and her face showed it. "Um, no. I like not being dead."

"What if it was both of us against her?"

Now Jessica looked bamboozled. "Trish, where are you going with this?"

"Everything is getting tense because of this medical trial. The aryans are getting fucked. Lobos are pushing on every edge. Things are going to hit a boiling point soon. Our gangs our tight, and the way they're treating us... I think we're gonna have to deal with Vásquez."

Jessica whistled. The words resonated. She knew exactly what Trish was talking about. The way people were reacting to her, the tension in the prison... "Shit, for things to get that crazy it's gonna take something big. You wanna be that spark?"

Trish clenched her jaw, thinking about Jennifer stuck with Vásquez in medbay. That's where they'd have taken her, right? Only dark thoughts came to mind. "Yeah, maybe I do."
"Well, I don't want to be that spark." Jessica shook her head, crossing her arms and propping up her massive bust further. "But if things do get crazy ." She sighed. "You know the niners got your back. I've got your back."

The extra clarification made Trish break into a smile, white teeth dazzling against her darker complexion. "Yeah. I thought so." That was true but she still felt relieved hearing it. "What's going on with you guys and the aryans?"

A laugh bubbled up. "Shit. Just waiting and watching, right now. They've stopped running drugs in block B and a few of them got moved to block A. Even Amber is there."

"Yeah, not many of them left in block B. They're on their last legs."

Jessica tilted her head a notch. "I wouldn't say that. They've always been snakes. Even if you cut off the head, they'll still bite. They're not dead.  Not by a long shot." She was right. Trish filed away the idea to keep an eye out for them, just in case.

Chapter 9: G37 Trial - Week 5 part 3 by Kokoji
Jennifer was torn on how to feel about Vásquez. Being stuck alone with her, in addition to all Selina said, she was getting a better understanding of her and her mindset. Then there was that evening. That intense and, admittedly, amazing evening. However, the morning after there'd been a change. The large latina had pulled away.


She'd grown quieter and distant. Initially, Jennifer thought it may have been bitterness due to her growth - she was still steadily inching bigger while Vásquez's growth had begun to plateau. Vásquez feeling her power slipping away as Jennifer caught up, seemed like a prime motivation for the mood. Then, in one of their brief interactions, she'd corrected her form, explaining in detail why doing it a certain way was important, helping to hone her efforts in making gains. So that idea went out the window.

Vásquez's lack of growth built more animosity between her and Smith, instead. They'd been at each other's throats over the course of their stay, passive aggressive comments or outright shouting at each other. Turns out even the military mettle of Mr. Smith could be ground away dealing with incarcerated women for long enough.

The way she treated Jennifer was different altogether. Not aggressive. Not even passive aggressive. Just short. The tables had been turned and now when Jennifer tried to start a conversation Vásquez was the one to end it with a short response.

Jennifer didn't understand, but was too scared to push and outright ask why. What really frazzled her? How this silent treatment was building a heavy ball of sorrow in her gut. She'd lie to herself that she was glad Vásquez was acting like this, but it was a hollow, weightless lie.

Using the gym and shadowing Vásquez had been one continued positive of staying close to her. She'd been making leaps in progress compared to the fruits of her late night workouts. A vein had emerged along her bicep, her abs had swollen into little bundles, making a six pack and, her butt and legs had both gotten juicier. She loved it. She felt stronger, brimming with a new confidence. Jennifer bet if she punted Scar in the chest now she'd send her soaring.

Not only had the workouts built up her muscle, but her height had continued sneaking upwards delightfully. She'd checked the scales at the gym this morning and found she'd reached 5'10. Her weight was a staggering 189lbs, which, secretly turned her on juuuust a little.

She wasn't just above average anymore. She'd surpassed that marker. She was tall. Built like an athlete. On the cusp of being imposing, even. Every shower she explored new swells or deepened  lines. It was wonderful. Even her toes scrunched up in the too small plimsolls was something she looked forward to in the mornings. Today she'd had to go barefoot until Smith had brought her another pair after breakfast. When Jennifer had placed her sole on the old plimsoll it had disappeared from sight, her toes curling around the plastic edge.

"So she's all healed?" Mr. Smith asked Nurse Doe. Jane Doe. Every name was fake in his staff, apparently.

"Yes, sir. It's... Miraculous. I've never seen a stab wound heal so quickly. It's barely even scarred."

Vásquez looked unimpressed, sat on the edge of a bed that looked comically small, leant forward with her chin in her hand. It would have looked like 'the thinker' if her expression wasn't so obviously, dreadfully, stone cold bored.

"Can I go now?" She asked. "Back to gen pop?"

"You don't want your next dose?"  Smith asked. Vásquez perked up and Jennifer strained her ears harder from the doorway.

"This better not be a joke."

"You do-" Smith stopped himself from a ranting tirade. "No joke. In fact, I've got a surprise for you. You'll see later." He said with a fake grin plastered onto his face.

Unaffected by the feigned niceties, Vásquez ploughed on. "When? Now?"

"No, no. We'll administer the dose later today. Maybe after your reintroduction to the general population." She deflated. They let her out of the examination room and Jennifer appeared at her side.

"Hey, congratulations. For healing up a-and for your next dose." She smiled up at Vásquez. At breast height to the 7'9 woman, her neck ached a little less peering up at her. This was the closest she'd been in height to Vásquez since the trial started.

Deep, hazel eyes stared back at Jennifer. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, I... I listened in." The blonde sheepishly replied, worried she shouldn't have said anything.

"Thanks." They walked towards their cell, no indication that Vásquez would say any more in response.

"You sounded happy about getting another dose." Jennifer waited but no reply came. "Why are you so driven to get more?"

A deep sigh left the giant woman. "I used to be called bean pole for a reason. I struggled putting on weight. It wasn't easy. This makes it easier."

"Oh..." Mentally, this generated many more questions. 'Is she still insecure?' She wondered. It felt impossible but then she'd been wrong about Vásquez's emotional depth before.

"But, like, why do you want to grow so much?"

"Man, I don't get you. First you avoid talking to me and now you won't shut up." The reply had come suddenly, a vicious punch from no where.

Jennifer buttoned her lips, telling herself that she didn't want to cry and that the lump in her throat was just anger. Hollow lies again. Dirt she couldn't scrub off of her skin. Feelings she cursed herself for feeling. They walked quietly, footsteps echoing down the corridor as the guard led them back. They returned to their cell, the steel bars sliding shut behind them. Locked in with silence. Locked in with the feelings Jennifer didn't want to face.

She climbed into her bunk, preparing to face the wall, to try and distract herself from the storm of negativity pelting her. She'd done it hundreds of times in her regular cell. She'd think about what was going on outside of the prison. Outside of the hellish, barren wasteland around them. About family, and movies and Netflix. About burgers, ice cream, and milkshakes. Or pie in the diner on the corner of the block near her house.

All it served to do was make her more sad. Colourful, happy memories framed by the grey of her new life.

Vásquez started talking as abruptly as she'd shut down the earlier conversation. "I got beat like a fucking dog."

Jennifer sat up.

"For years. People used me to shoplift and pick pocket and beg on the streets. I didn't wanna do it. I told them to fuck 'emselves and got beat down. A lot. Big, fully grown ass men, beating on me, a fucking kid." She chewed her lip, sat against the wall, staring out of the cell. "I tried to work out and be strong, like a boxer or a wrestler. It didn't fucking work. Nothing did... Not until I stabbed the fuck out of one of them." Her forearms were on her knees, hands hanging limply, bunching and unbunching into fists, images playing in her mind. "Then the Lobos took me. That's when I started working out for real. Fighting for real. Eating right. I got strong. I turned myself into this bit by bit. I struggled every fucking day.  Working out until I couldn't move. Eating until I wanted to throw up. I got strong... I'll never not be strong again."

Jennifer was speechless, perched on her bunk. Selina had left some details out. "I'm... Sorry that stuff happened to you."

"Don't be. It made me who the fuck I am." The response was sharp, lashing out quickly.

Jennifer left her bunk, edging closer to Vásquez. She stood next to her and then sank onto her thicker butt. The latina didn't turn, she didn't look.

Jennifer put a hand on Vásquez's and the fist melted. "People shouldn't have to go through that. So yeah, I'm sorry."

Vásquez yanked her hand free, violently. "It happens. I don't want sympathy." Standing, she crossed the cell in a single stride. "Hey! When we going back to gen pop?" She bellowed through the bars. Jennifer drew her legs in, this rejection stinging deep enough that she couldn't deny it hurt. Then a ray of hope cascaded down. "When we go back, you can work out with me."

Green eyes travelled upwards to lock onto brown eyes. Looking her in the eyes, something clicked in Jennifer's head. Vásquez wasn't sad. She wasn't insecure. She didn't want sympathy. There was no room for any of that, no time to feel sorry for herself. Vásquez moving away wasn't her rejecting Jennifer, it was her rejecting the past. All she cared about was moving forwards. Thinking about working out all over again. "What do you mean?" Asked the blonde from below.

"In gen pop. In the yard. Use the weights. Don't stop working out because we can't use the gym. I'll deal with Maria."

"Okay." She said softly, her crushed feelings flourishing a little. She felt lost, not comprehending how to interpret the mix of responses from Vásquez, but took solace in the fact that she didn't outright hate her.

Shortly after that conversation, they were taken back to the regular wing of the prison. Trepidation rippled through Jennifer as she stepped back into medbay, down the corridors she'd been chased through. That washed away when they reached more populated areas. Jennifer could feel eyes on her, she could feel the shock and awe. No one had expected her to come back like this, this much meatier and bigger. She drank in their reactions, feeding off of them. She stood straighter, taller, chin held high.

Locked in with the giantess for so long, her perception of average size had been thrown off. Now in front of everyone, she felt big.

Even with the threat of Maria's wrath, this was the safest Jennifer had ever felt in the prison. She couldn't stop comparing herself to anyone she recognised. To the woman who had stolen her towel in the shower. To the one that had busted her lip for no reason. To the asshole that pushed in the canteen line.

Could she take any of them on? They weren't experienced fighters, just asshole bullies that threw their weight around. A weight that she could lift and toss aside now. The formerly pixie-ish woman was beaming. They got to her cell first. "Stay here. I'll go talk to Maria." Vásquez said, departing to broker a peace.

A gobsmacked Rachel greeted Jennifer. She jumped down from the top bunk. "Whoa." She said, tilting her head back to look Jennifer in the eye.

"Yep." Jennifer cockily answered. She brushed passed Rachel,  purposely knocking her gently as she climbed into her bunk. "Oh, sorry." She feigned, internally doing back flips. Fuck, making her stumble had been easy.

"Well.... Welcome back, Blondie." Rachel said, shrugging off the new dynamic as best she could. She hauled her heft back up the tiny ladder and out of view on the top bunk.

A visitor arrived at the cell about an hour later. Alvarez. "Hey, shrimp. Maria sent me. Her and Vásquez talked. Hits off." The 5'7 woman leaned against the doorway of the cell, arms crossed, chest puffed out, smirk affixed to face. She was being a  bitch on purpose. Puffing up her plumage and strutting around, just as Trish had done to her days ago. It was all a primitive display to remind Jennifer exactly who was on top in the violent heirachy of cell block B. That kick in the canteen did more damage to her pride than anything else, apparently.

Sliding out of her bunk, Jennifer approached Scar. The look on her face was priceless. As Jennifer grew closer, her new size setting in, Alvarez's features flitted through a whole host of emotions. Pride inflated Jennifer's chest when she recognised the flash of fear.

"Thanks." She smiled down at Scar. "Might want to think up a new nickname though, shrimp." She barged passed the smaller woman as she exited the cell. Jennifer knew she was playing a dangerous game but adored every second of it buzzing, full of excitement.

She made a beeline to the canteen, already hungry again. The blonde was gorging herself in the canteen when a guard came to retrieve her for the next dose. 'What was the point of sending me back and forth?' She asked herself, annoyed that she hadn't been able to eat her fill.

Any sense of frustration evaporated when she got to medbay and saw who she was paired with for this dose. "Trish!" She screamed, sprinting over and leaping into a hug. The guards moved to separate the women but Smith raised a hand to stop them.

"It's SO good to see you!" Squealed Trish, lifting Jennifer up and crushing her with an embrace that would have probably done some damage if she were still 5'2. "What happened while you were gone?" She let her down, holding her at arms length and scanning her up and down, worried.

"Vásquez and Smith had me on this side of the prison to keep me away from Maria." Jennifer explained, pointing to Smith with a nod. "But it's okay now, Maria and Vásquez talked."

"And what happened in there? Did that bitch do anything to you?" Trish asked, still looking for obvious signs of abuse.

"No, no I'm fine, I promise!" Jennifer smiled.

"Seriously? What did you do with her the whole time?"

Thoughts of that night surfaced. Jennifer pushed them down. "Mainly just work out. We got to use the staff gym here. Look!" Unzipping her overalls, she pulled them down to her waist, showing off her new size. The t-shirt underneath was stretched tightly over her body, sleeves gripping her biceps, torso poured into the fabric. Trish looked surprised but quickly took in the new, bulked up Jennifer.

"Wow." She chuckled. "You really worked out." A hunger formed in her gaze.

Smith cleared his throat. "Well, since you two actually follow my directions, we can try to open up the gym to you more often." The two women looked over to him as if they'd forgotten he was there.

"What about Vásquez?" Asked Trish darkly.

"She seems to make due with the yard resources. If she's more compliant in future, we will let her have some alloted time." His way of speaking had changed at the mention of Vásquez's name. Words enunciated with an edge, tighter.

That answer appeased Trish. "That sounds like a pretty good deal then." Jennifer, on the other hand, felt her stomach sink, guilt gripping it and wrenching it lower. No one seemed to notice, and Smith casually led the ladies to their next dose.

"Speaking of Vásquez, want a sneak preview of the surprise I've prepared for her?" Smith pointed through an open doorway like a TV host showing off the grand prize of a game.

Jennifer felt that wrenching even harder. "Is that...." Her heart rose in her throat, looking at the shape in the darkness.

"Yes it is!" He exclaimed, a tad too excitedly.

"W-why do you need that?" The blonde's instincts raised red flags, Smith's giddiness striking her as a sinister omen.

"Oh, don't worry! We couldn't find a bed big enough so that was the next best thing. It's not like we're planning on killing her."

What the fuck does that mean?! Why did he say it liked that? Trish and Jennifer shared their concern, non-verbally, with a glance to one another. Smith pressed on without further explanation and the guards shoved the two women forwards.

They continued through to the examination room and a familiar routine began. The ladies both stripped down. After her run in with the Lobos and spending a few days with Vásquez, Jennifer had come to a decision. Keeping the ID card on her person wasn't optimal. Instead, she'd made a slit in her mattress to hide the ID card. It wasn't terribly safe either, but meant she didn't need to worry about being caught with it when getting a dose.

The scales clanked as Jennifer weighed herself. She had to hold in a laugh when she read the red neon number. Her weight had inched up by another 5lbs over the course of lunch. Maybe she'd had enough after all.

The guinea pigs got half dressed and sat in their respective beds, nurses running through the various protocol. Jennifer kept arching her feet, stretching and trying to see if she could scrape the bottom of the mattress without shimmying down. Now that she was bigger and heavier, the thinness of the mattresses bothered her. Moving uncomfortably, she tried to ignore the fact that she could feel the bed frame underneath.

Restraints were strapped on and things swiftly went downhill. Instead of IV bags, a number of intimidatingly large, purple filled syringes were rolled out on a noisy trolley. Compared to the IV needles, these were massive.

"Um... What's this?" Trish asked, fidgeting.

"Hm? Oh, we wanted to try infusing the serum into your system via a new channel." Smith said from across the room.

Jennifer's phobia reared it's head, her heart pounding against her breast bone. The tip of a syringe caught the light and twinkled, evily at her. Sweat rolled down her neck. "I-I don't think I can do this." She muttered, focus cemented to the syringes.

"That's not an option." Smith's voice came, cold and surgical.

"No, no, I mean it. I... I don't know if I can." Struggling to get free, her new strength was treated. It wasn't enough. She couldn't break her bonds, the leather chaffing her wrists.

"Sir, maybe we should-"

"Continue with the dosage." Smith cut off the small nurse. There was a conflict on her face, visible even through her mask, but she trudged forwards. She held a metallic, triple needled, curved monster. To Jennifer it looked like the maw of a cyber demon.

"Hey." Came a soft, soothing voice, slicing through the mounting panic in a way it shouldn't have been able to. Jennifer ripped her eyes away from the metallic beast to see an outstretched hand. It was Trish. Even in the restraints, she'd angled herself and thrust out her palm.

Jennifer cranked her hand against her own cuff and just barely brushed the long fingers. She twisted and made another attempt that wasn't any more successful.

Jennifer's nurse, on the other side of the bed, gave a 'hmmphf' as she shoved the bed. Smith looked exasperated, folding his arms as he watched emotions overrule science. It took a few shoves from the tiny woman, but soon Jennifer could tangle just her fingertips into Trish's.

"Thank you." She said to the nurse who gave a shallow nod. With just a slight interlocking of fingertips, the anxiety was easing.  She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight as syringes dug into her flesh.

"It's - ugh - it's okay." Trish managed through he own triple stabbing. Jennifer cracked an eye open to see her grimacing. The plungers went down all together. Some mechanised trigger that pumped the whole load of G37 into the women at once.

This was different. Alien. The slow drip meant they couldn't feel the chemical slipping into their blood streams. Now they felt every millilitre. Fire in their blood. Napalm burning through the red, coursing deeper into their bodies.

A strangled gasp escaped Jennifer as she stiffened and creaked and flexed. Like a powerful wind bending the rigid branches of a tree against it's will, Jennifer bent, arching, new, bigger breasts rearing up in her vision.

It began immediately. The migrating of bone, tectonic plates beneath her skin, clic-cracking away as her body pushed outwards. Those same, larger tits swelled, stretching the t-shirt to near translucency. The cups of her bra crawled down her sensitive skin, nipples escaping their confines and standing at attention atop orbs propped up by pectoral. Her rib cage inflated, pulling the straps of her bra to their limit before the material dug into her. Her hips and ass plumped further, legs lengthening down the bed bit by bit.

This time there was a new sensation stealing her attention. The heat in her fingertips. The movement against her movement. Trish's growth was underway too. Their fingertips crackled with electricity as they weeded, interlocking.

Jennifer had never felt anything animate while growing, and having it be Trish heightened things even further.

Knuckles passed one another, cleaving through the air like two ships in the ocean, but closer. Nerves sang as skin moved against skin and fingers meshed together. Trish's fingers pushed into Jennifer's palm. Through the onslaught they twisted their hands, linking fingers and closing them together. Their hands, finally, fully clasped together.

The strength in the vice grip increased, both parties doing their best to endure. Jennifer felt Trish's fingers stretching in bursts, running along the top of her hand. Her own were doing the exact same, one hand throbbing bigger and then the other, until, finally the government concocted growth fuel ran empty for one woman.

Jennifer's digits continued their stuttered swelling for a few heartbeats more before her pale fingers settled to a final size.

The two women let out a collective exhale. "Fu-fuck, that was intense." Trish wheezed.

"Yeah. Um, thanks for this." Jennifer said, wriggling her wrist and tugging gently on Trish's hand. Trish didn't give a verbal reply, just a smile that made Jennifer's euphoric, hormone driven haze soar higher.

Nurses bustled and gradually the two women let go of one another. The blonde looked down at the connected hands as the embrace ended. Excitement dialled higher as she mentally compared her memories to the new reality. Trish's hand was still bigger, of course, but the gap had closed more. Jennifer was raring to stand up.

Vertigo wobbled her for a moment as she stood quickly. Face to face with Trish, she finally got her comparison. Both women's clothes were worse for wear but mostly intact. She stared directly into Trish's lips, stretched into a smile. Jennifer's own grin was easy to translate.

"Catching up even more, huh?" Trish teased.

"You better keep getting your protein, or I don't think there's gonna be a gap for long." She winked back.

Her nurse, the one named nurse Jones, stepped between the two amazonians. They both cast their eyes down at a ghost of the past. Jennifer's old size. 5'2. Her head was below either woman's shoulders. Both women were head and shoulders above her. Jennifer wondered what it would feel like to look up at herself from the nurse's shoes. To be staring so far up at  someone who had been equal size a few injections ago. Jarring? Intimidating? Thrilling? Jones put a hand on the small of her back, "please go to the scales to be remeasured."

Jennifer planted a hand on her head, ruffling her hair and messing up her pony tail. "Yeah, yeah." She hip checked her, sending her stumbling. "Oh fuck, sorry!" She giggled, not having intended to be that forceful. The fact she could generate that much force by accident elicited a chuckle.

Too tight clothes were shed, stripping down, Jennifer was left in only her panties. She cast the other clothes aside, leaving them heaped into a bundle of popped stitches and ripped fabric.

Stepping onto the scales she stared at the numbers. It felt surreal. She'd broken 6 foot. She'd smashed her way into a height range that hardly any women were in. She nibbled her lip as she felt her crotch twitch and tingle. "Six foot two." She said to herself. She was a behemoth. She was elated.

Switching into new clothes, Jennifer glanced to Trish on the scales, noseily attempting to see her new measurements. A conversation nearby demanded her attention more, however.

"Sir, I don't think it's safe. There'll be too much strain on her heart."

"It wasn't a request, nurse Jones. Get it done."

"But-"

Smith's voice lowered into a malicious whisper, "if she dies. She dies. Get. It. Done." Nurse Jones' jaw sagged lower. After a pause she nodded and slinked away.

It took a moment to deduce what that was about. This must be about Vásquez and the surprise from earlier. Had he been lying about what they'd be using it for?

Jennifer felt sick, her jubilant mood tainted. The guilt from earlier returned. She needed to at least try. "Who might die?"

Trish was pulling on a t-shirt, alert to the conversation now. "None of your business, oh-two-two-nine." Smith said, switching back to inmate numbers. The ice under Jennifer was clearly thin here.

"What is she talking about?" Trish weighed in now, worried.

Smith had had his command questioned one too many times by one too many women. "You two don't get to ask questions! " He exploded, spittle flying. "But since you're so fucking curious, I'm talking about Vásquez. If Vásquez dies, she fucking dies."

There was hardly any reaction from Trish while Jennifer became irate. "You can't fucking do that!" She growled, stepping forwards.

"Jen, calm down." Trish was puzzled by the outburst, trying to quell her temper. "It's just Vásquez? Who gives a shit?"

Jennifer did. She hated that she did, but she fucking did. "No! Fuck that!" She thrust a finger towards the bald man, "you can't just kill one of us off in your bullshit, frankenstein experiments!" Her new size meant the nurses and guards were far more on edge. Nurses darted away, guards replaced them. "What, you gonna just sweep her under the fucking rug when you're do-" She'd stepped too close to Smith. A guard had swung his baton, hitting her in the base of her neck and bringing her to her knees.

"Fucking bitch!" Trish screamed, pushing the man hard enough for him to crash against the one way mirror on the other side of the room, cracking it.

A taser jammed into her back and the amazonian went rigid, volts running through her. A baton took her down. Then another blackened Jennifer's consciousness.

"What the fuck is this?" Those were the words that welcomed Jennifer to consiousness. Trish, furious and scared. It wasn't a good start.

It was hard to make out the shapes initially, but soon things became clearer. They were back in the medbay beds, locked down. It took a while for Jennifer to understand where exactly they were, the surroundings felt similar but unnaturally off. The cracked one way mirror was the give away. The cracks were reversed. They were adjacent to the room they recieved their doses in, looking through the mirror instead of at their reflections. The room had been altered, beds removed to make space for something else to take centre stage. The surprise.

Bolted into a rig, secured in the middle of the room sat a colossal electric chair. Like this it looked monolithic. Huge geometric lines, sat alone, ominously, in the middle of the room. Lit up by a beacon of lights, surrounded by darkness. A warped circus act for the entertainment of Smith. A gargantuan throne built to make offerings to a dark God. Basic, thick slabs of wrought iron, so dark that they looked craved from obsidian. It's inky blackness drank the light in. The thing had been shaped for a single, terrible purpose. Death.

Jennifer felt it's oppressive presence under her skin. "Whadda f-fuck is going on?" She slurred, still shaking off the effects of a cocktail of drugs to that had been put into her and Trish, maintaining their unconsiousness. There was, apparently, no one to answer.

"You okay?" Trish asked. Jennifer didn't get to answer, a voice ringing out from behind them. Not alone after all.

"Good morning, inmates." Both women strained to look at Smith. "You were both so very worried about Vásquez, I thought I'd give you the perfect view to see it all unfold." He said, strolling around the two beds and into view.

"You can't do this." Trish said. Smith pounded a fist to the wall.

"Wrong! I can do whatever I fucking want! You think the warden runs this pathetic shit hole? I do. That moron hasn't even noticed he isn't in charge anymore. He doesn't have the brainpower to see where the money for this place is coming from. It's from me. Us."

"Who?" Jennifer asked.

"Shut up!" He snarled. Jennifer bit her tongue. She wanted to scream and rave and swear, but she wanted information more. If this meglomanical asshole wanted a big speech, then let him have it. He might let something slip. "I've said it before. You don't get to ask questions. I'm in fucking charge. Not the warden. Not the guards. Me. And the sooner you bitches learn to heel, the better." He took a breath, pausing to gather himself. "So, yes, you get to see what happens to Vásquez. You get to watch what happens when people fuck me off. Congratulations." He clapped his hands together happily, the complete opposite of his facial expression.

Heading towards the door, he stopped in the threshold, "oh and for the record, I don't want her to die. I just don't care if she does. Our goal has always been the facilitation of science. And science demands sacrifice." The door slammed shut behind him.

"Well, he's more of a cunt than I'd thought." Trish spoke up. Jennifer was too angry to reply. "Hey, what's going on with you? Why did you lose your shit in there?"

It was a good question. In a million years, Jennifer would have never thought she'd lose her shit like that for Vásquez. Yet, for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel torn about her emotions. She didn't feel dirty. She'd done the right thing. "She saved my life. More than once." Her tone was sullen. "I'm just sick of never being able to do anything. Never being able to help."

"Sometimes you can't win." Trish said. "The system is rigged and you're fucked." She sounded like she was talking from experience. They sat there, deafeted, staring at the death machine in the other room.

After some time the door of the opposite room opened and Vásquez squeezed her way in, ducking under the doorway, followed by multiple guards and Smith. They must have measured her in another room as she had her vest in her hand, only wearing a sports bra and the red overalls. Jennifer immediately began screaming her throat raw.

It was pointless, the rooms had been completely sound proofed. Speakers came to static laced life, transmitting the conversation between Smith and Vásquez back to the observation room.

"Is that an electric chair?"

"Yes, it is."

"Cool!" Vásquez tossed her vest and voluntarily hopped into the chair, a wide grin on her face. "It's been a while since I've sat in a chair that isn't too small." She wriggled her ass in the wide, iron seat, taking in the spare space. Her reaction was more akin to someone being upgraded to first class rather than someone confronted with a tool of execution. She really did look small in the gigantic, black machine. Tiny even. Her fingers could just about reach the end of the arm rests.

Jennifer couldn't believe she'd willingly get into the chair, let alone be this excited. Someone had died in that chair, electrocuted until their soul left their body... And Vásquez was grinding her butt into it happily.

"We had to import the chair from Texas. It was custom made for an inmate's execution."

"He was a big boy."

"That he was. He was over 8 foot tall."

"After this dose he might seem a little more average." The latina smirked at Smith. She had a knack for getting under his skin.

"Perhaps, yes." Smith raised a hand and the guards started securing the straps, restraining Vásquez to the chair. The leather was bound tightly across her stomach, chest and shoulders, her arms, wrists, legs and, her ankles. Now Smith let the pin drop. "If you survive, anyway."

"Why wouldn't I survive?" Somehow, strapped into a chair and powerless, she was still unafraid.

"Well, the nurses have advised against what I have planned. They've said your heart simply won't be able to take it. You see, you missed three doses, didn't you?" Vásquez didn't answer, instead watching the man, a caged tiger staring at something she'd like to maul. "Well, I thought it would only be fair for you to receive all three doses at the same time. Triple the drug. Triple the pain." He said, brandishing one of the three pronged devices.

"Its about fucking time." No fear showed on Vásquez's face. Stone faced, she continued.  "I was worried you fuckers would short change me. So yeah, triple the whatever. Get on with it."

A vein throbbed in Smith's forehead, as his face tinted rose coloured. His theatrical, villainous reveal hadn't stuck the landing. Jennifer actually let out a chortle of a laugh at his expression. "What?" He asked, genuinely perplexed by the response, a muscle spasmed in his face as he tried to control himself.

"Fuck meeeee." Vásquez rolled her head back, clanging against the iron. "Are you deaf? I'm a big girl, I can handle it. So hurry up." The fact that she was oblivious to the very real life threatening events and still making demands did something to Smith. Weeks of dealing with Vásquez, other insolent women and, from his perspective, incompetent staff finally shattered his poker face. He looked livid, veins pulsing in his neck and head, eyes bulging and skin fully turning crimson. Jennifer was sure some blood vessel in his head had just burst, but he pushed on. "Good. Then let's get this started and see if your fucking heart explodes."

He dropped the syringes signaled for a new group of people to come forward. Three nurses appeared from the corner of the room. They attached a number of apparatus to Vásquez, dotted around the copper landscape above her sports bra. A machine started rhythmically beeping, recording her heart rate.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Trish said.

"What?" Jennifer asked, stirring from her depressed observations.

"Listen. That's her heartbeat."

"So?"

Trish began counting on her fingers, nodding her head in a separate, different rhythm. "Jen, her resting heart rate is like.... Below 30 per minute."

"Whoa. Is that even possible?"

"I've heard of it being low in athletes but holy shit..." Trish trailed off.

That gave Jennifer a glimmer of hope. Maybe she could handle it. Even so, when Jennifer recognised nurse Jones holding one of the triple syringe devices, she prayed the woman's morales would cause her to protest.

Her prayers were uncharacteristically answered as the nurse faltered, pausing her walk. Stiffly, she turned to Smith. The back of his hand smacked her across the face before she could even voice her opinion. She was sent onto her ass, mask knocked askew. Tears welled up in big blue eyes, looking up from the ground. "Leave. Now." Smith commanded, snatching the syringes from her. She stood ramrod straight. Ripping the mask fully off of her face, Jennifer could see her for the first time. She was younger than she'd guessed. Embarrassment mingled with rage on the youthful woman's face, a red mark on her right cheek. She strode out of the room wordlessly. "If you want something done right..." Smith mumbled to himself, approaching Vásquez with the two other nurses.

They had a brief countdown and then the needles sunk into copper, along her arms and the base of her back. A grunt of pain showed that Smith's technique left something to be desired compared to nurse Jones.

Purple liquid drained into the restrained woman. Needles were removed and everyone rapidly hurried away. From the way they frantically backed towards the wall, you wouldn't be amiss in thinking they'd just set a bomb to detonate.

The beeping spiked, picking up pace. Veins along Vásquez's biceps and shoulders glowed lilac for a few heartbeats. Hunching forwards against the restraints, Vásquez tightened her grip on the cool iron arms of the seat. Jennifer's stomach tied into knots.

The digital heartbeat continued blaring erratically faster and faster, the latina squirming, finally showing some signs of pain. Leather begun to creak against her skin. She was growing very slowly.

The infernal robotic noise was almost constant now as hair whipped through the air and Vásquez crashed backwards into iron, teeth grit. Spanish curses bled through her teeth as she fought against the restraints. Jennifer watched her abs solidify into diamonds, forearms balloon out, lats flaring into wings and shoulders rounding. Veins erupted, criss crossing over caramel skin.

Her eyes screwed shut, a pained wail escaping. Not a groan. Weaker, like a whimper. Her hips were expanding in the seat, ass spilling out to consume more space. The beeping was deafening but more weak chokes of pain could be heard over the speakers. Those noises coming out of Vásquez were wrong. Never had Jennifer heard something like that come out of the titan. Every other dose she'd made primal, angry noises. A familiar lump formed in Jennifer's throat. The one she'd told herself wasn't sadness. Try as she might, she couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that this was too much for anyone. She was watching superman bleed. Vásquez was going to die.

She just wanted the bleeping to stop. The fucking blasting, thunderous beeping. Whose heart could beat that fucking fast? The pain from one dose was unbearable. Your entire body was on fire. Your nerves, your blood, your bones all dipped into molten lava. Triple that? Jennifer couldn't even imagine it.

Vásquez's teeth gnashed back together, eyebrows arching into furious lines. Eyes opened. She stared straight at Jennifer, making the blonde recoil into the bed. No, she was staring at herself. At her reflection.

The same look from earlier today. The same as the bathroom where Jennifer had been held hostage. The unbearable foreboding dissolved immediately. She felt idiotic for questioning Vásquez. Defiance and determination were the foundation for who she was. It might as well have been seared into her DNA. Even if it was just as a symbolic 'fuck you' to Smith, she would refuse death.

Breasts rose and fell quickly around the leather strap, audible, jagged breaths making Vásquez sound like the enraged monster she truly was. The machine's chaotic, violent bleeping slowed to a constant, powerful thudding. Now, the growth changed gears. It barrelled through Vásquez faster, pumping ever more size and power into her. This much G37 meant the changes were  colossal, concentrated, quaking bursts of growth. Veins throbbed all over Vásquez like roads on a map. If Jennifer wasn't so happy to see Vásquez surviving the ordeal, it would have been terrifying to watch.

The too large seat was rapidly being consumed by more and more and more Vásquez. "Y-yesssss." She rumbled despite the large changes wracking excruciating pain through her. She shuddered and spasmed upwards in the chair, head rocketing up against the backrest, shoulders surging up and out from the top of the girthy strap. Breasts squished against the leather, billowing over both the top and the bottom as they gurgled heavier, pectoral throbbing into slabs beneath the surface. Her hips avalanched towards the edges of the seat, filling and over filling the space as overalls exploded along the seams. Fingers flexed straight, knuckles cracking as they abruptly lurched longer, wrapping around the previously unreachable edges of the armrests. Knees ascended, bending at angles that became more acute, limbs lengthening longer, passed the original tailored size the chair's restraints could contain. Red cracked open along the muscle and sinew of her legs unable to stop their advance outwards in every direction.

The armrests of the chair let out a screech, Vásquez's fingers ripping the metal skyward as they swelled around them, forearms bulging, webs of veins pulsing thicker.  "F-fuck, yes! More!" The beast roared, making the spectators jump. "MORE!" Came a throaty scream. Vásquez was willing the serum in her body to feed her more size. She'd been hungry for this. Hungry for her dose. Greedy for more size.

The first strap to give way was the one over her chest and shoulders. As Vásquez's back eclipsed the chair, she became too broad and thick to be contained by the leather. The material gave up before the buckle and the entire strap snapped, pinging across her body in a blink and revealing more flesh. The release of the strap meant a tsunami of breast and an ocean of strain was transferred to the sports bra which, like a domino falling, followed the example set by the leather. Elastic was devastated and the material burst under her arms. She ploughed outwards, each tremendous expansion forcing rips to maw wider and allow more of the latina bubbling through.

The forermly oppressive chair had lost it's aura. Vásquez was devouring it, dominating it with her raw growth. Now it was a conduit for her pain. She channeled it into the chair, flipping the orignal relationship between it and it's occupant.

The second strap to surrender was the one on Vásquez's left wrist. The buckle exploded open, unable to contest with the strength battling against it. The iron armrest was wrenched upwards, bending to a 90 degree. She was taking the massive chair apart. Tearing down the hulking structure piece by piece as she outgrew it further.

Vásquez growled, venting the searing ache the changes were causing. Ripping her right arm free, the straps along the wrist and bicep shredded as buckles turned into shrapnel. A fist crashed down on the right armrest, mashing the metal earthwards.

Hunched forwards again, still heaving with short, sharp breaths, Vásquez trembled larger,  knots of muscle rising. Each breath seemed to inflate her larger, back bigger and rounder. Even bent forwards she was blotting out the sight of the chair.

Below, the chair was being overwhelmed by different dimensions. Overalls transformed into tattered rags, as Vásquez's legs waged war with the metallic enemy. The armrests were forced wider. Forced to accommodate the woman between them. Forced to yield by her hips and ass. Her bare feet arched, plimsolls a memory on the floor. Calves flexed into heart shaped boulders, thighs ballooning. There was an odd tearing sound as the buckle on one leg sheared through the leather like butter as it was forced looser. The mirrored strap, on the other leg, split at the base, whipping up and then down as the mounting pressure finally took it's toll.

The terrifying growth mercifully came to an end. Vásquez's heart rate plummeted and the veins receded. The monumental, mammoth chair looked laughable now. Vásquez was far, far too big to sit in the debris comfortably. Only the misshapen armrests were visible when looking directly at the chair.

She leaned back in what was left of it, only restrained by four straps instead of ten. Then she started laughing. Deep, devilish laughter echoed through the speaker. Jennifer let out a soft laugh of disbelief. Turning to Trish, she saw the absolute dread on her face.

Chapter 10: G37 trial - Week 5 part 4 by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

This was initially intended as a short chapter to post quickly.  It got....  A little out of hand. Big thank you to Vman2000/gtortoise for some fun ideas and for some editing towards the end. He did an amazing job painting a vivid fight scene and I can't describe how thankful I am!

Deep, rolling laughter bounced off of the white tiles, creating a suffocating blanket of sound over everyone in the room. Nurses and guards stood gargoyle still, Vásquez, a towering gorgon sat in her lair, victims around her turned to stone. From a distance, her wavey, black hair could have been mistaken for coils of snakes, they jiggling around her shoulders as she cackled. Smith was stuck in marble too, staring at the beast he'd empowered, jaw tight. The hairs on the back of his neck stood perfectly straight, ice sweat dampening the vest under his shirt, making his skin slick. Earlier he'd said that he wasn't explicitly planned on killing the giant bitch. That was true, however, a part of him had hoped it might happen.


Of all the demented women in this prison, why did she have to respond so well to the serum? A brutish, selfish, demanding, rude, ignorant, bitch. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her file, he'd hated her. Interacting with her was infuriating. Beneath him. This whole fucking position was beneath him. A terrible assignment out in the middle of an arrid hellhole where life itself shouldn't have been possible. Shit food, shit people, shit weather, and, above all else, the injustice that it was him that had drawn the short straw. So yes, a part of him did want her to die.

He couldn't do anything as black and white as that though. She was far too valuable to the research, displaying results that no one in the original lab trial had even come close to. From the outset she'd been breaking records. Now she'd guzzled down a triple dose. The projections and mathematics indicated that Vásquez shouldn't have been able to handle it.

A triple dose was the last ditch attempt of putting her in her place. Death had been a stark possibility, at the very least undiluted torture. Unbearable pain leaving her a sputtering, convulsing, crying mess, begging for it to stop. He wanted to drag her lofty attitude back down to earth in his closed fist, shrink her bloated ego down to a more manageable size. But that hadn't happened at all.

It had backfired, the opposite taking place instead. He'd just propelled her into an even more unstoppable monster. To see her not just survive, but thrive on the purple substance was beyond disturbing. No one had been so attuned to G37, growing so much, practically willing the transformation faster. Her resonant laughter engulfed him, chilling him to his bones. It compounded everything, making  reality feel like a mirage. A bad fever dream. A nightmare.

Vásquez casually extended her legs, thighs expanding, taking only a few seconds to dismantle the two remaining restraints on her ankles. It took a few attempts to unbuckle the leather holding her slender waist to the chair due to how tight it was. The last strap over her left bicep was ruptured and split with little effort, and Vásquez was free to rise to her full, inhuman height.

Her head thudded hard against the nine foot ceiling. "Ugh!" She grumbled and let her short fuse burn away. It would be unbelievable to many but she'd actually been bottling up her anger in front of Smith for the past few weeks, worried that if she went too far she'd be taken out of the experiment. Now she felt untouchable. She was free to be herself. "Fucking ceiling!" A fist the size of a sledge hammer rocketed upwards into the smooth, white above her. The entire room quaked, plaster and dust showering down on everyone. Finger thick cracks radiated out from the epicenter of the caved in ground zero, reaching out to stop only a few feet from the walls. She smirked, blowing debris off of her knuckles. She hadn't even punched that hard...

Her smirk fell as she looked passed her unscathed knuckles, focus drawn to the mirror across from her. She hadn't seen her reflection in a mirror this large for over two weeks. Stood here, lights from various angles highlighting her body, she stared at herself. Seeing the whole image and not just tiny rectangles of it made the surreal changes click together.

She looked like a sculpture, a main attraction in a museum exhibition, a statue created to depict a member of a pantheon from a long dead artist. Muscle. Swells, bundles, cords, slabs all over her body, strength pouring off of her. She'd always been lean before, never particularly curvy, but the G37 had changed that. Every dose augmented the ground work she'd done. Years of forcing her appetite larger was bolstered by the serum, increasing how ravenous she could become, evolving her metabolism and changing her bone structure. More fat on her frame, dizzying curves had blossomed, balancing out the raw power. Together they made a spellbinding package. She liked it. Jennifer and Trish behind the glass watched Vásquez, the former in entranced fascination and the latter in stomach churning dread.

She bent at the waist, breasts hanging pendulously, bringing her face into view. She inspected herself. The rags hanging off of her, formerly clothes, were torn away, uncovering more golden skin, streaked with a pale dusting of plaster. She squeezed one breast, smiling wide and running her tongue over her canines, fingers sinking deep. Her expression softened back into contemplation and, gently, she grazed her fingers over the capped swell of muscle in her shoulder, cleaning away some of the white, chalky dust.

The sound of a car engine starting filled the room, demanding everyone's attention. Vásquez straightened up more slowly this time, avoiding the ceiling. Her contemplative expression was gone, replaced by her typical smugness. "I just ate lunch and I'm already starving again?" Playfully she smacked her abs. Looking to the petrified staff against the back room, she waited for a response. "I'm hungry." She said more flatly. No one moved. "I said I'm hungry." She was more forceful this time, expecting the tiny little nurses to scurry away and bring their number one subject some much needed nutrition. Another fuse was rapidly being singed to nothing as the forest of statues remained unmoving. It fizzled away completely.

"Hey, assholes!" She clapped her hands, conjuring thunder, stomping closer to the group. "I'm fucking talking to you!" That was enough to kick start fight or flight in most of the group. Nurses scattered and the over zealous guards that had been all too happy to attack Jennifer and Trish earlier went back to their regular programming. Hit first, ask questions never.

Vásquez wasn't being blindsided though, and even in a relatively cramped space for the giantess, she flitted backwards, batons slicing through the air where she'd been.

The guards fanned out, trying to surround her, as they'd been trained to do. She sprung forwards, back muscles dancing in the theatrical lighting, a fist coming down on one man, grounding him in a single blow. He didn't get up. He didn't move.

Batons rained down on her back and legs, guards taking the small window of her dropped guard for all they could. To Vásquez, it may well have been rain, splashing against her body in droplets.  

They backed away as she turned to face them, laughter again tumbling out of her. "Aw, I like it rougher than that, boys. Don't be scared to put your back into it." The taunt obviously touched a nerve. One switched to his taser, stabbing at Vásquez ferociously. She dodged deftly, slipping the motions and unfurling back up. It was almost the exact same motion she'd used against Hilda. But this time the fist that came up into the man's side was a battering ram. It forced him off the floor, blowing him up and back. He groaned, curling up on the ground, not realising the onslaught wasn't over. A foot came down like lightning, eliciting a nauseating crunch. The scream that came out him was loud and animalistic. He tried to push up against the foot but it was an impossible task. She was pressing all of her weight and more down onto him, foot diagonally pressing down on his chest, heel at his belt and toes nearly at his shoulder. Vásquez looked giddy, grin stretched across her face as her leg grew, flexing thicker and driving more force into the twig like bones below.

The man would have been snuffed out like a candle if she'd continued. Too preoccupied sadistically enjoying his pain, she missed the two other guards approaching.

They both barreled into her from behind, knocking her forwards, off of the prone man. Pressing their advantage, they continued their team work, one tasering Vásquez in her cobble stone obliques, just under a row of skulls, while the other hacked at her with his baton.

This tree couldn't be felled, no matter how much he hacked at her side and legs. The tasering had made her torso harden into steel but, after the pain of a triple dose, it didn't have the same mind numbing effect it used to. Or, more likely, the fact that Vásquez was 9'3, over 700lbs, and built sturdier than many buildings meant the taser's voltage could only slow her down.

She ignored the guard with the baton and, fighting against muscles that were trying to sieze up, she reached for the other man. Her fist swallowed the guard's, including the taser it contained. She slowly pulled his arm up. Taser's kiss left her skin and she was free. A bone shattering elbow swung up at the other guard, forcing his head to spin around and his body to fold like paper. That had been surgical. Business before the fun and games.

The last plaything was an animal trapped in a snare hand engulfed by the giantess. Frantically pulling, tugging and flailing, his punches and kicks richocheted off of the wall before him. Panic seeped into his very being as he sensed the swelling murderous intent coming off of the predator.

"N-no, please." He begged. The thin smile he recieved in response sent a shiver through him. Vásquez closed her hand. The sound of a dry branch splintering filled ears. He pulled and tugged harder, screaming, crying.

The vice closed harder, veins rising on her forearms as muscles swelled. The man fell to his knees. Smith looked ashen, watching his men be dismantled. "Enough!" He shouted, hoarsely, barely audible over the last guard.

Vásquez's head turned in his direction, eyes burning bright, face cast in shadow by the curtain of hair. She had to angle her head down, shoulders curved so she didn't press against the ceiling.

She closed her fist. The noises were no longer human. They rose an octone and then ceased, guard going limp, dangling from her hand, probably in shock. She let him drop.

The hulking mass lumbered forwards, each step subtly shaking the ground. She stood directly in front of Smith, lights behind her casting her shadow impossibly big, gobbling him and even the cowering nurses behind him up. He was face to face with a wall of breathing rocks, eyes level with her top few abs. "What now?" She asked, leaning forwards and forcing Smith to semi-limbo. Limbo. That's exactly what he was in now. Stuck between authority and powerlessness. "You gonna call your riot boys? Think they'd get here before I'm done with you?" She purred, booping his nose with the end of a digit much thicker than a roll of quarters.

Smith swallowed and cleared his throat. "I was actually thinking I'd send one of these nurses with you to the nearby canteen. We'll, get you fed and have some clothes sent to you.... If we can find some."

Vásquez raised her eyebrows,  tilting her head slightly. Ruby lips, tilting up just slightly, parted,  "good answer." She patted his bald head condescendingly,  like he was a puppy who had finally mastered peeing outside. "One of them needs to hurry up. Now." She pointed over his shoulder without looking, smouldering gaze affixed to Smith.

Smith stepped back, snapping around and pointed to a random nurses. "You. Go with her now. I'll send someone to relieve you as soon as I can."

The nurse eventually accepted her fate and ran by Vásquez, towards the exit. Only then was the stare broken. "Good." was all she said. Following the woman through the war torn room, she stopped at the tiny door. It was miniscule compared to her now, proving to be a slight issue. She had to bend over almost in half to get through, and when she did, her hips got jammed in the doorway, too wide for the frame. Her chuckling echoed down the halls, not needing to carry through the speaker for Jennifer and Trish to hear it. It took some wriggling but the latina freed herself, disappearing to fill her bottomless appetite.

No one spoke for a while, letting the events hang in the air.

"I can't believe you wanted to save that."  Spat a disgusted Trish, not even referring to Vásquez as a person anymore.  

"Look she's -"

The speaker crackled to life,  Smith speaking. "I need a medical team to room 189, repeat, medical unit to 189. Now. Over." He had a hand on his forehead. "Fuck. This turned into a mess." His voice carried a smidge of regret. "We're going to have to up our security for her next dose....  Maybe get in some cattle prods."

"Next dose, sir?" One of the nurses said, voice wobbling, worried by the proposition.

"Yeah, the boys back home will be having a field day." He nodded to the camera which must have been shut down at some point. "My hands are going to be tied. Shit, they might even ship Vásquez out of here for recruitment."

Trish and Jennifer looked at each other, amazed. In all the chaos Smith must have forgotten they were there listening in.

"Well, at least Jones will be happy that we have data on multiple doses." Another nurse spoke quietly. She sounded tearful. "Even if she didn't agree with how we got it."

"She doesn't have the stomach to follow through on her research.  We moved the entire thing here to appease her morality and she's still causing issues." Smith tutted. He looked to the fractured reflection of himself. His eyes widened then as his memory of the two inmates returned. He snapped his fingers at the nurses to cut any further conversation. "One of you go and release those two." He thrust a thumb at the mirror. "I'll get a guard to meet you in there. First, I need a paracetamol." He groaned, pushing his fingers into his eyes, tripping over a body on his way to the door.

"Boys back home?" Trish whispered.

"Cattle prods?" Jennifer returned fire.

"Fuck that, who the fuck are the boys back home!" The words jumbled into one, Trish's mouth trying to keep pace with her brain. Another piece to the puzzle.

Her excitement zoned Jennifer in too. "He said 'recruitment', so this is definetly military, right?"

"Yeah, and someone high up enough to scrub a murdering gang banger's record clean too."

"Fuck, do you think they're CIA?"

"CIA shit, testing drugs? Some MKU-" The latch on the door clicked, both women's heads whipping around. Neither could see who entered until they walked into view.

It was Jackson and one of the nurses. He tried to stay stern and calm but seeing the medical teams next door, already working on the other guards, made him pause. Walking over, he placed a hand on the cracked mirror. Brightly uniformed men and women were tending to the wounded, loading the injured into stretchers, administering CPR to the man who had been crushed underfoot. "What the fuck happened?" He breathed.

"Vásquez." Trish said. "Vásquez happened." Jackson turned to face her skin a sickly pallid off white. It was easy to understand why. The giant latina probably still held onto her grudge from a few weeks ago.

The women were returned to the general population. Quickly, they headed to the library. Together, not bothering to pretend their usual ruse, more interested in discussing what they'd just overheard.

In the library, Jennifer started talking first. "Why did they talk about nurse Jones like that?" She hadn't registered it upon first hearing her name, but after processing the conversation on their walk back, realised they'd glossed over a detail.

"That's the small nurse, right? They said it was her research. It was moved here because of her."

"Because of her morality... Fuck." Jennifer answered her own question before she even asked it. "Smith said science requires sacrifice. She didn't want random people dying for her research."

"So... They moved it here. Killing inmates. Worthless people. Us." Trish finished, pursing her lips in anger, injustice stoking up a rage in her.

"Well...  She still didn't want to give Vásquez the triple." Jennifer tried to defend the tiny nurse. Throughout their interactions Jennifer had felt compassion and empathy from the woman. There was no way she was fine with what was going on.

"Yeah, well, fuck her anyway. Fuck 'em all." Trish said, bitterly. Seeing her like this made Jennifer's heart hurt. The bubbly, happy Southern woman wearing a mask of anger. Beneath the mask was pain and sadness.  

Trish ran her finger along a row of textbooks, pulling out the volume on the American legal system, expression souring further. That textbook was the one she'd been reading for weeks. She'd read through any and all legal textbooks in the library, in a bid to better equip herself in getting out of here. Jennifer had tried to decode the legal babble, giving up and abandoning the jargon filled tome. Trish never did. "You know the evidence in my case was inadmissible?"

Jennifer looked from the hefty textbook to Trish. "No, I didn't." She hadn't known much besides the fact that it had been a drug bust.

"Yep, my 'legal counsel' conveniently forgot to mention they broke in before they got a warrant. It was all bullshit. Fuck, I didn't even want that shit in my house." Trish licked her bottom lip, pulling it in and digging her teeth into it. "Now I'm in some fucked up secret CIA shit that may or may not KILL me." She slammed the book back in, making the entire shelf rock back, teetering. Jennifer jumped forward to grab it, stopping it from crashing to the ground but not fast enough to stop some books sliding out from the other side.

Consoling words were  On the tip of her tongue when a sound made her ears twitch. Hurried, hushed footsteps. The walls had ears.

Jennifer took large, long strides around the bookshelves, rushing to see who had been eavesdropping, but wasn't fast enough. She glimpsed a swatch of orange through the safety glass on the double doors, missing the spy as they went around the corner.

Fuck. "We need to go." Darting back to Trish, who was still stewing in her past, Jennifer grabbed hold of her hand. "What're you doing!?" Trish asked as she was pulled towards the double doors.  

"Someone was here. They were spying on us." Jennifer explained.

"What? Who?!"

"I don't know, another inmate. We need to go. They might not have seen us, just heard us." She didn't have a clue who could be listening in, but the persistent feeling of being watched in the library began to make sense. "Maybe it was Lobos. O-or Nation? Or maybe Smith has spies in the inmates."

Trish stopped, easily grinding Jennifer to a halt. She hadn't thought of the latter. "They don't have to be mutually exclusive." She said, frowning. Could the red clad women really trust anyone?

But double agents eavsedropping was the least of their worries. Since Trish had been crowned a 'nuke', there had been a bullseye on her back. "I really don't give a shit if nation know I'm talkin' to you. But if Lobos or K13, find us here we're boxed in." Trish started moving again, hands still interlocked with Jennifer. To Jennifer it felt like she was holding the reins of some wild bronco, her shoulder almost ripped from the socket. They left the library together, parting ways and splitting up.

The blonde went straight back to her cell, a new wave of paranoia setting in. She gave a quick greeting to Rachel, who was candy crushing on her phone, and dove onto the mattress. Fumbling a hand into the slit, Jennifer struggled to remain nonchalant as she checked for the ID card. A relieved sigh escaped her when her fingers met the plastic nestled in the padding.

Reclining onto the bed, she eased into a more relaxed position, folding her hands behind her head and stretching. The dark plastic on her plimsolls clanged against the metallic frame, heel slipping off the edge of the bed. Jennifer leaned up to look down her long body. An impish grin returned, paranoia forgotten.

On the examination bed, before the growth, she'd tried to dangle her feet off the edge of the bed, arching and shimmying lower. The bunk was far narrower than that bed, cramped due to the bunk above, but the length was the same. Yet now, she didn't need to even try. Experimentally, she laid back down, head hitting the thin, firm pillow, body straight on the slab of rock mattress. She titled her head up, to see the wall was incredibly close, feet still just hanging over the edge of the bed. She was too big. She was officially too big for the bed.

The blonde squealed quietly. A red braid swung down before Rachel's chubby, freckled face followed. "You alright down there?"

Jennifer swung her legs out and dodged Rachel as she crawled out of the bottom bunk. "Everything's fine."

Ice blue eyes glinted with understanding at the sight of Jennifer standing straight. "Aw, fuck me you all had another dose?"

"Can you get down?" Rachel rolled her eyes, stuffing the phone under the pillow. She used the ladder, not vaulting over the edge as Jennifer's recent bunkmate had done.

The biker looked unimpressed at the new, improved, enlarged cell mate. Craning back even further than an hour ago she shook her hands jazzily, "woooow." She said. "Between you, Trish and Jessica Imma get a neck ache."

"How much do you weigh?"

"Uhhhh... A big ol' nun-ya-fuckin-business." Rachel replied, sensitively.

"Ugh, come on, Rachel, I'm probably heavier than you now anyway. It's just a number!"

"Why do you even want to kn-" Jennifer did a 180, crouching down in front of Rachel, red overalls pulled taunt around her ass. It was a reflex to stare at the curved globes for just a moment but it still made Rachel's already pinkish complexion more red.

"Hop on, I wanna do some squats."

"No way, I don't wa-"

"Rachel, either you get on or I'm picking you up while you try to run your fat ass away." The chunky woman was agape. The former midget, whom she'd bullied, could probably deliver on the threat at her current size. Begrudgingly, she closed her mouth and climbed on, internally cursing herself for her initial bitchiness towards the blonde.

The statuesque woman had to keep her face forwards, staring at the cracked tiles and the mould dotted grit. She was biting back a laugh, trying not to be too smugly satisfied directly to the redheads face.

Rachel's arms looped around her neck, then the cushioned softness of her curves pressed into Jennifer's back. Rachel was amazed by how firm and wide her cell mate's back had become. Traps like hand holds on a rock climbing wall flexed under her forearms. Jennifer cupped the woman's legs and jostled her upwards further, causing a tiny squeak. Rachel's whole body has been jumbled upwards along the back.

Straightening up made the muscles beneath the freckled woman flex in a wave from bottom to top. "See! You're not that heavy!" Jennifer giggled, dropping into the first squat a tad too enthusiastically. Rachel's grip tightened around her neck.

Rising and falling quickly, the chubby woman gripped harder and harder, terrified on the new rollercoaster experience. Muscles pumped fuller, thicker, as Jennifer eagerly churned the reps higher. She caught herself then and remembered what Vásquez had said. Form. Slower is better. Taking the advice on board, she straightened her back, stuck her butt further out and continued slowly. Now it began to burn, but, this was still easier than she'd thought it would be. "I was squatting like 120lbs yesterday. It feels about the same with you on my back."

Rachel scoffed. "Jen, I weigh much more than that." Her stomach jiggled against Jennifer's back as she gave a short laugh. "How long are you gonna keep this up?" That last part sounded more exasperated.

The blonde ignored the second sentence, focusing on the mystery contained in the first. "Much more?" She pressed. Looking down at the overalls stretched tight over her quads, she admired her own gains. She could do this all day. "I'll stop earlier if you tell me." She sang, negotiating while continuing to do reps.

She didn't need to see the woman perched on her back to feel thr resolve crumbling. Rachel really didn't like being lifted, especially by her cell mate who had been a foot shorter and much meeker less than a month ago. How long could she stay tight lipped?

Through the dark bars of the cell, a commotion could be heard. Bursts of shouting and wolf whistles. Both women were intrigued by the foreign sounds. Bending slightly, Jennifer tapped on Rachel's chunky thigh, "alright, I'll stop." Loosening her grip, the redhead slipped down and back to earth, thankful to be on solid ground.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked, strolling over to the bars, peering out. Jennifer did the same, gripping the metal and pressing her cheek against it's cool surface to look down the long corridor. She had a feeling she knew what was happening.

Vásquez had returned. Her fellow gang mates were whipped up into a frezny, all shouting, catcalling and joking with her. They were purposefully drawing people's attention to her. To her new, even more hope crushing size. Mental warfare. Perhaps it hadn't started that way but that was exactly what it was now. An infectious wave of excitement transferred cell to cell, making the Lobos wild.

Looking out across to other cells there was a mixture of reactions. Fear, dread and disbelief. However, the most worrying faces were the ones with a malicious resolve gradually brewing behind them, zebra striped by shadows. Angry eyes and determined faces, quietly watching through the bars. Jennifer couldn't imagine the intensity of that many eyes, that many faces, that much hate all coming down on one person. The air was growing heavier, pressure building before a storm. And in the eye of the storm was Vásquez, walking through the hall, hands bound by multiple zip ties, spaced out along her wrists and forearms.

The holding cells lined both walls of the narrow hall. Walking through the space between them was like a gangplank, flanked by eyes, on display for everyone. Every inmate had a clear view of her, even the ones on the second floor, watching through the metal grates of gangways. The ceiling rivalled that of the canteen, safety glass letting the setting sun's orange glow light the space. The high ceiling meant this hall was one of the small, and shrinking, number of places where Vásquez could stand comfortably. She was taking full advantage of it, walking with a military posture, straight, tall and displaying her transformation to the fullest. Equally unfazed by the joking and catcalling as she was with those watchering her with darker thoughts, she didn't smile or acknowledge friends. Instead, she was using an internal radar, picking up on those that were casting hatred down at her. She met their eyes one by one, unwavering as she did, memorising faces for later. She looked to be having equally mean thoughts, face betraying her mind.

Her mood starkly contrast the clothes she'd been given. She looked like an 80s fitness model. A humungous vest and pair of shorts, probably some custom outfit for an insanely obese inmate of the past, was all they'd found. There was a lot of skin on show. Shorts turned into tight daisy dukes, wrapped around her ass like a second skin, thighs forcing the hem into a life or death struggle with every movement.

The vest tented outwards by jutting slopes of perky breast. From the nipples down it hung loosely, a waterfall cascading off of her chest. It ended about six inches above her waistband, abs on half display. Arousal crept up on Jennifer, her heart rate steadily increasing. Thinking about it now, she reasoned that the cat calling probably started as light teasing from the inmates, due to the skimpy clothing, a sight not often seen here.

Vásquez passed Jennifer's cell and snapped her eyes to the blonde. Holding eye contact for a few heart beats that stretched on for days, then gone. When the look finally broke Vásquez returned to looking for prey. Rachel gave a wry laugh. "I take it that was for you?"

The returning giant had stayed almost completely emotionless as they stared at one another. But she could read Jennifer like a book. She could sense the yearning from the blonde to let her eyes wander over the temptions below. A lighting flash wink and a phantom of an upturned edge on her lips was all it took. That tiny gesture was, Jennifer was ashamed to say, enough for her knees to weaken. "Yeah, I guess so." She replied, still unsure of how to feel about Vásquez. Her thoughts were disturbed by her cell mate.

"Shit, I thought you were getting big. That... That's not a human size." Rachel leaned against the bars, peering down the other end of the hall, eyes following Vásquez. Both women did, until the jeering quieted and Vásquez was gone from sight. The static pressure didn't pass as swiftly, an unnatural silence forming.

Inmates settled back into their bunks, myriad thoughts coming forth as they all burnt time, waiting their next meal and some freedom. Minutes became hours and sounds returned outside. Rachel went back to her phone, a subdued buzzing signfied a message. "Oh fuck."

Jennifer propped herself up onto her elbows. "What?"

"K13...  They, um... They might be creating a truce with the Nation." Vásquez wading through the metaphorical river, down the middle of the cell block, had created ripples. Turns out the conversation Jennifer had overheard in the canteen was off the mark. The largest gang in the prison had just sided with the third largest, and by extension, with the Niners. The Lobos, and Vásquez, were now alone. Once again, things were changing in the prison, the fragile balance swinging to and thro. There would be a lot of violence soon.

The cells opened and inmates were called out to check attendance. Jennifer easily picked Vásquez, Trish and Jessica out of the line. They stood out, towering over most of their surrounding inmates. Selina was harder to pinpoint. Then again, knowing her, she could still be in her bunk, snoozing. These four women and herself were sending the prison into a free fall. Jennifer's stomach tightened as everyone was dismissed, allowed to move freely. She expected immediate chaos, a battlezone erupting in the hall. Gangs spilling into a riot, rivers of blood.

It didn't happen. Everything was.... Normal. Inmates, grouped by prisoner number, going to get food, others milled about doing duties or gossiping, playing cards, watching TV, calling people. It was an unexpected but welcome turn of events.

She noticed Vásquez heading to the canteen. Trish was talking to a group of Nation inmates, Jessica going over to join them. Jennifer defaulted to follow Vásquez, knowing she couldn't join the other group to chat, despite wanting to listen in. Besides, she still had a deep set worry that the new alliance might have some after shocks tonight.

Fluorescent lights replaced the sunlight in the canteen, sun finally having dipped below the horizon and temperatures cooling off. Guards lined the gangway above, pacing back and forth, footsteps part of the soundtrack in the bustling room. Vásquez opened the double doors, stooping low to access the space. She sauntered along the line of inmates waiting for food, dwarfing everyone. Awed faces turned upwards to look at the woman, like they were seeing some exotic animal in real life for the first time. It was truly amazing seeing her mingle with the regular sized women. On average they were level with her belly button, some just coming up to her hips.

She reached the front of the queue, cutting in and using her hip to bump away whoever had been next, sending them back a few feet. No one argued, having better sense than to start a fight with someone almost double their height.

Vásquez clicked her fingers, beckoning with a finger for food. She was presented with a huge pot of whatever was being served. Even with the gargantuan offering, the behemoth was displeased. Jennifer couldn't make out the entire conversation, but from what she could gather, Smith must have forgotten to up Vásquez's allotted calories,  leaving her with the same amount of food as before.

The pot was probably enough to feed two or three tables of women... Enough to feed a seven foot plus Vásquez, but not enough to satisfy her hunger now. However, she relented, taking the pot, evidently too hungry to argue. Maria awaited her, sat at their regular table. The tables in the canteen were long, low to the ground and foldable. They were great for seating large numbers of people with the frame connecting stools to the table itself. Great for seating average sized people, anyway.

Crouching down, Vásquez crammed her legs under the table, resting her weight across two stools. The entire structure was forced in two directions, the tabletop was pushed up by cannon ball knees, the stools and the steel connecting them were crushed down by a set of hips that could flatten a man. The whole table shook and  jolted, making those seated grasp at their trays and drinks, frightened they'd be thrown to the ground. Vásquez dropped her pot with a clang and straightened her legs, threading them through the gaps between those opposite. She was cartoonishly squished into the seat.

The blonde joined the back of the food line, not having the political sway or physical indimidation of Vásquez. Her eyes were glued to the table of wolves, waiting to see if things were going to escalate or not. The ravenous titan was a tornado of gluttony, using a serving spoon to ferry food into greedy mouth at ungodly speeds. The massive steel utensil held huge heaps of food, entire servings for regular mortals, but mouthfuls for the behemoth. In Vásquez's catcher mitt it looked small.

Body language on the table grew tense over the next minutes, shoulders rounding and vicious hand movements. The conversation was becoming heated while Vásquez  feasted. Emerald eyes flicked from one gang general to the other, trying to figure out what was being said. The gravity of the situation was really ground home when Vásquez's serving spoon stopped dead in the air, halfway on one of it's journeys to her mouth. Head turned to Maria, her food filled cheeks didn't detract from the fearsome look on her face. She was motionless staring at the leader, scanning her face, trying to gauge if she were joking. After gulping down the cheek bloating mouthful she started speaking. It must have been in Spanish and incredibly rapid as Jennifer couldn't make any sense lip reading.

More heated talking followed. The line for food shortened and the inmate behind Jennifer brought the fact to her attention, in a less than polite manner. She told her to 'move fucking forwards,' to be precise. She did, shuffling towards the serving window. By the time she looked back Vásquez was scraping the bottom of her pot, finishing off the meal. What had she missed in those seconds? How had the pot been devoured that quickly?!  

The rest of the gang at the table were still talking, still heated. The pot dropped to the table loudly, drawing attention from around the canteen and cutting the bickering on the table short. The inmates grabbed the table, trying to steady themselves and their food as the force of nature moved. The leviathan was untangling herself from the table. Maria and the other Lobos, still holding on for dear life, were chattering in a flurry to Vásquez.

She didn't respond. She extracted her legs from the steel, pulling one free at a time, jostling the table more. Once loose, she began walking, brandishing the serving spoon like a mace. Down the long path walled in by tables, she went, thighs and hips filling the space completely. Anyone in her way had to move, forced to dodge into the cracks and crevasses between tables, or be trampled.

Hushed whispers descended over the canteen, all eyes moving to the colossal woman making her way into K13 territory. A member of the gang stood, bravely trying to bar her entry to the area. But as the giant grew closer, the massive size difference killed all courage. It was a misguided attempt. A single hand consumed her face, shifting her out of the way like she was a child. Nothing more than a blade of grass before a tank, rolling through a field.

She walked straight through enemy territory, directly to their headquarters. The table with the most senior gang members. Gripping the napes of two sets of overalls, Vásquez unceremoniously hauled inmates out of their seats, hoisting them up and dragging them away. The gang leader put up a hand, stopping a riot from breaking out.

Like fish on hooks, the two inmates wriggled in her grasp, plimsolls and boots scuffing the linoleum floor. She cast them aside and replaced them on the table. As a repeat of earlier, she threaded her legs through the gaps, bending metal and shaking the whole thing. Somehow she cared even less this time and let her too large size dominate the space and furniture. The table creaked, seats under her ass buckling. In the middle of the K13 members, Vásquez had shoved people aside, shoulders pushing on neighbours and massive trunks muscling people opposite aside. She stretched out, getting comfortable.

"What do you want?" Came a question. Vásquez pulled the two displaced women's trays closer. Using her shovel of a spoon, she scooped up everything left on one tray, metal thudding against the hard plastic edges. The remnants of the meal disappeared, deposited into her maw. Everyone watched her jaw work up and down, machine like, pulverising an entire meal in one go. They watched the lump travel down her throat, one gulp. The woman who asked the question looked disgusted. First one tray, cleaned. Then she moved to do the the same with the second, clattering steel against plastic, getting every morsel of food onto her spoon and then ending it. It was a monstrous showing.

Two whole meals, enough to sustain grown women, gone. In seconds. Like snacks. Chewed up and devoured, just disappearing into this giant. Even her titanic spoon was a ridiculous sight, grinding home the size difference and the sheer quantity of food needed to fuel her.

Vásquez leaned forwards to one of the members and burped, abs contracting for a moment, metal of the gangway ringing. Jennifer swore she saw the gang members auburn hair flutter in the burp.  The woman looked repulsed, shell-shocked, fixed to her seat. Everyone watched in a trance as the beast reached across the table and took another tray. She stole a plastic cup too, draining the liquid like it was a shot.

She started her ritual again, collecting any and all food into a heap on her shovel. The people around her were frozen. This was the first time they'd been next to Vásquez in a long while. Watching the mountain of a woman eating created a chilling atmosphere. She was an apex predator. They were campers, confronted by a grizzle bear in the middle of camp. Watching and praying that she would eat their food without devouring the closest person too.

She carefully scraped every nook of the tray, getting as much of the food as possible, then up ended the spoon into the bottomless pit. Into her mouth to be crunched down and added to her swelling gut, more energy.

After the third tray, Vásquez pointed her spoon at the head of the gang, flicking sauce onto the table. "I heard you made a deal with Nation." Another stifled burp. "I was so sure you'd have more Latina pride than that, puta." She claimed another tray.

Jennifer watched Vásquez emptying the tray, a heat rising through her. That whole pot wasn't enough. That whole pot and now one, two, three, four! Four fucking meals wasn't enough. No, she was going to keep eating, stuffing herself full of more. More. More. More. Bringing the food up, lips opening, Jennifer was hypnotised. Those gorgeous, juicy lips. Fuck. Why was watching Vásquez eating a whole table of meals dry turning her on? Fuck sake, she knew the answer. Because all that food, all the meals she was denying others, was going into the woman to make her more. More food equals more her. Vásquez was starving a whole fucking gang, as revenge, to fuel her own greedy growth. It was despicable. Evil. Fucking hot.

"You're not one of us, pendeja." The leader spoke, finally.

Vásquez looked up from her fifth tray. She gulped the ball of food down, stomach visibly inching larger. "I didn't say Mexican did I, moron?" No answer came. She upped the pace, collected the final trays, pouring their contents out into one.  "You fucking bitches don't deserve food." She rumbled, amassing all the food in one place. Hunching over the mountain of meat and protein and carbs, she made it evaporate. Two spoonfuls and her cheeks were puffed out again. Three trays worth of food filling them. Three women's worth of nutrition.

It was almost stomach turning for the whispy women sat closeby. The sheer excess of it all. Sauce stained her mouth and lips, a tiny amount oozing out of the corner of her pouted lips. This animal's powerful, churning mastication decimated it all. The table screeched against the floor, Vásquez bent the frame as she shifted. Her gut was more distended than before, abdominal muscles stretched and bulging, forcing the hanging, tented fabric to turn up slightly, sat on the middle of her bloated abs. "You unloyal fucks don't deserve anything."

She went to the next table and the canteen continued watching. She didn't sit this time. She stooped low and snatched up a tray. Lifting it to her lips, tilting a corner to her open, cavernous mouth, she used the spoon to guide the food straight into her. She barely chewed this time, swallowing the slurry of flavours down. Then the next tray. And the next. And the next. Stunned silence. This horrid act of greed and gluttony taking place right there, no one doing anything to stop it,  like they were collectively watching a train derailing. Blue plastic trays were in a jumbled pile in the middle of the table. Vásquez moved towards the next table. You could hear a pin drop in there. You could actually hear Vásquez's stomach gurgling, overburdened.

She couldn't keep going, right? But she would, picking up another tray. Jennifer realised she was going to do this at every fucking table. Every tray. Every meal. She'd eat all of it just to spite the other gang. If one person would set out to do  something so insane, and fucking go through with it, it was her. There were zero doubts from the blondie. She'd fucking do it.

She didn't get the chance. A bark of laughter sliced through the massive hall, and heads swiveled to Maria whose eyes were bright with an excitement bordering hysteria. In an instant the weird hypnosis of the canteen was shattered.

The violence Jennifer had feared arrived in a landslide of bodies. K13 members swarmed over Vásquez like piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Lobos were hard on their heels pouring in from the sides in waves of orange. They crashed against the Nation, who hurried to the aid of their new allies. A maelstrom of chaos swept the canteen, pulling bodies in and pushing others against the walls. The chow line broke like flotsam as inmates turned against one another, gang allegiances trumping logic.

Red lights flashed and a claxon shrieked. Jennifer finally moved, pressing herself against the wall, trying to make herself small. Something too small to be identifiable sailed over her shoulder, trailing an arc of blood. Her heart blasted in her ears, almost as loud as the claxon.

A spearhead of Lobos drove into the heart of the hoard, inching towards their champion. In the boiling ocean of orange Jennifer picked out Vásquez. Three inmates clung to her back and arms trying, with equal futility, to bring her down. She clubbed at them, crumbling bodies like ragdolls almost as fast as they swarmed. The lobos gained ground, rallying to Vásquez as though she were a banner planted on a battlefield.

A K13 member emerged from the milling horde, hard eyes locked on Jennifer. The woman’s sharp smile made it clear she saw Jennifer as a trophy to show her friends when the dust had settled. An uppercut that would have sent Jennifer sprawling the month before breezed past her face, her body moving of it's own accord. Her fist swung in reply, a clumsy arc that clocked the woman in the face, sending her back into the orange sea.

Jennifer moved towards a gap in the melee but fingers ensnared her, grabbed at her ankle. A plimsoll came loose as she fell to the ground, air knocked out of her lungs. She kicked at the arm and face of whoever held her and was amazed when there was suddenly nothing holding her back. She crawled frantically for the doors, for sanctuary. They swung open before she reached them, metal handles hammering the walls. She almost cried out in happiness as she saw Trish ducking in. The beautiful, tall, amazonian, statuesque woman looked heroic, stood imposingly in the doorway. Bathed in flashes of red light, her skin was tinted sepia. Jessica followed behind her, mirroring her need to duck under the door. They looked amazed by the war raging in the hall. Huddles of people battling, inmates jumping off of tables, people stabbing each other with plastic cutlery, tearing, punching and kicking.

Trish couldn't hear Jennifer screaming for her. She and Jessica plunged into the chaos, immense valkyries swooping into battle. Jennifer's stomach fell into her single plimsoll, they were headed for Vásquez.

Inmates were pushed aside like chaff as the two amazon’s strode towards their target. But the wolves reached Vásquez before they did. The wall of K13 members began to crumble. With a vicious flick of her arm Vasquez sent one of her attackers soaring over the crowd.

Putting her lower body strength to use, Trish got low, coiling up like a snake and launched forwards. She tackled Vásquez, wrapping arms around her legs and squeezing, pushing back. Both women crashed into a wall of bodies, sending a half dozen to the ground. The latina looked shocked for a moment, unsure of what could generate that much force. She smiled when she understood. Jessica followed them both, vaulting Trish and throwing a hook at Vásquez.

The latina would have gone down but the bodies around her kept her upright. She spat blood at Jessica, pivoting. Swinging her weight around,  she forced Trish to the side. A backhanded fist whizzed through the air at Jessica. It was blocked but still made the woman wheel back, the impact unstoppable. A group of Lobos filled the gap, splitting Jessica from the other two women and letting Vásquez focus on her one attacker. She hooked her arms around Trish and dropped her weight down on the woman, splaying her legs out. Trish couldn't hold up the weight and went down, under Vásquez.

Jennifer had abandoned escape, pushing through the walls of inmates, trying to stop the clash between people she cared about.

Tear gas dropped from the sky, plumes of red smoke making pillars in the canteen. Adrenaline made everything slow. Cans languidly dropping through the air, punches crawling towards targets. When the canister hit the ground it felt deafening.

The fighting went on in the mists as riot guards arrived, beating a rhythm into their shields, a medieval rally to lift spirits. Jennifer had to be pulled from the smoke, sputtering, crimson eyes weeping. The fighting largely dispersed the tear gas burning people's eyes. In the centre the fight was still going.

Actual tears oozed out of Jennifer's inflamed, stinging tear ducts when Trish emerged, stumbling out, hacking coughs. She was apprehended by guards and shoved down.

Yelling within the smoke gave a sign that there was still scraps of fighting. A riot shield skidding across the floor and a black clad guard coming tumbling over a table were evidence. Vásquez was going strong, King Kong refusing to go down.

Eventually, even she would be restrained with the rest of the inmates.

Chapter 11: G37 Trial - Week 5 Aftermath by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Okay, I've had a ton of fun writing week 5. Probably too much fun. I PROMISE this is the last week 5 chapter!

Tasers buzzed, angry wasps, stinging and nipping at Vásquez as guards herded her through the halls. She was still painfully full, stomach having deflated only a small amount since her wordless statement earlier in the canteen.

Tear gas had cut her fun short, making the entire ordeal more annoying than it had needed to be. She felt like the climax of the event had been robbed, pulled out from under her. Fighting Trish and Jessica. A present tied up in a neat, little bow that she'd never had a chance to unwrap.

Trish was one of the few people outside of Lobos that Vásquez had any respect for. A strong fighter, who didn't take shit. Someone who had a scrap of honour in a world that lacked it. Fuck, they might have been friends if she wasn't in the Nation... The fact that she'd resorted to double teaming her had initially annoyed Vásquez, striking her as cowardly. Quickly, she accepted the fact and turned it into a plus. Two for the price of one, right? After all, who could really take her one on one now anyway?
Blinking rapidly, squinting, trying to stop the burning in her sore, red eyes, Vásquez carefully traced her steps through the corridor. An outstretched hand on one wall told her where she was. The path was a familiar one, one she'd taken so many times that she could do it blindfolded. Or blinded by tear gas.

Isolation. Or as some called it, the hot box.

A tiny, concrete cube that drove people to madness. Heavy steel would lock behind you and you'd be stuck in a timeless, humid, oven of a void. At six foot one it had been cramped. Vásquez couldn't imagine how fucking annoying it would be at her current size.

An eye cracked open just in time for the latina to put a hand up and avoid headbutting the wall above the aforementioned steel door. Waves of heat spilled out from the room, already encouraging perspiration on her abs and chest. A groan left her as multiple tasers jabbed into her broad back. The groan swelled into a growl, Vásquez kicked backwards like a mare. She connected with someone, one of the tasers disappearing as a guard launched away, loudly clattering along the floor. The shouting grew more desperate, bringing a smile to the blind giant's face.

It was short lived though and she stooped down, doubling over, knowing that resistance would just cause more tasering. Her face and upper body entered the wall of suffocating humidity as her ass jammed in the frame. Riot shields crashed into her from behind, a bid to force her into the room faster. This position meant her legs pressed against her bloated stomach as she wriggled, making her queasy. Relief only came when she was fully forced in, able to straighten her body again. Well, not completely, but enough to breath. Once inside it became obvious just how much this would suck. The cell was mini-fucking-scule. That didn't stop the guard's slamming the door closed behind her, a heavy 'chunk, chunk' signifying the twin locks being slid closed over it.
Standing in the isolation cell was like being back with an old friend she hadn't seen in a while. However, she'd quite literally outgrown her old friend. By a lot. Vásquez felt like a sardine, flesh packed into a tin, locked down tight. She ran fingers over the rough texture of the ceiling that her head was pressed against. Against the walls. She felt how close it all was. How small the room was. How fucking big she was. She adored it.

She was so fucking big. Colossal. Gargantuan. Being back in this room, being able to draw comparisons to her six foot one self, it really ground home just how huge she'd gotten. All the space she'd had back then was a distant memory, consumed by her own bulk. It was a tear in space and time, framing her transformation. It was perfect.

Before, at six-one, she'd felt big, taller than basically any woman she'd met and tall enough that most guys even looked small. True, there had been some men that could make her feel less big. Week by week that had changed though. She hadn't tracked her size with numbers all that much, instead preferring to compare herself to other people. To guzzle down the reactions and expressions when she grew. To see the wonderment and fear. The shock and awe. Even the pure lust from one particular person. Seeing how fucking puny they became next to her, how puny the world was becoming around her...

It was intoxicating. She wanted more. More size and more power. She wanted to be unstoppable in the truest sense of the word. At nine foot three, she'd tasted that. So large that people just stopped and stared as she took what she wanted. So giant that when she stood in a room the ceiling looked low. Even the walls around her had to submit. She thought back to the observation room. How the ceiling had crumbled and cracked from a single punch.

The walls quaked suddenly, someone outside yelped. Fuck that felt good. This room wasn't as flimsy as the previous one but pounding a fist into the concrete was cathartic. Her fist ached dully.

Hazel eyes opened a slither. The tear gas was a pain in the ass, effects continuing to burn her blood shot, itchy eyes. For the first time she looked around at the tiny space and herself filling it. She saw how the gray wall had a fist sized dent in it. The smile faded as she looked further down.

"Aw, what the fuck." Vásquez whispered to herself, pulling on her vest, examining the blood stains. Was that her blood or someone else's? Or both...
Stretching the material, searching for more blood, she eyed the spatter. It was probably someone else's, she decided, sighing. Clothing options had shrunk (hah) while she'd grown. Maybe she should be more cautious getting into brawls. Letting the vest drop from her fingers, she noted how it stuck to her moist skin. Sweat was already collecting in droplets, rolling along copper, the narrow space holding heat more efficiently than anywhere else in the prison.

Vásquez did a 180, barely able to turn, needing to shimmy around in two half turn motions. Leaning against the back wall, she attempted to sit. She'd done it a hundred times before, but the experience was different this time. Her toes pressed against the walls on either side of the steel door, knees coming up to frame her face and press into her gut and tits. Great.

The shorts felt like they were on the cusp of exploding clean off, her hips straining the material, too wide in this position. Each hem of the short legs dug into her girthy thighs. Testing the fabric, she slowly flexed. The stitches creaked out a warning with hardly any flex at all, and she stopped. Then her eyes were drawn higher, along the caramel highway of her leg.

"What the fuck?" Her voice filled the space. Delicately she used thumb and forefinger to pick pieces of beige plastic from her leg, just above the knee. Someone had stabbed her with a fork. "A fucking fork?" She laughed, dropping each of the four prongs into her other, awaiting palm. They looked so small in her hand, tiny, off white lines in the pinkish, wrinkled landscape. Blood had only just been drawn by the plastic, the rest of the fork being snapped away. No doubt, her leg was already slowly healing. This G37 stuff was a trip.

She'd noticed it after the fight with the Aryans in the bathroom. The bruises and cuts faded quickly, repaired at a frightening pace. It wasn't just size she was gaining from the serum. It all further fed into that sensation of being an untouchable juggernaut.

Using her thumb she rubbed the tiny prongs along the calloused, hard skin near her fingers. Lifting weights still left it's mark even if she did heal more rapidly. Turning her hand over, the splinters of plastic fell to the ground. Or more accurately, onto her stomach, rolling down along her crotch and then somewhere onto the ground she couldn't see. She was way too big for this room.

A quiet thud was emitted by her head hitting the wall. Vásquez stared at the ceiling, a hand resting on her gurgling stomach. It had been hilarious eating all that food in front of those tiny jue putas. They'd made such pathetic expressions. All too afraid to move. She closed her eyes and pictured them one by one. If Maria hadn't laughed how many more trays could she have gotten through? Would those K13 bitches have woken up by themselves?

Eyes closed was so much better. The sting, a quiet throb instead of a burn. Muffled shouting outside threatened to throw her train of thought off. Isolation was, understandably, busy today. Trish sassing the guards was very audible. So was her angry scream when someone tasered her. Pffft, serves her right for trying that shit.

Vásquez tuned it out, reclaiming the rails for that train of thought. Drowning out the sounds of a scuffle outside, thoughts returned to Maria. Things had been off with her recently. Nothing obvious but, a minor difference. Almost indistinguishable. She could tell though.
Ever since the whole bathroom thing Maria had been giving more orders. Usually, she'd ask her right hand, but now she was demanding. A different tone. Subtly different words. It didn't change how the large latina acted at all but she picked up on it. Of course, she'd still do whatever Maria asked. The older woman was the blueprint for badass.

The sole female general in the Lobos. A fucking legend back home. She'd taken charge of the capital city, ruling that shit with an iron fist. Cracking down on the other gangs, driving them to extinction, she paved the way. Her past was stained in blood. An ocean of it. Looking at Maria from a distance, seeing the crows feet around her eyes and stress lines on her tan skin, you could be deceived into thinking she was just another middle aged latina. That was wrong. If she was looking at you, interacting with you... You'd realise she'd happily carve your eyes out if you got in her way. It was just an aura about her.

Maria was already dominating the city when Vásquez had entered the gang. Once brought to the woman's attention, she saw her potential immediately. Maria became an older sister, guiding and helping her through everything that had come afterwards. She was the sole reason Vásquez was here. When Maria was locked away her second in command had gone straight to the US, confessing to a handful of murders. Taking a plea deal to avoid the death sentence, she followed her boss straight into prison.

The titan gathered her thoughts, struggling to pinpoint just what she had done to piss off the older woman. There was no way this was all because of blondie. Maria was crazy, driven to use and manipulate people, all for power. Being bent out of shape like this over blondie? No way. She knew Vásquez was loyal, didn't she? Nah, no, something else must be -

Smith's voice cut through steel like a knife through butter. Vásquez's eyes snapped open. That slimy, little prick was outside, talking to the guards. She ran a hand over her much more svelte abs. Most of lunch had been digested away in the nuclear reactor called her stomach.

Vásquez stared at the metal block that passed for a door in front of her. It opened outwards. Architects were forced to make it that way, the tiny space too small for the door to open inwards.
Yeah, fuck it. She could do it. She wanted out. Now. This room was way too fucking small, and although it might have been able to hold her before... Well, let's see if it could handle her now.

Planting her soles against the warm metal, Vásquez prepared for a show. She gave a few short breaths and then pushed. The hem of the shorts burst, spliting up her legs as they engorged, overwhelmed by the surge. But it wasn't just her legs pushing. It was everything. Her entire body. She'd even leveraged her arms up, palms to the back wall.

At first nothing happened. However, the pressure on the door grew... And grew.... And grew. Vásquez tapped into every well of strength in her body.
The metal gave an ominous sound. Smith and the guard outside stopped talking, both shifting their attention to the isolation cell.

The door bulged in the middle, nuts and bolts wailing in pain and the two locks stretched along the door horizontally, buckled and bent. There was that awe Vásquez loved to see.

A grunt echoed out, the inmate somehow pushing even harder. Her laughter, escaping the hotbox, triggered a dormant PTSD in Smith and suddenly he knew exactly what was going on. "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" Smith screamed at the guard. The slack jawed guard was still too slow to piece together what was happening. It was just too unbelievable. Yet, he forced himself to obediently jump into action.

Smith's head throbbed, veins emerging on it's smooth red surface. Her breaking out was, for some reason, worse than him being coerced into opening the door. The guard struggled to pull the mishapen oblongs of steel across the door to unlock it. The force pushing outwards pinned the metal together, making it impossible. Smith hurried over, desperately pulling with him, but it was pointless. Light started seeping through the gaps around the metal door, steel bending in ways that shouldn't be possible, moving further away from the frame it should have sat in. Smith screamed for the latina to stop, on the verge of begging. He told her they were opening the door. He told her she could stop.

Pressure relented and both men fell forwards, the door creaking back into shape slightly. It took a moment to unhinge the locks, their new shape not lending to a smooth sliding movement. The deformed door swung open, fire escaping from inside. A smug, sweaty giantess filled their vision. She shot a smile to Smith. His stomach fell as he realised that even sat like this, she was eye level with him. "About time." She said, reaching up to curl her fingers around the top of the door frame.
She hauled herself forwards, rising up and out of the room, forcing the two men back. "Gym time." She stated from above a canopy of tit that only half hid her lofty expression.

Smith looked distraught. Shoulders sagging, a broken man coincided. "Come on.  Let's go."

Chapter 12: The start of the end by Kokoji

Since the riot in the canteen, a heat wave had scorched the prison. The sun beat down, an angry eye burning the dirt and everything on it, relentless. Mother nature was working along a coincidental parallel. With the heat, came enflamed tensions, skirmishes breaking out like a rash across the prison. Cell block B as a whole was an open, raw nerve. Any slight, no matter how small, could start a brawl. A brawl that could mutate into a battle. A battle that could develope into a riot. Guards were on edge, even more brutal, ready to shut things down before they could even start.

All commerce between gangs had halted, drugs and contraband a second thought to survival. The battle lines had been drawn and now a clock was ticking down, sands running through the hourglass, counting down to the bloody climax.

Not even the guards were safe.

Jackson was sweating through his uniform, heat, humidity and stress becoming a trifecta of bodily response. He walked stiffly, doing his best not to run. Eyes burned into his back as he hurried down the corridor. A laugh floated along the tiles, following him. "Where you going?" Echoed behind it.

Fuck, she was close. She was so fucking big now that unless he was sprinting she could keep up with nothing more than a walk. She already knew the answer to her question. He was heading to the bathrooms. The showers. It was the only thing at the end of this corridor. A dead end. The only place he could go.

A tactical error?

He walked in, checking under the stalls for anyone inside. Showers hissed deeper into the cavernous room, signalling that he wasn't alone.

A monstrous form filled the doorway, stealing his attention away. Dark hair came into view as she forced her curves through the door.

"H-hey, wait. We... There's people in here someone -" A hand engulfed the bottom of his face, powerful arm swinging him around and sending him crashing through a stall door. He landed on the toilet, teetering on the edge before he righted himself. Sat there, even lower, even smaller before the mountain that followed after him, he watched.

His eyes widened as her huge hips filled the cramped stall, her shoulders cutting off light almost as well as the stall door would have. That blue, flimsy door closed, lock chunking into place. They were encased in this tiny box, so close to him that he could smell her floral perfume. "Please, j-just wa-" Again, his words were cut short, his cap soaring into the air as it was slapped off. Long fingers gripped a fistful of hair, his head cranked back.

Pink, soft, full lips met his. Jessica let out a moan, eyes closed as she enjoyed her conquest. She was fresh off her most recent dose, skin still tingling as the hormonal high lingered. It always made her ravenous. Food or sex, both appetites became bottomless.

As soon as the 7'1 hourglass returned to gen pop, Jackson felt the crosshairs on him. He'd tried not to make a scene as he excused himself for a smoke break. Jessica was like a succubus, libido out of this world, demanding and oh, so fucking hot. Curves that were something straight out of some teenagers fantasy. Logic defying. Gravity defying. Abundant. The cup literally overfloweth. Bra cups as well as the metaphorical cup of Jackson's sexual drive. He couldn't keep up with the insatiable woman, struggling to satisfy her. It was doubly difficult given that their relationship was bound to secrecy.

Multiple times a day he'd disappear from his shift to be fucked into oblivion. Returning to his post, battered, uniform a mess and exhausted. He was actually kind of amazed his dick could handle it. His hips and pelvis were becoming bruised from the immense power coming down on him. Flesh and bones being tenderised over and over by the increasingly large woman.

Yet even with all the battery and stress of being caught, just seeing her got his engine running. She'd conditioned him like Pavlov's dog. She was the dinner bell.

Their teeth smacked against each other, Jessica wildly forcing more of her thicker, longer tongue into his mouth. Jackson let out a whimper of a moan, hips thrusting subconsciously, dick pressed against the zipper of his uniform. After every dose she came back bigger, she treated him rougher, and she was more in control. He'd previously tried to wrestle a semblance of power back but it had become impossible two doses ago. Following the current of the river was the only way not to be drowned by it. At this point her overwhelming him, taking control, being dominant... It all just turned him on more. Precum was leaking out of his sore dick as the tongue in his mouth bullied his, a testament to that point. He could hardly breath. She was driving and he was a horny passenger blessed to be on the ride.

The giantess broke the kiss, extracting her organ and leaving only saliva connecting them for a brief second. Jackson breathed, panting "Y-you smell so fucking good." Shockingly, he managed a whole sentence. "What perfume is that?"

Jessica laughed, playing with the brown tuft of hair in her fingers. "Dude, I'm in prison. I don't have perfume."  She ran her zipper down along her overalls, revealing milky, creamy, tantalising skin. She didn't even have to zip it all the way down. Passed a certain point the burgeoning curves packed into the red forced it down. The material opened like a hungry mouth, copper zipper catching on the nubs of her pink, puffy nipples. She was naked underneath? A tsunami of saliva filled his mouth, the dinner bell resonating in his head, deafening. Her answer was lost in his frontal lobe, more primal thoughts taking centre stage.

Leaning in, swallowed by the floral, musty sent, his lips met silk. Even with her higher body fat compared to the other trial subjects Jessica still had two pillars of abs, a trio of lines framing the muscles. Jackson peppered them with kisses, working lower as his hands went up into the overhanging masses above. He didn't know what cup size the watermelons overhead were but, frankly, he didn't care. All he knew was that his hands were undersized for the task. That didn't stop him. Fingers kneaded tit, thumb flickering over a nipple, releasing it from the fabric prison. Jessica shivered, giggling at the tingles that radiated along her nerves. She kept her grip on the brown joy stick of hair and gently pulled Jackson up.

He was presented with a nipple, erect, solid and awaiting stimulation. Lips eagerly clamped to the tit, tongue dancing as he sucked. She almost buckled, leaning her weight onto the smaller man. Reaching down, biceps pushing her tits together, she went for his belt.

Dexterity and practice let her unbuckled it without looking. She dug a hand into the denim and stroked the long, diamond hard member hidden inside. She and Jackson had been fucking on and off for months. It all started one weekend where she teasingly brushed her chest against him. When she saw the outline form in his jeans she'd been taken by surprise. He was fucking hung.

His big, scary monster was much more manageable now though. Instead, her dripping, hungry, voracious cunt was the monster. Her vulva flexed at that thought, head rolling back she gave a guttural groan. God, it was fun being in charge. Knowing she could pin the big guard down and ride him for as long as she wanted. He'd plead to be let go eventually, to go back to his post before someone got suspicious. She could keep him there all fucking day of she wanted. Thick juices seeped into red overalls, darkening the fabric. Fuck, she needed this NOW.

Jackson's shoulders hit the porcelain as he was pushed away. "Off." She said, pointing to his uniform and flicking the finger away. The guard frantically did as told, never taking his eyes off of the Goddess before him. She shrugged off the overalls, shimmying them down her expansive hips. That scent grew more powerful, sending Jackson's cock spasming, bouncing free. A rope of precum caught the light as it arched to splat on his thigh.

Jessica loomed closer, and in a moment, she straddled him, knees pressing against the stall walls, forcing them to flex around her. She lowered herself, ass swallowing the man. Using a hand to guide him, she brought his cock closer. Nectar spilled over the pulsing rod before his swollen, crimson tip even touched her. She rubbed him up and down her starved pussy, slathering him in her sex. Heavily, she brought her weight down on him, taking almost his entire length in one go. He grunted into the wall of tit his face was submerged in, her scent and the feel of her against him making his head spin. Two sweaty bodies undulated together.

Jessica gripped the tops of the stalls, lifting herself and crashing down, mingling pain with pleasure for the guard. Her pussy lips swelled, engorging and greedily gobbling up even more dick. Every. Single. Millimeter. She wanted it all.

He helplessly grabbed onto her hips, pale ass cheeks filling his hands. She rose again, another meteorite barrage inbound. Her muscles gripped him tighter, hauling him skywards too. His ass lifted from the lid of the toilet, which clattered noisily, stuck to his thighs due to the heat. Jessica came down like a blacksmith's hammer, knocking the air from his lungs and taking his length in deeper. The toilet cracked, unable to handle the impact. Then again, truthfully, neither could Jackson, his lanky body being turned to mulch day by day. No one had taken his entire dick like this in his life, so sacrificing his body was a small price.

She sped up, a rhythm forming. Jackson couldn't do anything besides cling on, grit his teeth and try to balance on the edge of orgasm. He tried to hold on. "Oh f-fu-I-I'm-" Between thrusts he could barely get words out. Going rigid, the guard gasped, cumming against gravity into the woman. She sensed his premature orgasm and tutted. They weren't done yet. They weren't stopping until she was fucking satisfied.

Her folds milked him, sucking every drop from the man as continued using him. Amazingly he didn't go soft. As if her vice grip was stopping it.

It was a mind numbing pleasure which made Jackson's toes curl and his eyes roll. Succubus black magic. The scent swirled in his mind. Her scent. It grew more powerful until finally the dam burst and Jessica pulled Jackson's limp body into an embrace. She held him, cocooned in tit and ab and arms as she rode the wave, grinding him into the toilet, keeping that same rhythm.

Until she was done.



Jennifer was laid out in the yard looking up at the blue sky, praying for cool, refreshing droplets to come down and end the heatwave. It was a silly notion but Jennifer clung onto the hope that the rain ending the heat wave would also bring an end to the insanity in her cell block.

She hadn't been able to talk or even see Trish since the riot in the canteen. The infirmary had been bursting with injured inmates and a lock down was started. The three giant women in the middle of the chaos had emerged mostly unharmed. Some bruises here and there, a cut lip, a black eye and a handful of stab marks was all that remained by the next day. Even the tear gas seared eyes were fine. There were rumours that they'd put the three inmates into isolation, but Smith had intervened, pulling the puppet strings. Another, less likely, rumour was that Vásquez had been too big to fit in the isolation room. Once locked in, she'd broken the door down.

Studying the one whispy, pale cloud in the sky, Jennifer internally laughed at the idea that Vásquez could have done that. She'd been in isolation once and the door to the hot box had been almost as thick as her hand stretched out. How on earth could anyone break that?

A shadow enveloped her. "Are you okay?" An accented voice asked, laced with a deep perplexion.

Sitting up, Jennifer looked to Selina, shading her eyes with an arm, stopping the sunlight behind the woman from being absolutely blinding. "I'm fine."

"I thought that you were dead." Laughed Selina. A yawn had to be stifled before the next question. "Why are you laying here?"

"I'm just taking a break from working out. I'll go back soon." Jennifer nodded to the Lobos in the yard. A large shape overshadowed the group, a mountain on the horizon.

"Ah, okay. It's just that, most people relax in the shade..." Selina looked around. "Although, now that I look, I see none."

Jennifer let out a short laugh. Muscles shifted under her tight t-shirt as she got to her feet, standing over Selina. The olive skinned woman gave a whistle. "You've done some more growing, no?" She chuckled elbowing the blonde in the side. "Is hanging out with the giant rubbing off on you?"

Selina's over average 5'9 would have seemed huge to Jennifer a while ago. Her proud grin was far above that though. Regular work outs, less latina tax on her food, and fewer injuries, had let her growth flourish. She was almost 6'5 now, standing much, much closer to Trish and Jessica's heights last week. She was gaining on the amazonians, loving the race for more size. It was actually interacting with people outside of the programme that really highlighted the size change to Jennifer. People were starting to seem small, giving her a feel of... Superiority. It felt arrogant thinking it but she really did just feel bigger and better than those around her. Like she'd transcended normal people. Jennifer wouldn't let her ego grow out of check though, she was still her, just as Vásquez had said. Maybe if she just had more confidence then she'd be able to put her body to use and defend herself.

Some situations were still unwinnable. Even if some guards seemed puny now, that wasn't a fight she wanted to have. Her size was a double edged sword in that regard. On one hand, she could take a baton blow better. On the other, the guard's were much faster to give a knee jerk reaction to anything she did. Especially with the current climate.

"I guess so." Jennifer replied. "It's for sure helped with working out." Curling an arm, she proudly showed off her shirt straining bicep. It was between the size of a large orange and a grapefruit, the white material squeaking around it.

The smaller woman looked genuinely surprised by the muscle. "Well, that... Looks good." She shook her head, "God, she really is rubbing off on you, isn't she? How has she been? How have you two been?" That was a loaded question. One building on their last conversation.

The intense heat wave coupled with more frequently spending time outside had toasted Jennifer cheeks a light tan colour. A light tan colour which was now slightly tinted with a different warmth. The sun, baking the two women, made the moments between question and answer seem like eternity. "She's good. She's been, um, kind of quiet. Y'know, besides helping with working out." Jennifer worded the response carefully, picking words and facts, shying away from any emotional description or tone. Her body betrayed her further, face growing more red.

As if to spite her, a roar of a laugh came from the mountain over at the weights. Selina turned to the noise, Jennifer following her gaze. Through a half yawned came, "well, it seems that she is loud over there." A twist of the knife in Jennifer's side. "Soooo," Selina poked an ab, "she's just being quiet with you?" There was a sincere curiousity in the question, but also just a hint of a cunning, gossip hungry sparkle in her brown eyes. She was scanning Jennifer, reading her.

The added heat in her face intensified under the scrutiny. It was easy to underestimate Selina due to her lathargic demeanour, but holy shit she could have been a detective or a journalist. Jennifer sighed, caving in. "I don't know..."  She confessed, shaking her head. "I don't know how to feel about it. About everything."

Selina's expression softened and her devilish prying ended.  She gripped Jennifer's hand in her own, squeezing gently. "I can understand that, mija." Empathy. As rare in the penitentiary as water was in their surroundings. "There's a lot going on right now... For everyone." A smile returned then. "But hey, at least you finally believe me now." She winked languidly, eyes moving at a sloth's pace.

"I didn't say that!" Jennifer tried and failed to feign ignorance, pulling her hand away.

Selina wagged a finger. "Stop pretending." She chided teasingly. "You did not need to say anything, 'blondie'. I can see it." She tapped close to her eye, grin shining.

A string of numbers reeled off by a guard startled the two women. The guard waited, eyes behind a pair of aviators, watching. Selina looked back to her guinea pig friend, "I have been summoned." She shrugged, turning to leave, continuing over her shoulder. "There is only one person that can give you the answer you want!"

"Who said I have a question?" Jennifer barked back.

Selina scoffed, "denial again? Really?"

Wiping the sweat off of her brow, Jennifer watched the woman be led away. Across the yard another set of eyes were watching too. Their thoughts intersected. 'I wonder when my next dose is?'

Mulling those parting words over, Jennifer decided that her break had been long enough. She approached crescent of women crowded around Vásquez. Regular sized women looking like children, staring in wonderment as the latina lifted mystifying amounts of iron. She was easily visible over their heads. Most came to her hips, only a few reaching near her navel. The crowds had grown around Vásquez as her body did. Ill fitting clothes added to the spectical, having shrunk around her ever growing form. The frayed shorts looked like an unconventional thong, only the elastic waist fitting well while the material around her legs had been torn and split. The vest was a curtain of a boob tube now, her entire midriff cooled by the air as the swell of two orbs were partially visible as underboob. The triple dose resulted in a more aggressive passive growth as well. Trish, Jessica and Jennifer were growing an inch or so a day. Vasquez was bloating bigger faster. Much faster. She'd been complaining about her joints hurting and itching but Jennifer knew she was secretly enjoying the signs of even more rapid expansion.

The blonde couldn't imagine how surreal it must be growing so much so fast. It was staggering to think of, but the titanic beast was almost into the double digits now. She stood at 9'9. From that immense height it must have been hard to stay grounded. Jennifer battled with her ego but Vásquez must have had an uphill struggle to keep her own in check. To the latina's credit, she didn't treat those close to her too differently. Her enemies weren't so lucky.

She'd been increasing the pressure on K13 specifically, offended that they'd sided with the nation. Despite being granted a sickening number of calories by Smith, she was still supplementing her diet with stolen meals from the other gang. She'd just pluck the tray right out of someone's hands from above and empty the whole contents into her mouth. If anyone retaliated they'd be crushed into dust before their comrades could rally help.

It wasn't just food though. Vásquez was single handedly cutting people down, sending swathes of women to the infirmary. Humiliating women, making them beg, torturing them. Just this morning she'd crashed the showers and devasted a dozen women at once. She'd used someone's face to get off too, grinding them against her body. The ultimate humiliation... There was still a little jealousy in Jennifer.

Bicep curls were a cover for the blonde. A way to look busy as she stared, hypnotised as usual by the chiseled woman. Bending down, Vásquez gripped not one, but two barbells. Two Olympic bars, parallel to each other, stacked with as much weight as they could hold. She puffed her chest out, straightening her back, exhaled, inhaled and stood. The bars lagged behind her, bending as her strength countered gravity. The sagging, humpback bars hauled the weights from the ground and Vásquez stood tall. The giantess shook her head, frowning and muttering in Spanish. She dropped the bars, not bothering to lower back down. The curved group of women wobbled as the weight thundered to earth.

Vásquez spoke, pointing to some of the women. At first Jennifer didn't grasp what was happening. Four women peeled away from the group. It was only when they each sat on one of the stacks of weight that it clicked. It wasn't heavy enough. The massive woman was improvising.

The prison watched, inmates, gang members, guards, all amazed as Vásquez continued her set. The four Lobos grabbed onto the weight or bar, anything to help stabilise them. They started laughing, on a carnival ride.

There was more care when Vásquez lowered the bars this time. She gently set them down, making sure that no one was injured. Once everyone was safe she cracked a smirk. "Even the fucking bar couldn't handle the weight!" She hollered, cackling, gesturing to the barbells. They'd been so bent out of shape by a weight that exceeded their capacity that they were both permanently curved up to the point where Vásquez had held her grip.

She put the ball of her foot on one bar, toes curling and gripping the metal. The pressure gradually increased, her weight coming down and her leg flexing, bending the bar back into shape. Jennifer felt her brain stuttering, trying to comprehend just how strong Vásquez was at this point. Could she just bend the bars of the prison and leave?

The prospect of asking that woman why she was being quiet, as Selina had implied, felt far, far too dangerous. Jennifer thought about how the conversation would go and how it would ultimately result in her rejecting Vásquez's feelings. It would go that way, wouldn't it? It had to... Didn't it? Jennifer felt a familiar answer forming in her brain. She didn't know.

The rest of her workout felt off, thoughts plaguing her enough to keep her distracted. Frustrated, she called it a day, giving up on the lackluster workout and deciding to go shower. Vásquez caught her leaving and snapped her fingers at one of the Lobos. The silent command was obeyed, two women tailing Jennifer. This had been the new normal since the riot. Bodyguards. Just in case. The blonde gave a tight lipped smile to Vásquez, nodding in thanks. Butterflies rapidly beat their wings in her stomach. The large woman nodded back and returned to her improvised workout regime.

Emerging out of the showers, Jennifer was caught by surprise when a guard collected her for her dose. Excitement was dulled by fear as she remembered the triple syringe contraption. She still wanted her dose. Thirty seconds of discomfort and fear was worth it.

The guard led her to medbay, across the metaphorical line, between old, delapidated and new and clinical. Their path deviated to an office that Jennifer didn't know existed.

Smith was sat behind a wide, large, maple desk, in a tall, extravagant leather chair. The surface of the desk was buffed to a shine, tidy and neat, almost as if it were brand new.  Either Smith didn't work here often or he was meticulous with a cleaning routine.

"Take a seat." He said, waving a hand across the desk. Jennifer sat on a rickety, old, plastic chair, unable to get comfortable. "I'll get right down to business, Jennifer." He said, fake smile affixed. "I know you're scared of the new injectors. I was a little rude last week, but now I've taken that into consideration. You won't be getting a dose today."

"What?!" She sputtered, nose wrinkling as she shook her head. "N-no. I can do it. Honestly, I'm fine I ca-"

"Th-the matter has already been decided." He said, artifical emotions in his voice, faux sorrow in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I thought you would be happier opting out of the trial."


"No! I want to keep getting doses. I hate needles, but I can get over it. Let me get my dose!" Jennifer was frantic, suddenly an addict. She didn't want to miss a dose and let the size gap widen between her and the other test subjects. She was finally catching up. "Please, mister Smith, I can handle the needles, I'll-"

He held up a hand stopping the pleading. "I'm truly sorry, Jennifer." This time she picked up on it. The lie. Smith's act. A shiver ran through her, his act had seemed so human like. "We will get you back into the system for the next dose, but I'm afraid you've already missed out on the today's course."

Jennifer slumped in her seat. Something else was going on here. He'd called her to a random office on the other side of the prison just to tell her she wasn't getting her dose? Why go to all the effort? Why the show with the desk and the chair, like she was a peasant sat before a king? "So why am I here?"

Smith's gray, dead eyes looked alive for a moment. "Well, I had some complications in cancelling your dose. Each dose is wildly expensive! Understandably, we can't just dispose of it. That would be a waste." He leaned in, interlocking his fingers as he rested on the desk. "We have to give it to someone else in the trial." Jennifer's mouth went dry. What type of game was this? "This was all quite last minute, so unfortunately, Jessica and Selina have had their course for the day." Oh fuck. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see where this was going. "I just need your help deciding between Trish and Vásquez."

There it was.

Flames of anger licked at Jennifer. The whole world, Selina, Smith, even her own brain kept giving her this choice. She just wanted a distraction. A way to get away from the decision. "Why do you need me to help decide?" The question was bleeding contempt but the poker face didn't drop.

"Oh? I thought you'd want some say in where your extra inches would be going." He knew the position this put her in. This was just him being a dick, fucking with her because of last week.

Jennifer stood from her chair. "I'm not doing this. Give it to whoever." She wouldn't play the game, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of squrming. Rustling behind her told the blonde that the guard was moving towards her. Bracing for impact, she waited, but nothing came.

Smith had shot a glare over her shoulder, halting the man. He smiled back up to Jennifer. "Not a problem! I'm sorry for this big misunderstanding. I'll organise things so that you get your dose on Friday. Pembroke, take our esteemed subject back to general population."

Jennifer was flabbergasted, looking from Smith to the guard and then back. He was letting her go? That disgusting smile... She stared, letting her eyes hang on it, grasping for any understanding she could glean. His wrinkled face and sickly sweet, tight lipped smile gave nothing away. This may as well have been in a staring contest with a manequinn. Striding out of the room with a head full of steam, she brushed passed the guard, eager to get back to cell block B.



Red numbers flashed, showing Trish her new weight. The nation member had been crushing a 5 vs 1 basketball match when she'd been pulled out for her dose. Her default loss had been annoying but she'd been eager to get more G37. The chemical had been a whirlwind. After the first growth spurt she'd been excited, elated. What it had done was impossible. Stronger, taller, sexier. It was hard to deny how great it was. Then things became complicated. People acted different, attention was drawn to her and she felt like less of a person. Her sisterhood fell apart around her. Hatred replaced excitment, the changes corrupted.

The fight in the canteen flipped everything on it's head. Being smothered by Vásquez, even in a two on one situation was a wake up call. It didn't matter what people thought or how they acted. If she was going to fight the latina she needed to be bigger. What really amazed her was how her body reacted to the new drive. She started growing faster.

Sure she was stricter with the prescribed regime - sticking to protein and calorie intake and even exceeding it, working out harder, more often - but the way her body responded was astounding. She'd been neck and neck with Jessica last week, both 6'11 after the last dose, but since then she'd taken the lead, inching up to 7'2 even before her dose. Her legs had ballooned with power, becoming even more pronounced than they had been and her upper body was doing it's best to catch up. It was as if she were willing herself bigger.

Then she'd arrived here and was told she'd be getting a double dose. Zero indication of why, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The double dose magnified everything, forcing her body thicker and even more towering. Seven fucking foot and seven inches. The six inch gain had been her largest yet and the abrupt change left her shell-shocked. Everything looked tiny.

The appeal of size was coming back to her and now, looking at the crimson numbers, her lips stretched into a smile. She was closer to that bitch. One step closer to being able to kick her ass. Another thankful transformation was the boost to her boobage. Trish had been frustrated with her flat chestedness even after taking G37. It was an especially sore point when Jessica called her mosquito bites.

She'd inched into what was at least a D-cup now. Not much on her much larger frame, but enough. They weren't as breathtaking as her companions monster tits, but what could be? Then again, ol' monster tits could suffocate herself in her sleep if she wasn't careful, Trish mused.

The towering woman continued boring holes into the red digital readout. One step closer. One step at a time.



The last person called to medbay was the prodigal daughter herself. Vásquez. Right before dinner when the sun dyed the sky lilac and the temperature dipped, Smith sent for her. He leaned against an observation bed in medbay, waiting for the giantess, foot tapping.

He hadn't been able to deny her dose. Orders came from upstream, just as he'd predicted. They demanded more G37 be pumped into their star subject, even without the restraints to secure her. He was appalled by their blind quest to get results. Revenge wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily. The scheming began. Nothing he'd tried had worked thus far. Not guards roughing her up, nor threats to remove her from the programme, not isolation, nor even attempted murder. Mental warfare, physical warfare.... Nothing. His trump card, the triple dose, had blown up in his face fantastically. He needed to harness some devious creativity. Inspiration came when watching the beast working out in her outdoor cage. It was so obvious, looking him in the face for the past few weeks. A plan formed. One that he put into motion the moment the double doors opened and Vásquez squeezed her behemoth girth through.

"Good evening, Vásquez."

"Evening, tiny." She responded, smirking far, far down at the man from the ceiling. They'd extrapolated her height to sit at 9'6 by now. The algorithm needed calibrating again from the looks of things. Smith beeped his card on the reader and held a hand up to allow her through. "You better remember to up my calories this time." She grunted, passing him.

His eye twitched. Vásquez had learned that giving the man orders was the fastest way to enrage him. He refused to take the bait this time. In fact, it would slot nicely into his plan. "You can eat here in our canteen after the procedure."

"Tell 'em to start cooking." She laughed.

Smith's hands balled into fists at his side. He dove headlong into his scheme, ignoring her quip. "I've been told we've had some clothes dropped in for you. Tailored to your size after this next dose."

"Good." She responded sternly, a queen talking to her servant.

Smith blinked a few times and exhaled, remaining cool. "Well, they actually might be baggy. We'd planned to give you the dose Jennifer forfeited."

Vásquez stopped. Smith had to follow suit, knowing the guards wouldn't be able to force her forwards without chaos breaking out. "She did what?" The giant seethed.

Her response was perfect, cementing the weakness Smith had identified. "We assumed she wouldn't want it due to her reaction last week. Her fear of injections meant the new style of administering G37 complicated things. I had a meeting with her today and she was adamant that she could handle it. It was too late for us to slip her back into the system, of course. Paperwork." He shrugged. Nailing delivery was key to this next bit. "She did have an odd request though. She asked we give her dose to Trish and not you." The lie was masterfully laid out, yet Smith still felt his insides churning. Vásquez had a supernatural way of reading people. It was uncanny.

Not this time though. Shock distracted her, keeping her from studying him more closely. He saw it on her face. That expression. The confusion. The hurt. He bit back a smile so hard that a metallic taste filled his mouth. He checked his watch, making grand gesture of it. "Ah, I have a meeting I simply must attend to. I'll leave you with the guards to get your course for today." Ordinarily, being ignored would frustrate Smith, but right now the silence was blissful. Cogs continued slowly grinding in the huge oaf's head, trying to make sense of the information given to her. Turning, he walked away, shoes clicking all the way down the hall, a wide, wide smile on his face.

He practically skipped to his office once out of her eyeline. Plopping into the cushions, red leather creaking, sinking into comfort, stewing in his victory, he opened the top drawer of his desk. Extracting a tumbler, he poured a generous amount of an amber liquid into the crystal glass. This. This he deserved.


Hours passed. Dinner came and went. Everyone noticed the distinct lack in the canteen. No Vásquez. It left a void in the room. A void that a much, much larger Trish partly filled. All eyes were in her. Oddly, Trish found herself enjoying the attention. 'So she got the second dose,' Jennifer thought to herself.

The evening slipped away, Vásquez still not returning. Soon lock down was reinstated, Jennifer nibbled her lip, laid on her bunk facing the bars. Where was she? She'd periodically peer upwards, watching the clouds darken. Lights were cut, plunging the prison into darkness and still she waited. Flashes filled the sky, making Jennifer gasp, drawing her eyes skyward. Pitter pattering rain echoed through the halls, bouncing off of the concrete and wetting the dusty, dry soil outside. Relief flooded the prison, temperature finally falling.

Jennifer felt her worries ebbing away, silly thoughts from the morning coming back to the front of her mind. Hope filled her. Maybe this was the start of a new chapter in cell block B. An end to the cold War. A sign. Vásquez would be back soon enough, worrying about the invincible woman was pointless.

The 6'5 woman shuffled across the thin mattress, cramped in the narrow frame. She gripped that piece of hope tight, falling asleep thinking about it, praying for it, even dreaming of it.

Dawn rolled around, but black clouds meant the sunrise was dark. Metal against metal quietly grated as the bars slid open. A group of women slunk into the cell, a mass of silhouettes. A knife against her throat, a palm over her mouth, Jennifer awoke. Groggy, in the black she couldn't tell what was happening. Rachel's muffled grunts prickled her ears and she tried to sit up, tried to fight against the hands pushing her down. More hands joined them, restraining her. Someone got close to her face.

Cigarette smoke was the only scent she could pick up. A finger pressed to the lips of the shape in front of her. "Shhhhhh." The sound eased into a giggle. "Stay real fucking quiet, bitch." It was barely audible over the rain, over the thunder. Jennifer would know that voice anywhere. It sent chills cutting through her. A flash of lightning cracked the gray canvas of sky and Amber's smiling face was illuminated. The thunder masked the muffled screams.

Chapter 13: A headless snake can still bite by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Warning: Some graphic violence in this chapter. I tried not to be too descriptive but yeah...

Once again, I have to thank vman2000 for advice, and a guiding hand!

Rain pelted the walls of the penitentiary, heavy clouds obscuring the sun, keeping the world shrouded. Flashes of light brightened the sky, momentary memories of what morning should have been, a storm continuing to rage outside.

Jennifer's heart was jackhammering in her chest, threatening to burst free through her ribs. Her whole body was on fire, adrenaline flooding her blood stream and carving a hypersensitivity through her senses. Her eyes darted back and forth over the white walls, along white tiles and doors. They'd passed through medbay only a few minutes ago, descending into the labryinth.

This was premeditated. They'd been planning for this, waiting. Spying. They knew everything. The ID pass, Jennifer memorising the journey to the observation room, fuck, even about G37 being manufactured in house. Amber had made a point of snatching away the precious square of plastic before they left.

Before they left the only place Jennifer had a chance of being saved, the holding cells. She'd struggled in her bunk but was overpowered, Amber stuffing a wadded up gag into her mouth while the other women yanked her from her cramped bed. Jennifer had desperately tried to fight, to grab the bars, to wake someone but, between the thunder and the gag, no one had heard her. Wrestling through the halls, the larger blonde was like a lioness fighting off a pack of hyena. That was until Amber had gotten the knife to her throat. The cold metal was a silent warning.

In the dim holding cells she hadn't seen whatever it was now in her mouth, but God, it was repulsive. Jennifer keep fixating on it, trying to keep her tongue away from whatever it was. From the smell and the taste, she was certain that it was a worn piece of clothing. Maybe one of Amber's sweaty socks? No the feel was - fighting the urge to retch as best she could, she batted the thoughts away.

Motion sensor lights clinked alive, bathing the group in pale, white light. The group of hyena nipped at her heels, the aryans forcing her forwards. Hushed giggling and snickering made her hair stand on end. Amber was at the head of the pack, a handful of red overall tight in her left fist, shank to Jennifer's throat held in her right.

Six women. A small, agile group. They'd been able to sneak in, kidnapped her, do God knows what to Rachel and smuggle her into the classified wing. It had been seamless, not a single guard on their journey. They must have paid someone off, right? Some greedy asshole who had no idea what was to come. Who had no idea what their goal was.

Trying to breath, the gag shifted in her mouth and a fresh wave of nausea to hit. Bile rose in her throat, body flexing as she tried not to throw up. Blinking away the moisture in her eyes she gave a muffled cry, Amber digging the blade into her skin harder. "Which way?" She growled. They were at the end of a corridor. One that Jennifer knew was far, far from where they wanted to go.

Even with her size and strength advantage, she knew trying to fight against six women wasn't in the cards. She'd probably be brutilised and then dragged around as a bleeding husk of a GPS. Her resistance had been passive, misdirecting the vulture like women constantly. Burning time, praying that someone finds them. It was actually pretty easy to do considering how flustered she was. Right now her mind was fried, too panicked to make sense of the maze. The aryan wasn't happy with the fraction of a wait before an answer was given. Amber turned her blade, smashing the handle of the DIY weapon into Jennifer's temple. She actually felt her brain bounce off of her skull, vision blurring for a moment.

Tiptoeing, bringing her lips up to her hostages ear Amber sneered, "you might have gotten bigger but you're still the same lil' bitch." Anger focused Jennifer's consciousness. "You're gonna take us to that bullshit lab now. Stop playing games."

The 6'5 captive talked back into the saliva saturated material, pointing to her mouth. Amber rolled her eyes. She released the handful of overalls and hugged her body close, reaching around Jennifer's shoulder to pull the gag free.

Saliva sputtered out, dribbling out over Jennifer's chin. As the bundle of fabric had been extracted her eyes widened. It unfolded limply, separating and falling into three balls of lacey panties that splatted onto the floor. Her stomach turned. She heaved, not able to stop her body's response this time. Acidic vomit burned her throat as she puked against one wall. The group of women descended into fits of chittering laughter. "Aw, I flavoured them up just for you! I thought since you liked eating out that Mexican whore's snatch, you might wanna taste of some premium pussy!" The cackling grew in volume as Jennifer spewed harder.

A fist to the ribs sent her crashing against the wall. "Get over it, pussy. You should be thanking me. Come on, hurry up and -"

A foreign, inorganic beep resonated out and all heads turned to the automatic door that slid open. Nurse Jones strolled out, wearing jeans, a jumper and a denim jacket, airpods in ears.

The tiny woman froze solid as she turned to see the inmates all just as surprised as her. Reality slowed to a crawl for the nurse. Her mouth opened, vocal cords just beginning to vibrate as she ripped her body back towards the closing doors.

Amber was faster, lithe body leaping across the chasm. Her fingers ensnared the nurse's jacket, reeling her in like a fish. The knife welding hand slapped over her mouth, tip of the blade mere millimeters away from an ochre eye. The inmate back-pedalled, man-handling her away from any eyes that might have looked towards the sounds of a scuffle.

The group of women stared pensively at the door, waiting for another beep. The silence was ended by their leader. "Well, what do we have here?" She croned, happily. "A poor, widdle nurse who lost her way?" Amber said, baby talk sickening the green faced Jennifer further.

"Leave her alone." Barked the original hostage, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. That ship had already sailed.

The aryans found that more comical than anything. "Or fucking what?" The knife traced along the cheek of the frail woman, making a valley in the skin like a finger drawn across a cushion. Jennifer opened her mouth but the surrounding pentagon of women, knives drawn, forced it closed again. "That's what I fucking thought. Hey, nurse. Take us to that purple shit or I'll fuck you with this knife." Amber pushed, point breaking skin on curve of her cheek, a crimson droplet rolling along the blade. "Understand?"

Nurse Jones gave a half nod, not wanting the knife to cleave into her face further. So that was it. Unfortunate timing and a random set of turns had led them to the golden goose herself.

Their journey was short with the new navigator and soon they were back in a familiar room. One full of sleek looking machines, racks laden with bags of G37 and even the sinister looking injectors. Besides the inmates and nurse Jones, it was empty. Amber gave a low whistle. "Well, shit. You guys're starting a little lemonade stand with this stuff." She said, picking up a bag and looking into the purple liquid.

One of the other inmates strode over to an injector, lifting up the contraption. "Fuck, let's hook this shit up!" She giggled. No one expected the fist that crunched her nose like a stalk of celery. She hit the floor, kicking backwards in shock as Amber stole the injector away.

"No fucking way." The hyena's laughter had died swiftly. "This shit is mine."

"Amber, that wasn't the pla-"

"Fuck their plan!" She screamed. "I was chosen, so this is mine. Get it?"

"But it didn't work for you!" The stare that caused was murderous, making the woman nursing her nose falter. "I'm... I just..."

"She's right!" A new voice spoke. "S-she was chosen." Jennifer felt her insides shrivel up. Nurse Jones was speaking. Why? WHY was she speaking?! "The serum will kill you." She held up her hands, trying to somehow seem submissive and not be murdered by the pack of hounds salivating at the chance of gutting her. Her eyes flicked from one ayran to the other. "Look, i-it took weeks to introduce G37 to their system without them going into shock. If you just take a bunch of it now you'll die. I've... I've fucking seen it, okay?" Her bottom lip quivered at that last part and so many thing began to make sense to Jennifer. There was a reason she stepped it when Smith went for the triple dose. "The only people that here that could handle it are Amber and Jennifer. And even then - even if they did take it, it would have to be a calculated amount! If they take too much at once, they'll die too."

The pale woman looked ecstatic, pointing to the tiny woman. "See! If you take it you'll die!" Hearing only what she wanted to, she yanked her sleeve up and jammed the needles into her arm, hitting the injector, depressing all three needles in one go. One full dose emptied into her.

"But it didn't work for you before! Why would it now?" One of the other women cried, now distraught that their mission was for nothing. Amber had played them all, Jennifer realised. She'd told them they'd be an army of amazonian, when in reality, the greedy, power-hungry, size jilted woman actually wanted it all to herself.

She darted to one of the racks, "th-then I just need more!" She shrieked, stabbing a second set of needles into her arm draining purple into her blood stream.

"NO! No, that's not how this works! It's not - It'll kill you!" Screamed nurse Jones. She launched at Amber but was stopped by a pair of aryans who grabbed her, reflexes beating out conscious thinking. "Stop! Please just stop!" Tears were forming in her eyes now as she watched Amber sink more syringes into her arm, emptying a third dose into her system. Jones' face contorted with distraught and the woman looked from face to face, struggling to find someone to help. Her eyes stopped on Jennifer last, the woman she'd been paired with from the beginning. The one that she'd seen decency in. "Stop her! Please!" She begged. For some reason that did it. Looking at a mirror of herself from before the trial, a tiny, weak woman held back by gang members. That awakening the towering woman into action.

She pushed through the gaggle of surprised Nazis and grabbed the Amber's wrist, stopping the fourth dose by only a couple of inches. "Amber." She said, chilly tone hard like a brick of ice. "You need to stop. You're going to -" A vice clamped around her forearm, making her wince. Her eyes flitted down to see the pale, long, slender fingers wrapped around her forearm, vines suffocating a tree. Amber tilted her head up, drawing Jennifer's gaze. Insanity played across her face, terrifying emotions fluttering across her features, muscles twitching, heavy waves of pain crashing along synapses. It felt like a frost was inching up her arm, claiming more skin as it crept upwards. But it wasn't a frost. It was Amber's fingers. Blue eyes seemed to vibrate in Amber's head. Slowly, the pupils dilated bigger, massive. Horrified, Jennifer watched them begin climbing higher. Suddenly, that urge to upheave her guts was back.

Amber's thin eyebrows arched together, a new tsunami of pain flooding her brain. Her lips parted teeth shining as a groan escaped her. She was breathing heavy now, the 'o' stretching wider. And wider. And wider. Until the demonic smile that replaced it sent a shiver through everyone around. Amber's slender form inflated, filling the overalls rapidly and forcing the half open zipper down further. Lean muscle thickened and broadened, 5'10 broke into 6'. "Ohhhh....ohhhh fuuuck." The aryan woman purred. The vice guided Jennifer's arm forward, battling against all of her strength, forcing the needle through the aryan's undershirt and into her abs. Amber hit the button and a fourth dose rocketed through her veins. There was even a shimmer of purple along her now very visible jugular.

Her right fist opened, dropping the injector and tearing free from Jennifer's grasp. Left hand crushing the art thief's radius and ulna together, she now planted her free hand on the larger inmate's shoulder. "What was that.... About it not wo-working?" The words and giggle that came after sounded otherworldly, rising and dropping in pitch - vocal cords stretching and flexing bigger as air passed over them.

Red overalls unravelled like a ships sails filling with air. The zipper dragged along the white material, both being drawn tighter around Amber's trunk. Tighter around her hips too. Around every part of her.

The usually long limbed, slightly gangly woman was surging outward at an astounding rate, taller, thicker and more muscular. She arched her back, a stuttering, ragged breath being sucked in as her usually meager tits exploded in size. They gurgled juicier, snapping her bra in an instant, pulling the zipper to her shoulders and dragging her t-shirt up along the cobblestone abs where the drug had been deposited. The woman's entire ivory frame magnifying sturdier and wider and girthier. Jennifer felt like she was sinking. Shrinking. Being pushed down by Amber as she grew and grew and grew. Their eyes met when they were level in height and her growth, tauntingly, seemed to pause there just a moment. Then it continued higher. Bigger. Jennifer's face paled as she craned her neck back, vertigo making her head spin, this disgusting woman swelling with power and size, pushing Jennifer down and herself up.

The sound of shredding material and stitches popping filled the air. Rolled up sleeves burst, biceps shearing through. Overalls split along her back, leaking white fabric and alabaster skin. The t-shirt had risen higher, tearing open along the sides as the hem released rigid pink nipples. Red rapidly slid up porcelain white legs, climbing towards her knees. They caught  on her ballooning calves for a heartbeat, then the canvas like material gave in, tears laddering all the way up the pillars of muscle, releasing the scent of Amber's arousal. Jennifer inhaled it, flash backs to the gag making her insides churn.

The aryan's pink tongue ran over her teeth. They clenched closed, a moaning leaking through them, sounds bouncing up and down the pitch spectrum while juices seeped out onto her thighs. The now smaller woman tugged with her ensnared limb, trying to get away. "Aw, is big bad Jenny suddenly not so big? Is she widdle and scared?" The growth had stopped now, leaving Amber a full 12 inches taller and built like a power lifter.

She peered down, drinking it in. "Fuck. Finally. I'm fucking perfect. Not like that bitch Trish or that cunt Vásquez. Look at me." She breathed. Jennifer pulled at her wrist again, but couldn't deny that G37 had made her look glorious. Curvy like Jessica and built thickly like Vásquez and Trish. "I need more."

"Nooooo." Whined nurse Jones, fighting against her captors. The huge woman ignored her, taking another set of syringes and stabbing them into her stomach. She held them there and let her eyes drift down to Jennifer. "Care to do the honours?"

"What?!"

"Press the button."

"No! Why the fuck would I?" Amber's tittered and pulled on the wrist she still had. The blonde tried to fight it, leveraging her weight, leaning backwards, but it was impossible. Her plimsolls squeaked across the floor, fingers curling into a closed fist in a bid to get away from the button. Her knuckles inched closer to the trigger of the injector." Just.... Like.... That..." Amber said, forcing the button down with Jennifer's hand. It clicked and a fifth dose gurgled through the nazi.

Bones were almost crushed to dust as Amber's left hand bloated around Jennifer's forearm. Cum spurted out from between her legs, soaking what was left of her overalls and pattering to the floor. An orgasm had crested, a cocktail of pain and power getting the sadistic woman off. Tattered clothes turned into ribbons as the body they attempted to contain grew. Seven foot was outgrown, her chuckles warped into devilish sounds.

She finally released Jennifer, letting the woman fall backwards onto her ass. She cleared her body of any remanats of clothes, marvelling at her new form. Examining her arms and tits and legs and ass, turning, twisting, flexing and watched, glee filling her mad eyes. Fingers ran over the swells of abdominal muscle, down over her pelvis and in front of everyone, Amber pushed two fingers into her glistening sex. "Ohhhh, fuck. You three." She looked to her gaggle of awed subjects, continuing to finger fuck herself. "Get over here and pump more of this good shit into me."

There was some shuffling, an obvious hesitation to obey making itself known. One particularly brave woman was bolder. "No. This wasn't the fucking plan, Amber. Westbrook said we were to get as much of the drug as possible and split it between us. You can't fucking -" She had been approaching the huge woman as she ranted. A punch caved her head in.

The woman was on the floor in one blow. Amber, plunging her fingers into her molten pussy more vigioursly now, took one exaggerated step forwards and then lifted a leg high. The stomp that came down was overkill, her weight and strength shaking the entire room. Amber popped her head like a fucking melon, spraying her body red, almost a homage to the overalls that hadn't survive the transformation. "Don't.... Tell... Me... I FUCKING... CAN'T." She roared at the body and blood spatter, grunting words out as she edged closer to another orgasm.

Her blood soaked foot was extracted and placed on the other side of the woman, positioning her chest right between the giant's legs. Her huge form shook, rising and falling with great breaths, right arm working back and forth, filling the room with wet, lewd sounds. "Ah.... Ahhh... Mhmmmmm!" A torrent of cum blasted, gushing out of Amber as if her cunt was a power washer. It splattered over the body between her feet, soaking what was left of the poor woman. "FUCK." Amber bellowed towards the high ceiling, a smile on her lips as her voice rattled the glassware in the room. "That was good." That was said more quietly, basking in the afterglow.

She took a breath, recollecting herself. "You three. Drugs. Now." Unsurprisingly, there were no complaints. They did as told, one even leaving nurse Jones to help. Amber looked down to her old hostage, still flat on her ass in shock, an idea visibly forming behind her eyes. Jennifer tried to put some distance between her and the psycho, but was too late and too slow. Instead, she was pulled to her feet by her hair, clawing and punching. "Calm down! God, I just wanna give you a hug. "

Arms encircled her. Their tits mashed together, massive melons folding over the smaller ones. Ab to ab, face to face, toes scraping the floor, Jennifer was held aloft.

"Let me... Go!" Said the smaller woman, jerking back and forth, kicking her legs and flexing her pinned arms. She felt the woman's body quake with laughter.

"It's gonna be so fucking fun crushing you to death." Amber said, face only a few inches away from Jennifer's, the faint whiff of cigarettes still present. The limbs around her swell with effort, tightening the bear hug and forcing her deeper into the aryan's curves. For the 6'5 woman it felt like the cables of a bridge had wrapped around her, clinching tighter and thicker.

"Ready?" A voice asked from what felt like a large distance below.

"Just fucking do it." Came the sharp reply.

Three sets of metal teeth bit into the gargantuan monster. Her face scrunched up for a flicker and then her eyes screwed shut. She appeared to be focusing for a moment until blue ice stared back at Jennifer. Again, she watched those black dots consume the blue, eyes dilating even more this time. That creeping crawl of flesh on flesh made Jennifer think of Trish. This was a mockery of that warm moment, making her want to pull away. She couldn't. Instead she got to experience her body being swallowed. Her breasts were consumed, doughy, pale skin burying them in an avalanche of snow, inch by inch. Snow that had rivers of purple glowing beneath the surface. They kept swelling and rising, eating up her chest, oozing over her collar bone, climbing until they were almost at her chin. Toes left the ground as she was carried skywards. The grinning face in front of her creaked out and up as one set of abs dwarfed their neighbours, rubbing against each other, the bundles of muscle becoming even more wall like as Jennifer was crushed against them.

Yet above all that was something that commanded her attention and her brainpower. The twin anacondas around her engorging larger, squeezing, constricting and bending her ribcage in on itself. All air was ground out of her lungs, diaphragm inverting. She poured all her strength into pushing them apart, trying to lift her arms. She'd have had more luck pushing against steel. She was being compacted like a car in a junk yard, an endless, unstoppable power coming down from every angle. She felt like her shoulder blades were going to turn her spine to dust.

The room swam, lights streaking in Jennifer's vision, colours running, like paint splashed on a canvas. Thrashing, feeling her bones aching, threatening to crunch, Jennifer's face began to darken, red and purple. She imagined a tube of toothpaste being squeezed in the middle. Was that her? Was her head about to pop off like the cap on a tube of toothpaste?

Her ears were ringing but she could still hear Amber laughing as she grew and grew and grew. Spots began to appear in her vision and the corners of her sight faded, oily blackness spreading. An animal need for survival took control. Amber was too large to headbutt in the face now, her traps and neck and chin and cuntish smirk more in view than her eyes. Jennifer swung her head and buried her face in the crook of the huge woman's neck. Her mouth was wide open. Teeth came down, snapping closed like a crocodile's jaws.

Hot, red, metal gushed into her mouth, white teeth being put to savage use. The snakes released her and she crumpled to the ground, gasping, starved lungs thankful of oxygen. From the floor Amber looked even more horrific. Humungous. Skyscraper sized, covered in boulders of strength and.... Between the hills of her boobs, completely livid.

Instinct kept the smaller inmate alive, her body moving to dodge the stomp that would have turned her head into pulp. She couldn't even process what was going on as she hauled herself to her feet and stumbled away from the tornado of anger. The wounded titan was swinging one hand at her, the other clamped to the bite. She didn't have long. Already, the G37 was knitting Amber's neck back together, blood coagulating to stop the bleeding.

The woman she ran towards, the one holding nurse Jones, was too confused and too panicked to move. Jennifer broke her jaw, adrenaline propelling a spearhead of a punch into her face.

Nurse Jones went rigid as Jennifer grabbed her, dragging her to the exit of the room. The three remaining aryans vaulted bodies and lab equipment, chasing the pair of runaways down like rabid dogs. They would have caught them at the doors if a command from their master hadn't boomed from the heavens.

"Let them go." Said Amber, taking her hand away from the bite. It had healed completely. "Would you look at that." She picked up an IV bag nearby, holding up to let the light shine through. Her lips peeled back into a grin and she used her teeth to rip the top free. Chugging it, audibly gulping it down, purple streaming out the sides of her mouth and down her chin, she consumed it.

The huge woman was covered in blotches of blood now rather than a clean coat of it. Her growth had forced the red stains apart like oil on water. She threw the drained bag aside and picked up another. "Come 'ere and keep injecting me. Now. They're too late to stop us anyway." She said, tearing into the second bag. "I want every drop of this shit in me." She grinned.

Chapter 14: Answers by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

This is a bit more exposition heavy.

"Where are we going?!"

"I don't know! I just... started running." Jennifer said.

"N-no one's.... No one's chasing us!" Jones replied, body refusing to make sentences.

Jennifer turned to check over her shoulder, finally slowing her frantic flight through the corridors. Nurse Jones stopped too, exhaustion setting in after having to keep up with her heroine. She sank forwards, hands on her knees, trying to claw back the strength that had been strangled out of her by the run. "H-holy shit." She wheezed.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry." Jennifer gently put a hand on Jones' back. "I didn't even think about you not being able to keep up. Are you okay?"

"N-no... No, I'm fine. I should... Um... Do more cardio..." She straightened up, "we need... To hurry."

Jennifer looked down the path they'd just taken, still apprehensive about slowing down. No footsteps could be heard and no hyena laughter. No one was coming. "Where are we going?" She asked, following, trying to get her bearings.

"I think I know... where we are." Jones was slowly recovering, face beet red. "We should be able to get to a safe place from here."

"Where?"

The woman stopped then, turning to look at Jennifer. She could sense a lingering doubt behind Jones' frown. Whatever internal test she was running, Jennifer must have passed. "We're going to my lab. They set me up some personal facilities here. I kind of..." She trailed off, not sure if she should continue.

"You made G37, I know." Nurse Jones was surprised but swiftly a distrust replaced that shock. Her body language stiffened and she edged further away, putting more space between the two women.

She opened her mouth to reply when both women jumped at the sound of a siren. The white surroundings flashed maroon. "Fuck... Fuck!" Jones stared at Jennifer hard for a moment, weighing her options. She shook her head, steeling her conviction. "C'mon. Quick." She waved an arm to follow her, hurrying down an adjacent, yet identical, corridor.

Jones' comparatively tiny legs pumped under her in a laughable run. Jennifer kept up with a quick walk. No wonder she'd been so out of breath earlier. A single, metal door came into view. This one had no ID scanner and instead had a metal numberpad. Jones rapidly punched in some numbers and the door let out a hiss. She turned the large, stiff handle with a 'cha-chunk' and swung it wide, both women rushing in. The door swung closed.

The office on the other side looked like a miniature version of the room they'd just been in. It was incredibly cramped, full of equipment and machines with a single stool at the bench. "This is my office." The nurse said, taking off her jacket, throwing it onto the stool angrily. She heaved a sigh, rubbing her face with her hands, anxiety continuing to weigh on her. They'd just survived a very close encounter. Planting her hands on the bench, leaning her weight on it like a bar man, she spoke again. "Well, my office at least until that giant bitch gets me canned."

"Wait, fired? You just said this is your research." Jennifer replied crossing her arms.

Jones looked up at her, questioning her recent decision to bring Jennifer in here. She was still an inmate, after all. One that towered over her. Jones' expression softened and she ran a hand over her face. "Yeah, fuck it. You deserve to know the truth. Everything. You should sit, there's a lot to explain."

Jennifer didn't comply at first but, after a few terse seconds, she eventually gave in. It would be best to cut this woman some slack considering the morning she'd had so far, she thought. Easing onto the uncomfortably small stool, Jennifer perched on the creaking chair, unsure of it's structural integrity under her weight.

Jones tied her hair up into a bun, collected her thoughts, and began her story. "G37 was made using my research. Research that Smith and his team hijacked." The blonde tilted her head, an eyebrow rising. Jones nibbled her lip, as if even saying that had stung. "I'm not a part of his team or his organisation... Or, I wasn't. I'm a - was a doctor. I side stepped into research a while ago, looking into genetics. I.... I just got sick of seeing people slip through our fingers. Sure, we could save a lot but we never saved everyone." Jones stared at the floor for a moment, mind flashing through sad memories. "I wanted to cause change on a higher level. To help as many people as possible. So, I aimed to create a serum. Something that could be rolled out nationally, or globally. We theorised that we could make something that, in high doses, could heal intense trauma and, in low doses, speed up recovery time." Already, Jennifer's brain was putting pieces of the puzzle together. Amber's broken nose, her own bruises, Vásquez's Stan wound. It made sense. That's what G37 was originally designed for, healing.

"Using genetically modified cells, I made..." She laughed to herself, shaking her head, not even believing it. "I made amazing progress. I engineered a cell that divided faster than cancer cells and could develop to fit any niche like a stem cell. Boosting healing, recovery and also.... Muscle repair." That checked out too. "That last part caught someone's attention. Smith's team got wind of my research and poured money my way. They shipped me across the country. They gave me cutting edge tech." She frowned, looking at one of the machines. "A few weeks into a deal that was too good to be true, they sprang something on me. They wanted me to repurpose my work - and let's just say they made it very clear that it wasn't a choice."

Jones had to wind up before pitching the next part. "They wanted me to help make a better breed of soldier and.... Well, you've seen the results." She crossed her arms, hugging her own body in an attempt at comforting herself. Opposite her Jennifer was troubled. Ecstatic that her theories had been vindicated, but also sympathetic to Jones and how everything had been stripped away from her.

This all made sense. It explained why Jones wasn't a worker drone like the other nurses. Why she fought back and tried to stop Smith. Why she actually seemed to connect with the inmates on a more human level and show some empathy.

She had never intended for any of this.

Then Trish's words rang in her head. Could this woman really have asked to move here? Move here because their lives were so worthless. She probed the topic. "And you're here because someone died, right? Smith said one of your tests went wrong so you asked to come here? The next best thing to testing on animals was testing on inmates."

An appalled expression came across Jones' face and her arms shifted away from her body. "Next best thing?" Anger and indignation slipped in, fists quaking. "Is that what Smith fucking said? Fuck no. I.... I held his hand." She thrust a thumb at her own chest, a lips drawing tighter, voice wavering. "I held his hand while he fucking died. Screaming. I looked him in the eyes while my drug ripped his heart apart." Teardrops rolled down her cheeks as she shook. "I swore a fucking oath to help people and my drug killed him. I-I owned that! I quit - I left. But they wouldn't fucking let me. They threatened my family. That bald, robotic asshole found my family. They didn't move here for me. We moved here for him. So no more of his fucking tin men die in the tests."

The smaller woman exhaled, hands trembling as she contained a rage bigger than herself. Shame squeezed Jennifer's gut, all doubt dissipated like smoke in the wind. Jones was everything she'd thought she was. A good person in a shit situation. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. You're as fucked in all of this as I am." Jones dried her tears on the sleeve of her jumper, turning away as she sniffled.

"Still, thank you for explaining this all. And for giving more than half a shit about the inmates here. I... Um... Saw Smith slap you when you tried to stop the triple dose."

Mascara streaked eyes widened as Jones turned back. "Wha - how?"

"He put Trish and I next door so we'd get to watch Vásquez die. At least that's what he planned, I think."

"That... FUCKING Asshole!" The tiny woman bellowed in a large voice. She pounded a fist into the bench top, sending test tubes clinking together. Immediately, regret was painted across her face, one hand cradling the other.

"Yeah, he's a huge piece of shit." Came a sighed response. "Glad you hate him too."

Jones snorted. "Everyone does. Even his own team. That's why he's in this hell hole. Still, I can't believe he was trying to kill her from the beginning. I fucking knew it. I'm so happy she proved him wrong..."

"Yeah he guessed you would be. That's also when I found out this is your research. 'Jones is gonna be happy about this'." Jennifer mocked with a terrible expression.

Jones wrinkled her nose. "Jones? Oh..." She gave a half laugh. "You can call me Cass. The fake names are so bullshit."

"Cass?" It felt off having such an informal name for the nurse. "Well, it's nice to meet you... Properly, I mean."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks for, y'know, getting me out of there."

With all the sudden revelations she'd almost forgotten the mornings events. The metal door did a good job of insulating noise of the alarms ringing outside. "What happened back there? Why is she growing when it hadn't worked before?" Jennifer asked.

Cassandra sniffled, still trying to clear the makeup from her cheeks. "I've had a theory for a while now. Both you and Amber took a while to grow despite getting the same amount of G37 as everyone else. Both of you were injured, Amber's nose and your... everything. The serum did its job. It healed you first instead of making you bigger. As for how she's handling so much at once - " She nibbled her lip again. "I don't know."

"What are we going to do about her?"

"Huh? Us? Nothing. Wait it out. The sirens going, so they must know she's down here. The guards are probably bringing her down right now." She shrugged, glumly adding, "one thing I don't doubt is their blood lust."

Standing from the stall, the blonde walked over to the door, pressing an ear to the cold metal. Faintly, she could still hear the alarm. "Is there any way we can see what's going on outside?"

Cassandra gave a sheepish look. "Well... There is one way."


Morning role call woke Trish. The cells all opening in unison, steel against steel, created quite a sound. Bleary eyed, she attempted to get out of the bunk, longer limbs smacking against the steel frame. She'd forgotten she was so much bigger. It was jarring growing so much all at once. Hell, even overnight, she'd added a couple of extra inches to her already massive frame. Delicately, she had to extract herself from the bunk, pulling one leg free at a time.

Standing at her full, colossal height, she stretched, feeling her spine pop and lengthen. It felt fucking good. She looked to the bunk, then to the ceiling, trying to grasp how much larger she was than yesterday. What was she now, 7'9? Pulling on her overalls confirmed that she was indeed bigger. They were snug all over. Raised voices and the squeak of plimsolls pricked her ears up. Candice's plump, worried face came into view at the cell door. "Trish, you need to get out here."

Hurriedly, she yanked on her own custom sized plimsolls and stepped out of the cell. The sunlight should have been pouring in, bleaching the world. It wasn't. The storm was still going, the heavens still raining down. That wasn't the only thing wrong. The regular, regimented order of role call was a chaotic mess. The usual two lines of women were scattered.

"Look." Candice said, pointing. Trish did, peering along where the line should be and felt her heart skip a beat. Around Jennifer's cell was a group of women mixed in with guards, arguing. Jessica was in the gaggle of people and Trish realised she recognised the faces. They were all Niners.

She was about to make her way over when a moving piece of landscape in her peripheral vision caught her eye. "What did you do to Jennifer?" Snarled the chunk of mountain, storming towards her.

She was still a distance away, swelling larger and closer with each step. It took Trish's brain a hot second to reinterpret perspective and understand that she was just THAT big. Nothing like a 10 foot plus tall latina to make you feel tiny at 7'9... Jesus she was massive. The overalls that Smith had arranged for her, the ones that were supposed to be too baggy due to an 'error' had actually ended up being too small for Vásquez. Her defiance on a biological level still making itself known, once again overshooting their calculations.

Vásquez ignored the drama down the hall, fully focused on interrogating Trish, carving a path through the hall to her. Behind her was a wave of Lobos who, admittedly, looked scattered and confused by this call to arms. A wall of Nation members rose up strong, moving as one, zero hesitation, ready to go on defence against the Lobos. Two armies began amassing in response to one another, a negative feedback cycle which kept tensions building.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Trish shouted back, over the wall of people. She pushed her way through, subtly checking for Jessica, hoping her vanguard partner had seen what was going on. The dark haired hourglass hadn't, dealing with her own issues.

Vásquez's fury burned out, her purposeful stride halting as she looked Trish up and down. Sizing her up, seeing she was larger than she should be, Smith's accusation gained more traction. Trish had seen Vásquez angry plenty of times. What she saw now wasn't just anger. There was more to it. She watched her nostrils flaring, lips becoming a line, eyes narrowing, catching the light, glistening just slightly more than they should. There was no time to decode these signs however. "What did you say to her?! Did you fucking threaten her?!" The questions threw Trish through a loop.

"What?! Why the fuck would I threaten Jen?"

"You did something to get her dose." Seethed the giant.

"Her - " Jennifer's dose? What the fuck was going on? Glancing to the woman in question's cell, to where Jennifer should have been, she looked at the Niners. The guards were attempting to keep the peace there - an uphill battle for sure - but there was still no Jennifer. Trish wanted to break away from this all and go to see what was going on, but her and Vásquez had drawn their own crowd. K13, Lobos and nation were surrounding them, a blood thirsty hoard, watching and waiting. Nearly the entire prison watched, people even lining the gangways above to see what was happening. Two women stood in the centre, champions in the coliseum. Breaking through everyone would be difficult. Getting away from Vásquez would be impossible. There was only one outcome here.

"What did you do?!" Vásquez pressed, striding forwards again, pushing everyone metaphorically closer to the boiling point. Inmates braced, the groups closing together, spectators shuffling closer, circle tightening, muscles twitching.

"I didn't do shit!" Trish said, letting her emotions spew out of her. "Maybe she just wanted to give it to me and not a fucking monster. You think she fucking likes you? She's fucking scared of you!"

It wasn't just venting her hatred. She was doing this to whip Vásquez up into an unthinking rage. It had worked. Vásquez's walk morphed into a lightning fast lunge. Trish dodged a fist the size of an average head by a hair. Stepping in low she came up with an upper cut, catching Vásquez on the chin.

The giant stumbled back into the advancing Lobos, obsidian hair flicking up. Trish tried to push her advantage and follow up, but innate instincts kicked in. A second and third punch cut through the air, and a tree trunk rose up to kick the umber giantess back. Like a bowling ball through pins, Trish cut through bodies, knocking them all down. She did her best not to do any damage to those that cushioned her fall. Using the bars of a cell, Trish pulled herself up, getting back into a defensive stance. Vásquez spat blood, teeth shining a ghastly red, a smile breaking her previous expression. Trish knew then that this was going to suck. Bad.

Vásquez's second charge was less of a surprise for everyone and as she went for Trish, the pin dropped. Mayhem and carnage was unleashed across the hall.

Her mind cooled off, Vásquez was more measured, not swinging for the head viciously. A hook to the body was a multimeter from pounding Trish's liver into paste. Instead, it met an unfortunate nation member who was snuffed out like the flame on the end of a match. Her body ragdolled into the crowd, knocking more women down. The aggressor laughed at the inmates folded up, a pile of discarded deck chairs.

Red lights bathed the world, an all too familiar willing beginning as a fresh riot hit full swing. The gangs were at war, the gladiators coliseum turned into a field of clashing women. Bodies even cascaded from the sky, the melee extending to the steel gangways above.

Vásquez continued to hunt Trish, now wading through nation members, marshy, thigh deep water. They charged at her, but anyone who tried to stop her was crushed. Literally in some cases. The size disparity was just too large. A single swing, a single punch, could level a whole group of inmates. A stomp. A laugh. Another life robbed. She was enjoying this.

It turned Trish's stomach. She needed to get this psycho bitch away from the others. She needed to give her gang as much time as possible. She needed to fight strategically.

"Jen told me she fucking hates you!" She screamed over the noises and the fighting and the shouting. "A giant bitch that throws her weight around to get what she wants."

"Stop lying pendeja!" That focused the Latina's path, shrugging off attacks instead of retaliating to them. Trish was backing away. She needed somewhere less open. Somewhere where size couldn't be such an advantage. She was moving away, towards a set of corridors, praying Jessica would follow soon.


"What do you mean the alarm isn't for Amber?" Jennifer stressed, voice hoarse. Cassandra had hijacked her way into the CCTV feed with some digital magic.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuck." The researched muttered under her breath. "Those fucking idiots!" She pointed to the monitor where a grainy set of images showed the holding cells from various angles. "Look, they're too preoccupied with the fighting. They don't even know where Amber is!"

Jennifer leaned over the smaller woman, hands on her shoulders. Trying to make sense of the visual, she squinted. Orange wriggled and pulsed. She could make out Jessica and even Selina, two patches of red in the mess, but where were Trish and Vásquez? Black shapes began streaming in on one side. The guards. They didn't have time to watch this. "Can you switch cameras to the lab? Where the fuck is Amber?"

"Hang on." Cassandra opened up a UI that showed dozens of cameras. "I think they're on a different circuit, I can't get into those ones."

One of the squares went black. "Wait, what was that?" Leaning further forwards, unintentionally resting her breasts on Cassandra's neck and head, Jennifer pointed to the blacked out square.

"What?" She tried not to be distracted by the weight on her neck. "What?... Th-that was medbay." Cassandra said, suddenly feeling a cold run through her, more powerful than Jennifer's warmth on her back.

Both women watched, wide eyed, as cameras went dark one by one. The path was obvious. It was going from medbay straight to the holding cells. They were on the edge of their seats, hearts in their throats, waiting to see if it was who they expected.

Across the other screens they numbly registered the riot spreading like a cancer through the prison. Out of the holding cells, into the corridors and the library, the canteen and showers - inmates and guards locked in combat everywhere. Whoever was destroying cameras would encounter some of the rioters soon. A glimpse of movement in one of the empty shots made the two watchers jerk to the square. The aryans passed, all carrying weapons. One at the back of the pack, merrily skipping through the corridor, stopped. The woman with a shaved head turned, laughing. She held a hand up like a gun at the camera and pulled the trigger. Everything went out of focus for a second, something so huge passing by that it must have pressed against the camera. Then the feed died.

"How much G37 do you think she could have taken?" Jennifer asked, mouth very, very dry.

"I don't know. We've.... We've never done tests like that. She couldn't have..."

Another camera went black, this time a glimpse of pale skin.

"She... Fuck, what if she took it all?"

"No, there's no way. There's.... There's no way." Cassandra muttered to herself, voice brimming with fear. Another camera died.

Guards and inmates stopped fighting in one of the screens. Clicking on it, the feed enlarged. Horrified expressions became clear on every face. People stared running, charging back to the holding cells. The aryans sprinting into the crowd, howling and laughing, trying to catch stragglers.

"Go to the holding cell cameras." Jennifer said, worry bleeding into each word.

An alt tab and furious clicking brought up the view they'd had earlier. Tear gas blocked some of the vantage points, but they could clearly see the double doors that had inmates streaming back in. They were met with other rioters, unable to get far.

The doors crashed open, flying off of their hinges and Jennifer's stomach flipped. Those closest wobbled, stopping to look at the doorway. A deep perplexion probably set root, inmates not understanding what they were looking at. Flesh filled the entire doorway. Pale skin stretched tight over muscle. Finger thick red lines ran along them. Even her skin was struggling to keep up with her growth. What those inmates were looking at was a shoulder against the floor and portion of an expansive back. The wall bulged, tiles cracking and falling to shatter on the ground. More of the chaos stilled, people looking to the surreal events unfolding. Cracks aggressively spread around the door, up the walls. Titanic legs pushed against the structure itself, making concrete buckle. Jennifer and Cassandra held their breath. Everything receded back in, the lungs of a monster falling, collapsing.

Then the floor shook in the lab, lights blinking.

Static ate at the cameras for a moment before the picture cleared, lagging behind reality. Jennifer wished it hadn't. She'd wished she'd been able to stay ignorant. From various view points she watched a hulking, muscle rippled, purple veined giant explode not through the door but through the entire building itself. The grotesquely large body came through, turning those closest to the doorway into viscera and splatter, beneath bricks and cement and... A sadistic, laughing, giant. Those outside of the dead zone were hit by shrapnel, others pinned only partway by the debris and the giantess. Pained screams must have been echoing throughout the hall, louder than the sirens. The crowds receded like the tide, backing away from the leviathan. Amber was surely close to 20 foot tall, bloated into an impossibly curvy, muscled form.

It became clear now that she'd been crawling through the corridors - the only way she could fit through them - destroying the cameras with her sheer girth.

The monster rolled onto her side, a tit landsliding out and smothering one of the injured, wailing inmates under it. Amber must have noticed the struggling. She reared her head back, laughter like thunder, and rolled onto her front, pushing her chest into the ground, a reverse push up.

When she stood, peeling her massive mammary from the ground, she left only overalls and a stain on the ground. Dust and brick and gore fell from the rising behemoth. Amber cooed, smearing blood over her breasts, mashing them together. She pinched the blood soaked, fist sized nipple and shivered.

She was too big to be seen fully on most of the cameras. Only one camera at a lofty height saw her full glory. At her new, terrifyingly glorious height, she could look straight out of the high up windows, her head almost at the ceiling. No one passed her knees.

This sight, this vile, humungous bitch, caused one reaction. Panic. Inmates and guards alike scattered, running in any direction that carried them away from Amber.

Cassandra pushed backwards suddenly, bringing Jennifer's mind back into the lab. The larger woman stepped back, releasing Cassandra and giving her room.

She looked pale, sickly. But her jaw was clenched and a firey determination burned in her eyes. "What are you doing?" Jennifer asked as Cassandra began gathering materials, snatching up a notepad and scribbling something.

"Fixing this." She said darkly. "Every person she kills is my fault. I need to fix this. It's time to fight fire with fire."

End Notes:

Just a heads up, I'm writing chapter 15 but might disappear for a bit! Don't worry, I'll be back soon!

Chapter 15: Vendetta by Kokoji

Selina was coughing, eyes streaming from the tear gas, lungs burning. She'd been riding out the riot near her cell, preferring not to get into anything physical, not to get involved. Her role as smuggler gave a certain carté blanc from the civil war going. That was as long as she didn't pick a side, which she had no intention of doing.

Away from the majority of the violence she'd actually been quite relaxed. A spectator, not a participant. That didn't stop the winces seeing her friends at war. She knew this is how it had to be in times like this - a great clash, a climax, a crescendo of fists clashing and bones breaking -  but she hated it. When everything built up to this level of anger, it had to happen before things calmed back down. Just like the heat. Just like the swollen clouds bleeding into the dry earth, blood was spilled on the concrete. It saddened her knowing they were fighting over such insignificant things. Territory. Patches of a prison no one owned. Pride. It was stupid, but necessary for the ecosystem to reset.

Guards had arrived eventually, and somehow the riot kicked into an even more erratic, higher gear. The animosity towards each other was never as intense as anger directed at the guards. Her face had scrunched into a cringed when a molotov soared across the hall, crashing into riot shields and spreading flames. She'd smuggled that in. Rolls of flaming toilet paper followed, chairs and DIY weapons hurled into the wall of shields. Selina mused that the more intense hatred was probably a power thing. Being powerless for years, taking abuse and not being able to dish any back. Bottled emotions coming free for a tiny window of time. A lot of rage was untethered. Even so, the guard's prescence usually signified the candle burning brightest before going out. Casually covering her nose and mouth with a pillow case, content to bare with the irritant gas, she waited for this bouth of madness to end.

Through bleary, water logged eyes she saw the rioters and guards stumble as a unit. Mother nature apparently had plans to keep this riot going, joining the inmates in revolt. Selina had never felt so much as a tremor here before and wondered if an earthquake were actually starting. It couldn't have been an explosion, could it? She'd survived a few earthquakes in her travels and knew she shouldn't be under the gangway above. She needed a big sturdy door to stand under. Running through the tear gas, abandoning her safe haven, squinting, she went for the big double doors that were closest. The doors that led to medbay.

Once she broke through the cloud of opaque fumes she piled into a group of stony inmates, apologising.

Following their stunned gaze, her own jaw slowly gaped open in shock. The whole wall was coming apart, swelling outwards, a malignant tumour. Grey cement becoming more visible, tiles spreading apart, cracking, falling off of the wall as it expanded.

The intense force on the wall relented and things shifted marginally back into place. That was only a momentary reprieve for the building. The world moved. Selina fell, air punched out of her as the ground rose up to meet her, concrete and steel and ceramic zipping overhead as everything rumbled. When the dust had cleared Selina found herself only a few feet from the wreckage. Only a few feet from a K13 member, half crushed by rubble and crying out in pain. "Hang on!" She wheezed, throat coated in mould and a layer of what used to be a wall.

Jagged shapes stabbed at Selina's knees as she moved to try and pull the crushed woman free. The hill began to move. Her brain screeched to a halt. The shapes she could see moving were familiar but the scale was... Impossible. Still on her knees, she looked up and up and up, eyes widening in awe, her mind filling in the gaps, figuring out what had just happened. Amber was moving. Shaking dust from her face and hair. Gathering herself up, looming larger and bigger after the charge that sent her through the wall. Guards and inmates alike clattered backwards as one.

Her truly titanic form made Selina's head spin, sending her thoughts stuttered and skipped like a needle on an old vinyl record. This shouldn't be possible. Vásquez was huge but this shattered Selina's understanding of size. This was far from human. Mythical. A momster from a tale sung around fires. A building moving right in front of her. As the white mass moved one Lobos member, desperately trying to get free from the weight that crushed her, was swallowed by Amber's car crusher of a breast. The giant noticed the bug squirming under her tit and laughed a short, sharp chorlte, booming loudly enough for Selina to clasp her hands over their ears.

The poor woman, pinned under the bricks and cement was consumed by a wave of pillowy, dough as she clawed and screamed. Selina imagined it would be like the world's biggest, heaviest, strudiest water bed gradually rolling onto you. Amber's full weight and strength came down harder, a sinister smile splitting her face. Selina wasn't sure if the cracking sounds was the debris or the woman. The woman that had just been turned to mush...

Amber leaned back, eclipsing the lights and plunging Selina and a number of inmates into a deeper darkness. A bloody shadow, an outline, was all that was left of the Lobos member. A tower of white skin rose, Amber got to her feet, making dust fill the air again. God, she didn't look real. Boulder like muscles stretched her ivory skin tight, veins thicker than Selina's wrist made a purple road map over her arms and shoulders and legs. Her curves flared outrageously outwards, refusing gravity and sitting perkily on her body. She should have looked amazing but all the smuggler could think was that she looked grotesque. Too muscular, too curvy. Too much. Angry red lines ran along the swells, shimmering when they caught the light. Too much, too fast.

Fleeing inmates snapped Selina back to life. "Aw, don't leave. The party is just getting started!" Amber's voice echoed from what seemed miles above. The woman Selina had been trying to help was still alive, still feverishly trying to push the weight of the fallen wall off of her. The latina couldn't leave her. She reached forwards, hands clasping the woman's.

"It's okay, I think that I can pu-" thunder struck, the world rumbling angrily. Selina closed her eyes, jekred forwards, black hair whipping in ribbons around her face. When she opened her eyes back up she was facing five plump, fat digits and a foot the length of a dinning table. She was still holding the lifeless hands in her own. The arms disappeared under the aryan's sole. Selina tilted her head back slowly, looking up along shins and knees to see parted thighs and a massive set of fingers working in and out of a vagina that could eat a tree. Beyond the abs, above the out cropping of mammary, Selina could just about see Amber's gray - blue eyes sparkling, corners crinkled by a smile.

"Oopsie." She snidely said, drumming her toes, subtle vibrations reaching Selina through the ground. The hands went limp in Selina's and she let them fall, crestfallen. Someone wrapped an arm around the latina's throat, pulling her up.

"What do we do with her?" A gruff question was asked behind her head.

"Keep her somewhere for now. When I own this prison I'll crack her open and suck that purple shit straight out of her. See if it makes me grow some more." Amber winked and proceeded to turn her attention away from the smuggler, looking out to the terrified inmates trying to escape her. It was time for the fun to really begin.

Selina watched, still mentally struggling to comprehend everything. Amber's first stop was the cattle herding themselves away from her on the gangway. She laughed at the hoarde charging away along the metal walkway. A single mass collapsing in on itself, trying to create distance from the threat. As Amber approached, people threw themselves over the edge, abandoning ship. It didn't help. A pillar flung forwards, shin acting catching people mid air, arching up and sending bodies flying across the hall. She outpaced the retreating group.

Amber went up onto her toes, calves bunching, and coiled her upper body away. It was like a car crash, Amber swinging her chest at the gangway, breasts, two massive flail ends mowing bodies down, shattering them, smushing them against the metal and the walls. The pack had been split, some escaping, others trapped by tit. Not even the gangway could handle her, groaning under the weight, bending and sagging. The trapped inmates did a 180, trying to run the way they'd come. Amber's hands came up under the walkway on either side of her bust. Her biceps flooded with strength, purple highways pumping power into them. The metal creaked and deformed, coming away from the wall, keeping the inmates trapped. Gargantuan knots along her back engorged, swelling muscles making the red lines look like they were widening. The whole section of metal was twisted, ripped free, women tumbling over the edges.

Amber absentmindedly stomped then from existence, her focus drawn to one woman in particular. Releasing the walkway with one hand, letting people and bodies fall, she plucked a nation member free.

"Wendy, is that you?" She dropped the walkway, the new toy more interesting than the old one. "It is!" She squealed to the writhing, living doll, encircled by her fingers. A devilish grin formed. "It's been a while, right? But..." She looked up, lips pulled into a feigned, thoughtful frown. She tapped her chin with one finger. "I think the last time we talked you said something meeeean." She croned

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Cried the doll, sobbing and pleading, wriggling in the tight grip.

"I think you called me a flat, white, crack whore." Her teeth shone like a sharks moments before a bite was taken. Selina expected her eyes to roll back, as a great White's would.

"I was wrong, I didn't-didn't mean it!" Amber's fingers gripped the woman around her waist, leaving her large melons free. Well, large in a relativly normal sense of scale. The busty woman had clashed with Amber time and time again, making fun of her 'bee stings'. Wendy was proud of her own F cup breasts and had boasted about them relentlessly. Now they were a target for abuse.

"But these things," Amber roughly pinched a breast, squeezing it like a blueberry, "just don't seem that big anymore." The woman was screaming, sensitive tissue being mashed by her monstrous oppressor. Wendy was released, torture technique abruptly changing. "Not like these!" Amber cackled twisting her torso again, suddenly and slapping a breast against her captive. The blood stained mountain rocked the small woman back, head swimming from the impact. "Right?" She grunted, another titslap. "Tell me how fucking BIG my girls have gotten!" Roared the aryan. Earlier she'd used her bust to devistate a crowd... This, a single person taking all the weight and impact, was barbaric.

Wendy's nose and mouth were bleeding. "They-they're huge!" She, amazingly, managed to say. "Fucking huge!"

"Aren't they just?" Amber asked dreamily, gently rocking her breasts back and forth. "So much better than yours, right?" There was feverish nodding, but not enough. "Say they're fucking perfect."

"They're perfect! Perfect, okay?! Just, please let me go!"

"Perfect." Purred Amber, enjoying the way the word rolled off of her tongue. Wendy was face to breast, praying she'd make it out of this alive. Seeing the woman there, hanging directly in front of tits that rivalled her entire body, an idea formed. Amber pinched an arm and let Wendy dangling by it. "I just had a thought..." She quipped, pushing her biceps against her breasts. "Maybe you need," She hung the woman over the line of cleavage she'd created. "A more intimate experience..." Lowering Wendy into the hills she forced her legs into the valley. "To know that I'm not..." The inmate struggled, slowly being sucked deeper into the chasm. Her hands sunk into the pale ocean, her own chest finally being gobbled down. "That." Amber used a single finger to push her toy completely in. The smile dropped. "I'm not!" Now she grabbed her breasts by the sides, fingers digging in, pushing them together viciously. "FUCKING." She pulled them apart and smashed them together, a clap of skin on skin radiating out. "FLAT!" Again, the tits separated and smashed together. "ANY. MORE." Each syllable came with it's own explosive clap of breast. Blood tricked out from the orbs, down the long, chiseled middle line of abdominal muscle. A river going down to Amber's taunt belly button. She let another pulverised body fall and sighed contentedly. "That's what real boobs look like, bitch." She laughed.

The exits to the holding cells had become congested, a mad rush for the exits creating a panicked, human gridlock. The stampede had slowed to a grind and now the gaggle of inmates felt an icy chill roll across them. A shadow cast over them. A gaze freezing their blood. Amber scanned the terrified faces, looking for anyone who might have slighted her, eager to continue her vendetta on cell block B.

Jennifer glanced at the screens, seeing Amber playing with all the terrified inmates. She'd lost track of the red overalls in the pixelated images, distracted by Cassandra. She knew Trish and Vásquez had left early on but prayed Jessica and Selina had made it as well. "What do you mean 'fight fire with fire'?" Asked Jennifer looking back to Cassandra.

The woman was still running calculations, holding a finger up to Jennifer. She tapped something into the keyboard and then looked to the inmate. "We need a last resort." She said grimly.

"Which is?"

"Well, something that can level the playing field." She took a deep breath, hesitation creeping in. "A concentrated version of G37... G38."

Jennifer felt a shiver of excitement run through her but contained it. "So..." She blinked a few times. "You can make something that can get us up to that size?" She pointed to the psychotic, giant shape on camera. Never, even in her wildest dreams, had she imagined that was possible. Now hearing that it was, a whole colour pallette of emotions awoke.

"Us? No. One person." That dulled the excitement somewhat. "I don't have enough materials to make more than one dose... And... Fuck, I don't know if it's going to work or if it's going to kill someone." Her lips quivered, and Jennifer's excitement took another blow. This wasn't some magic size elixir. Suddenly, reality seemed to sink in for Cassandra. Memories flooding back. Stomach turning memories. Her fire like resolve flickered. "Aw, fuck... Maybe this is a bad idea. We can just wait for -"

"No." Jennifer was shocked by the force in her own voice. "Do it. You need to. This aryan bitch is - every second you don't is a second she's torturing someone. Someone else dying." Cassandra looked to the security camera feed. She couldn't precisely make out what was happening but knew Jennifer was right. Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she weighed her options.

"Fine. But this is a last resort, got it? If the guard's can't take her down and - and people are going to die... Then, only then can we try this. Because seriously, the numbers." She cast a fretful look to the other monitor. To the numbers. "They don't look good."

Sighing, Jennifer nodded, her giddiness tempered into a steely determination.


Grunts and shouts ricocheted around the showers. Trish had led Vásquez there, forcing the 10 foot woman to squeeze through tiny corridors, the smaller woman picking at her like a vulture. She'd land a punch or a kick, flitting out of reach while Vásquez's mobility was hindered. Using agility and space to her advantage, she'd been doing well, frustrating her predator further.

That didn't change the anxiety gnawing at her whenever she got close. It would just take one slip up for Vásquez to pin her down and maul her like an enraged jaguar. Reaching the entrance to the showers had been a sobering, dreadful reminder that she'd run out of space. Vásquez was stuck in the doorframe, waist caught, one arm uselessly pinned by the nearby wall. Trish took advantage, swinging haymakers into the latina. Punches that would have shattered and broken bones were absorbed by Vásquez, hardly doing anything more than superficial damage.

Ultimately, it just heated the hot blooded woman more. Her temper spiked into a fury and Trish back pedalled, Vásquez letting out an ear splitting shout. Trish's face drained of blood as she watched veins swell across Vásquez's neck and shoulders, eyes wildly peeling into madness stricken balls of flame. Placing her hands on the walls either side of the frame, she pushed. Her body quaked, throbbing, muscles expanding with effort, overfilling the door frame. It creaked, plaster and tiles cracking. "Oh shit." Whispered Trish, darting out of the way as the walls immediately surrounding the latina came apart and sent Vásquez stumbling into the bathrooms. She landed on her forearms and knees, rising back up quickly. Fuck. This was the end of the line.

Trish blocked the first punch that came. The fist was wide enough that she needed to block with both arms. Her forearms felt numb from that single blow, fingers tingling with pins and needles. She'd been pushed back, pressing against a tiled wall, the wall that joined the bathroom and the changing rooms behind her.  Dropping low, she barely avoided the stomping kick directed at her head. It turned the edge of the wall into chunks.

One hit. That's all Vásquez had to land and the fight would be so lopsided that Trish wouldn't be able to come back. "Not so mouthy now, are you?" Vásquez said, stalking Trish deeper into the showers. "Why don't you stay still?"

"Because I'd fucking die." Trish replied, vaulting over a waist high partition.

A bark of a laugh bubbled out of Vásquez. "Fair enough." Trish felt a familiar sickening feeling. This bitch was having fun. The caramel giant stepped one foot over the waist high wall in the shower, to her it was mid thigh.

'Now or never.' Trish thought to herself, sprinting forwards, powerful legs propelling her at an astounding speed. She dove into a kick, hoping to topple over the woman while she was unstable and escape the way she'd come. Vásquez's instincts were too sharp though. Even bent forwards, one leg on each side of the short wall, she absorbed the kick like she was concrete and caught Trish's leg. Now the balance was reversed, Vásquez was grounded and Trish was desperately trying to stay upright. Pulling, pushing and toying with Trish, she kept her dancing, hopping on one foot. Vásquez stepped over the wall completely and, with a smirk, pulled her in. Trish jumped up, trying to kick with the other leg, a last ditch attempt. It didn't work and, in an impressive act of strength, Vásquez swung her opponent around, a human baseball bat. Letting her sail through the air, she released her, catapulting Trish into a far wall in the showers. She crashed against the tiles, pain in her back and sides. She couldn't concentrate on that though. She needed to -

In a flash, while Trish was groggily trying to get up, Vásquez skidded into a front mount, straddling her hips with an immense weight. A knee shuffled forwards to pin one hand down, the other was snatched up by the wrist, held over Trish's head.

A fist concaved her stomach, almost flattening the woman, Trish felt the air leave her. She flexed her abs, bracing for a second and third punch. Vásquez was taking this slow on purpose. "So, what did you do to Jennifer?" She asked again.

Trish took ragged, painful breaths. "I already told you I didn't do shit." The knuckles were only there for a moment, filling her vision. Head bouncing off of the tiles, lights winked in her eyes, occipital lobe having been slapped off the back of her skull.

"You're gonna tell me or I'm gonna take you apart piece by piece." Shit. This wasn't a beat down. This was torture. Trish struggled. Bucking her hips, kicking her legs, flexing her arms. The size disparity was too big. Vásquez was just too much for her to handle, too strong, too dominant. With her heart sinking, Trish thought it would be easier to bend the prison bars than break out of this.

"Fuck, I dont know!" Shouted Trish, honestly. "They didn't tell me it was her dose!" Another blow to the ribs made a cracking sound, the urge to vomit hitting.

Her head was abruptly pinned back to the tiles thumb digging into one cheek while fingers dug into the other. An angry face grew closer until it was all Trish could see. Nose to nose, she spoke. "See, that sounded like the truth, but you been bullshittin' me for a while. I know you think I'm fucking stupid. I've heard the rumours. I've seen you two around. All fucking friendly. Shit, she-" Vásquez turned her head for a half second and switched words quickly. "I think blondie has more fucking balls than YOU think. She wouldn't stab me in the back like a pussy. Not unless you did something. Said something." The fingers dug more sharply, Vásquez's expression screwing up further.

"Shit, I didn't think you'd stab me in the back either." The hold on her face tightened, Trish's jaw beginning to feel like it would shatter under the ridiculous grip strength. Vásquez scowled down. "Though you had the integrity to come from the fuckin' front. But I guess I gave you more credit than you des-ARRRRRGH!" The thick fingers left Trish's face. Vásquez reeled backwards, swinging her arm out at someone. Trish couldn't tell what was happening until the mountainous body on top of her shifted out of view, rolling to the side, away from a new assault.

Jessica had finally arrived. She'd managed to sink a blade into the titan twice in a vicious, veiled attack. Then an elbow had whipped out and she'd been forced back, leaving the blade stuck in Vásquez's muscled flank. Gingerly moving, Vásquez felt around for the knife. "Wow, literally stabbing me in the back? Fucking shameless." Scoffed the massive woman.

Jessica hauled a dizzy Trish to her feet. Trish took stock: A concussion, a split lip, a bloody nose, some fractured ribs maybe too. Not enough to keep her out of this fight. Not by a long shot. "You good?"

"Good enough. Took your fucking time." Trish retorted.

"Yeah, shits been fucking crazy all the way here. Did a bomb go off or some shit?" Trish looked at her confused. "Alright, guess you didn't feel it."

"Enough chatter, putas." Vásquez talked loud. "Let's get this shit done." Hunched over, her massive form occupied a large section of the showers. Splitting the massive square into sections were a number of the waist high walls Trish had tried to utilise earlier. Now Vásquez was using it as a barrier.

"Surround her." Trish said, jutting her chin to the left. They split, spreading out, Vásquez backed up, looking left and right. This was going to be difficult.


Across the prison Smith shoved a guard into the armoury. He'd been mopping up all the cowards that came his way, guiding them to better weapons and armour. He kept the fear out of his voice, poker face instilling a calm in the horrified guards. It wasn't play time anymore. This wasn't the time for non-lethal measures. Fuck cattle prods. It was time to go in guns blazing. Tear gas and rifles and shotguns. It was time to put these women in their place once and for all.

Smith had downed the last of his liquid courage while a hard drive filled with recordings of their sessions. Then he'd come to gather his men. As soon as his men were prepped, he'd be heading out to evac. They'd be his distraction for escape. No use taking risks, after all.

Chapter 16: An uneasy truce by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

A little on the short side but only because I want to really drag out some more rampage!


Thank you to GTortoise some golden inspiration for Amber's dialouge!

Biding her time, Selina watched Amber and the aryans having fun through the bars. A member of the aryans stood guard at the cell door, keeping her inside. An ironic twist in the penal system. Inmates guarding inmates.

The alarm system had been decimated by the white whale of a woman. She'd crushed the speakers and broken the lights, annoyances while she was having fun. A feat no one else could have done with them all being at least a dozen foot out of anyone else's reach. Now one lone speaker gave a high pitched, pained blaring sound. A broken, wounded animal. A metaphor for what the prison had become.

Entropy had been tamed by the new apex predator. The holding cells looked like the aftermath of a medieval battle. Fires burned themselves out, broken shields, cracked and smashed, weapons and bodies, all laid out across the hall. Amber had thinned the heard into a smaller, more manageable group. Easier to catch or kill any stragglers trying to escape when there were fewer people, after all. She was currently sat atop the rubble and bodies she'd created with her grand entrance. A throne of destruction. Her thick legs were splayed to either side, feet almost brushing the bars of the cells along each wall.

A new game had begun in the wake of the riot. A new set of trials. "Next!" Shouted one grinning aryan, stood in front of a towering foot. One Lobos member delved into the canyon of limbs, stepping away from the front of a long line. She had a thin scar over her nose and a defiant grimace. The woman shuffled forwards, eyes searching for any signs of a possible exit. Her journey took her passed Amber's ankles, deeper into the valley. Girthy legs loomed larger on either side of her as the path grew narrower. The heat and humidity pouring off of Amber increased, a cloying scent that was omnipresent in the room becoming more overpowering. In front of the woman was not only Amber, stretching skyward, but also a voracious, slick, crimson, throbbing, hungry cunt.

At this size the Lobos member could see every twitch of excited muscle, every drop of nectar and, of course, the engorged clit sitting smugly above the spread folds. It was huge, larger than an orange and had shrugged off the clitoral hood, bloated and practically humming in ecstacy. As she stared into the abyss, it seemed to stare back, swelling and pulsing tauntingly, more cum oozing out to drip onto the rubble below.

By virtue of Amber's size, she divided the room. New contestants in front of her, kept between her legs, previous stowed away behind her. In the shadow of her vast rump there were two groups of women. One, a disheveled group - tousled up hair, smeared make up, ashamed expressions - all soaked in thick, viscous juices. Each and everyone of them kept their eyes glued to the ground, refusing to make eye contact with one another... Or with the other group. The group of equally soaked dead bodies piled into a mound.

The name of the game: Make Amber cum or suffocate. It was a cruel, perverse game that the monster had thought up mid rampage while stuffing a terrified inmate into her slit. Once she'd brought the survivors to heel in the holding cells, she knew exactly how to create a group of 'loyal' subjects. Something to bind them all. Mark them. Brand them as her slaves. It was the perfect bonding experience for them all.

To Amber's delight, quite a few had been proficient at passing the test. Due to the colossal bundles of sensitive nerves that had been bolstered with G37, she'd been easier to push into climax for most. On the other hand, those too proud or not dexterous enough to pass were held down in her sex until they stopped struggling. The twisted woman had joked with her lackeys that those that didn't make the cut could at least have a taste of heaven before going to hell.

"Bet when you came to prison you never thought the pussy would be eating you." Amber sang, making herself laugh and sending her abs fluttering. She shot a wink to the Lobos member below who, surprisingly, didn't show any fear. She just grew angrier.

Selina realised it was Alvarez when she heard the voice drifting out from the danger zone. "Nah, puta, fuck that! I ain't eating your dirty, nazi snatch and it sure as fuck ain't eatin' me! Better fucking kill me now, hoe!" She couldn't see the source of the voice over the gargantuan curve of quad between them but a bittersweet smile curled Selina's lips. Of course Alvarez would say something like that. If only what was coming next wasn't....

Amber's almost white eyebrows rose high on her forehead. "Awwww, isn't that cute, guys?" She looked from one aryan member to the other near her feet, toes wriggling at their eye level. "She thinks she has a choice!"

There was almost a whistle of air as her hand came swinging down. Alvarez's entire body was slapped into the jaws of the beast. Hyena cackles filled the air, Amber grinding Alvarez into her cunt, humping her hand aggressively, mashing the doll into her erogenous zones. This was more brutal than any of the 'trials' before. Bundles of muscle bigger than a grown man flexed, floor quaking as Alvarez was fucked like a cheap toy.

Selina grit her teeth, watching, praying Alvarez would just give in and throw away her pride. She could barely make out the sound of tiny fists beating against the steel of Amber's inner thighs. It was drowned out by a moan. The powerlessness to stop this was crushing. Even if every inmate in the hall attacked Amber it would be completely futile.

Alvarez wriggled, fighting, turning her head, gasping for air wherever she could. That life or death battle served as nothing more than tingles for the giant. "Ah fuck. That's right, ke-keep struggling!" She said, words catching in her throat as pleasure spiked. She was enjoying the fact that her getting off was enough to kill someone - that she was sapping the life out of someone while they acted as her plaything. It was disgusting to watch. Her legs lifted in pleasure, coming down like felled trees to shake the walls. One aryan at her feet tumbled out of the way, rolling and dodging what would have been a life ending collision.

Selina did a double take, blood mixing with ice in her veins. Had that woman been in close enough proximity to be crushed before? When this had all started hadn't she been much further away from the foot? Selina looked from Amber's ass to her heel again and again. Being so frustrated she hadn't actually been paying attention to her, instead plotting an escape. This revelation troubled Selina though and now she stared along the leg that stretched passed the row of cells, mentally soaking in details. Had the massive posterior ahead of her been covering that much of the debris earlier? Had her gigantic thigh been blocking that much of the view? Selina felt anxiety constrict her chest when she saw it. A haze of heat, a half second of movement that didn't match the rest. A spurt of size. Amber was still growing. Selina blinked rapidly, eyes affixed to Amber. She tried to tune out Alvarez being drowned in cum, tried to ignore her friend being fucked to death - There it was again! Blonde hair shifted further out of view, demonic grin stretching wider, canines bigger, lips juicier. Selina's eyes wandered down. Tiny, sporadic bursts. Inches at a time, maybe. Amber was still growing. The notion was mind numbing. Her wrecking ball of a breast jostled as she moved, swaying back and forth as it swelled heavier. The huge, pink nub that sat proudly on her tit widened and thickened, rigid from pleasure. Selina needed to get out now. She needed to do something to stop her.

A wet gurgling could just about be heard as Amber thrashed up and down, breathing heavy. Alvarez didn't have long. Grimly, Selina wondered if this the distraction she needed? It felt dirty using someone else's death as a way to slip out, but -

Metallic clinking was the only warning the inmates got. Flashbangs exploded, ringing ears and blinding everyone. Tear gas followed. Inmates hit the ground and Amber, practically unaffected, waved away the clouds of irritant. Shepherding two aryans away from the attack, she led them to the third woman in front of Selina's cell. A hushed order was given. "Cell block A. Now." She muttered, hustling the women away with her palm. Selina had heard it all. A clap of deafening sound made her jump. Amber winced, whirling back around to face the double doors. A barrage of lead greeted her, digging deep into what marble like skin.

Encouraged by Amber's scream, they laid in. The giant shielded her face with a meaty arm, and swiped at the guards with the other. Selina couldn't help but think of King Kong on the empire state building, swatting at planes. The guards broke formation scattering, going for cover, but not before Amber's front had been pock marked, bloodied and bullet ridden. Elated by their success, Selina gripped the bars and peered out, hoping goliath would fall. All hope died when Amber instead rose.

Amber stood, back to Selina's cell. She wasn't looking at the muscled, sculpted knots across her back or the round, hunks of glute below. Even with her ears ringing her attention was drawn to a peculiar series of sounds filling the abrupt quiet. It sounded like someone was pouring out a bag of coins and, between the ivory pillars of Amber's legs, Selina saw a downpour of lead twinkling in the light. Bullets. Bullets that had just been lodged in her flesh and skin and bones. Bullets spat from her body, wounds healing, plugging the injuries, forcing the foreign material out. The guards all stared, bloodied, red holes filling, skin and muscle stitching itself back together until little pink marks were all that remained. Even they faded, leaving no scar tissue at all. Just perfectly smooth, white skin or red marks, a testament to her growth.

The moan that left the pale structure signified something else coming. Purple veins shimmered, the overdose of G37 in her system being awakened by the need to heal it's vessel. Amber ground her teeth and muscles flexed... And swelled... And grew. The sound of leather being pulled taunt, creaking, filled the air and the titanic shape before them pushed up and out. In the middle of the hall, Amber grew. She reached out, gripping the ceiling to steady herself as her head weeded closer to it, body twitching and shuddering as she struggled to stay upright. Selina hadn't been able to estimate the woman's height before but now as she filled the hall, floor to ceiling, she felt a dreadful comparison becoming apparent. The holding cells, one of the few rooms with an uncharacteristically high ceiling, topped out at 25 feet. A height that Amber had just encroached.

Finally the growth stopped and Amber ran her hands across the concrete her head was pressed against. Her voice had even more bass in it when she spoke. "Mhmmmm, fuck. Boys, you're really getting me worked up." She smirked. "Wanna try that again?" Their was a come hither look in her eyes beckoning them. If they weren't so traumatised it may have been alluring. Their dumbfounded faces made them look oh, so powerless. So defeated. So pathetic. She drank it in, squeezing her thighs together. It was hot seeing people this broken by her doing nothing but stand there. She didn't need to give a grand display of power. She didn't need to flex her size and crush them to dust. She didn't even need to scream or shout. All she had to do was stand there. Stand there and take all the bullets and huff in all the tear gas and let it make her even stronger and bigger and better. Shrugging off their most desperate attempts. No, not shrugging it off - guzzling it down, absorbing it, feeding off of it. That level of defeat made them delectably distraught. It showed them that she'd transcended them completely, a bastion of perfection that was un-fucking-touchable. She came again thinking about it.

Scared, powerless men gave a laughably predictable response to her most recent climax. They fired their guns. Scattered, unorganised shooting. A futile act to comfort them as they tried to turn tail and run. Just because she didn't need to give a grand display of strength didn't mean she wasn't going to. Her laughter rumbled like the thunder outside, storm still raging.

She was going to kill them all. All but one anyway. One that she'd ask a question to. She only had one question: 'Where's Smith?'


In the showers three women were continuing to bloody and bruise one another. The surroundings as well as the inmates were being battered. Waist high walls had been collapsed in some areas, blue chips of tile littered the floor like fallen leaves.  Pipes had been bent and ruptured, spraying water along one wall.

Trish and Jessica had done remarkably well as a duo. Both had received about as much damage as they'd dished out. The surprise attack from Jessica, the numbers game and the enclosed space were adding up. Vásquez was breathing heavy, blood dripping from her hip to mix with the puddles on the floor. Knife still sticking out of her back, she was covered in bruises. Left eye swollen, right eyebrow gashed open, blood in her teeth. Yet she refused to stop.

Jessica was gassed out, fuel tank running empty after repeated clashes. She'd protected her head from most strikes but had been taking hits every time she got close. Her limbs now felt like lead, forearms dyed blue and purple. Not only that, but she'd also been thrown against the wall, leaving her hunched over to the left, back and side aching. There were probably some broken bones somewhere.

Trish was doing even worse. Despite her stamina being better, she'd been fighting for longer than Jessica and her older injuries haggled her, sapping her energy. She still felt like she was seeing triple and, although adrenaline was carrying her, she felt like she could topple over at any second.

"What the FUCK are you guys doing?!" An angry voice bellowed. The trio didn't turn to look, afraid that the others would take advantage. Instead, they edged themselves around marginally, glancing precariously at the source of the voice. "Are you all imbeciles?!" Ranted a sweaty, red-faced Selina. She'd run here, through the holding cells and through the crowds in the halls. Everywhere she found morons still fighting. "You three are squabbling like children in the fucking showers while the whole prison is falling apart!" Her arms waved wildly. None of them had seen her this animated before. "Everyone! Punching and kicking and - People are dying!"

"Selina, this isn't the time." Vásquez said, not dropping her guard.

"This is the ONLY time. Andrea, you have to stop. You all do! Amber is tearing everyone apart. Lobos, Nation, K13, Niners!" That got everyone's attention. Heads turned to Selina now.

"Amber? What the fuck can she do by herself?" Grunted Trish.

"I do not know what she did but she is a giant now! Taller than you!" She pointed at Vásquez. "More than double your size." A ripple of disbelief killed the animosity momentarily.

"How the fuck is that even possible?" Jessica mumbled.

"Where's Jennifer? Where's Maria?" Vásquez asked, voice terse.

"I do not know! The riots are everywhere. Amber is in the holding cells but Maria and Jennifer are gone!" Selina answered.

"Jennifer wasn't in her cell this morning." Jessica said. Everyone looked to her, the only person in the group that had seen inside of her cell today. "Rachel was dead and Jennifer was gone." She said, voice steady and monotone, still not over finding her friend that way.

"Fuck." Trish had an epiphany, understanding what must have happened. She thought aloud, "they fucking planned this... Jennifer stole an ID card for Smith's little testing grounds. The aryans must have known. They - they kidnapped her and took her to the labs. That's how Amber grew. She must have used Jennifer to get in there and take a bunch of G37." The silence settled, each of the amazonians taking all the information in.

"We have to stop her." Selina broke the silence.

"Fuck that." Scoffed Jessica. "How would we even try? We're like toys compared to someone double her size." She jutted her chin angrily at her former opponent.

"She's killing Lobos." Vásquez stated, a new anger blooming. "I don't give a fuck how big she is."


"Ohhhhhhh." Trish waved her hands, "big, bad Vásquez on the case." She mocked.

"Fuck you." The titan spat back. "Didn't have any trouble fighting me, why you being a pussy now?"  

"Look how well that's going." Jessica was indignant, swinging her arms up wide to present her current state. She gave a grunt, leaning to one side to stop the pain. "I'm falling apart. So is Trish and so are you. This wasn't some walk in the fuckin' park, V. And if she's that fucking big, we can't do shit."

"If we weren't so beat up it wouldn't be a problem." Vásquez rubbed her eye, smearing the blood from her eyebrow out of her vision.

"Oh, and whose fault is that?" Trish leaned on a wall, adrenaline dwindling in her blood stream.

"Fuck off. You two both been planning this. If you didn't lie we wouldn't be here."

Trish stood and the atmosphere in the showers began heating back up. "Enough!" Selina barked. "Children. You're acting like children! Amber is torturing people to death and you still want to fight each other?" Trish stepped back and slunked down along the wall. Vásquez, proud and tall, finally sagged a little.

"So what? You got a plan?" Doubt laced Jessica's voice. There was a short quiet.

"I do not." Selina eventually said. "Maybe we cannot stop her but we need to at least help people. We..."

"Need to find Jennifer." Trish cut in. "We need to get to those labs and find out what happened. There must be some counter serum or something. They couldn't have been stupid enough to not have fail safes."

"We still need to go through the holding cells to get to medbay." Jessica added, shaking her head, clearly not enjoying that notion.

"Blah, blah, fucking blah. Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." Vásquez drew herself up again. "I'm going. If you two have a spine between you, you'll come too. C'mon, Selina. Let's go."

"Andrea, we need to stick together!" The massive woman shuffled out, ignoring the smugglers protests. Selina followed, trying to calm her friend down. Jessica looked to Trish who threw her hands up, annoyed.

"Fuck it, let's go see how big this nazi whore actually is. Gotta go that way no matter what anyway."

Chapter 17: The clash by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Okay, so you guys seem fine with brutal stuff... So I let loose and had Amber go full rampage. Just a warning in advance 😅


Also, I added a vore tag. What happens isn't strictly vore but it's kinda close, so better safe than sorry!

Black clouds kept the sun's rays blocked, rain continuing to lash the penitentiary and it's surroundings. The storm wasn't letting up any time soon. 

Alvarez snapped alive, hacking coughs, sputtering. Amber's juices left her, oxygen replacing it in her lungs. She sat up, abs struggling against the weight of her heavy, grool saturated overalls. Her entire body was slimey, practically pasted to the ground by a film of the stuff.

There wasn't much time to recover or even question how she was alive. Gunfire and screams and tear gas flooded her senses. Bloodshot eyes rolled, flashing lights making her pupils dance wildly. Alvarez's muscles burned with fatigue as she pushed up off of the ground. The floor shook and she collapsed, scraping the floor as survival instincts pushed her to the cells. Somewhere out of sight. Anywhere safer. A stray bullet whizzed passed her just as she hurled herself over a body and into an empty cell.

Spinning wildly, she crouched down, grabbing the bars, trying to stealthily look out and make sense of what was happening. Her eyes widened, she was just in time to see Amber lift her foot up high above a guard. The shadow over him seemed like a mark of death, a black spot on a sailor's hand.

This wasn't a superstition though. In a flash the foot came down. The power behind it was of a magnitude that Alvarez couldn't even fathom. The building shook, the lights flickered and a crater formed where a man had been. The floor had exploded around the foot, fissures opening up and concrete flying up into the air. As if it were nothing, Amber moved onto her next target, leaving only a splatter of paint on the ground. It was barbaric but more cold than anything. Weightless. To her, she was killing bugs.

Alvarez realised two things then. Firstly, Amber was bigger. Noticeably, much bigger. The woman had to hunch down in the holding cells, shoulders bunched up and nearly touching the ceiling. No wonder the guards looked so ridiculously mouse like, dashing and darting around her feet, attempting to escape.

An escape that was impossible to reach. The second thing Alvarez noticed was that Amber had barricaded the closest set of doors. The gangway she'd found Wendy on was propped up against the gaping hole she'd created, stopping anyone from leaving in the direction of the medbay. Alvarez doubted any of them could run to the doors that led the showers, let alone the length of the hall to the canteen set of double doors.

The squad of 33 guards had already, easily, been whittled down to less than 20. Amber casually stepped into the group, splitting them, some running back the way they came. One brave guard stood his ground, firing into the white wall. Amber picked him up, having earned her attention. She blew him a kiss and then extended her arms and clapped her hands together, inertia and G force keeping the guard in her palm. An explosion of gore splattered the ceiling, a shower of blood raining down to the floor.

"Mhhhhmmmm." Amber shivered, separating her hand, strings of blood connecting them. Opening and closing them, squelching remains and relishing how easy this all was she laughed, "isn't this fun, boys?" Wiping her hands along her thighs, the same way someone would if they'd just washed their hands in a restroom, she left huge, bloody, smudged hand prints along her quads and ass. A few stragglers were making a break for the far doors. The massive woman easily caught up to the three men, a kick blasting one to pieces, his legs flinging up in two arches, torso splatting the ceiling.

"You guys are just SO," her face scrunched up, foot lifting. "Cute!" Another guard crushed flat. She turned her attention to the last guard on this side of the room. "Just, cute enough to eat!" The man was hoisted up into the air, birch trees coiled around his buttletproof vest. His petrified face was brought up to Amber's, making his stomach free fall and his ears pop.

Grinning, cherry blossom toned lips split open to show pearl like teeth. They opened too and the blackness inside sent a chill through Alvarez. A long, moist, pink organ slipped passed her teeth, running along her lips. The guard realised what was about to happen, pleading and begging as he was brought forwards like a lollipop. Amber's tongue arched out to greet him, dripping saliva onto her tits. The tip grazed him teasingly, then, deciding playtime was over, she pushed his face into the rough, soft, wet mattress. It twisted and swirled, slathering him in her spit, pulling him into her mouth.

Alvarez suddenly remembered watching Carlos sat behind his desk, casually rolling a cigar between his fingers. She recalled the way he nonchalantly fed the end into a cutter and, with a sharp chunk, snipped it away.

That's exactly what she watched Amber do to that guard. She guillotined him with her teeth, snipping his head off, the bud of a flower from a stem.

Blood sprayed into Amber's mouth, gushing down her chin and front, waterfalling off of her chest to splatter the floor. The already panicked guards went into a desperate frenzy now, all sense of order and training a memory lost in the fog. Amber played with the head in her mouth like it was a piece of candy, moving it around with her tongue and running it along the inside of her cheek. Her chest expanded with a huge inhale, she puckered her lips and spit the head. It cut a straight line through the hall, directly into the group of men on the other side. It hit one man square in the chest, grounding him, winded. Their fear dialled up to a new level, remaining guards scattering away from the downed man and the head rolling across the floor.

"Aw, don't run guys!" Giggled Amber. In a single step she closed the distance. Purposefully, she placed the step, foot eclipsing the struck down guard. Heel - toe. Like she was on a catwalk, Amber carefully brought her foot down. Maliciously, she did it slowly. The guards she'd stomped earlier had been fun but this time she wanted to feel it. Like, really feel it. So when her foot lowered, it came down excruciatingly slow. Slow enough that the man swallowed up beneath the foot felt every part of it. Bones popped and dislocated up his legs first, the foot acting as a steam roller. His scream split Alvarez's ear, making her heart thunder in her chest, a dark trauma rooting itself in her mind. Mercifully, the screaming stopped - he must have gone into shock - before the ball of her foot came down on his face. Without a doubt, this rampage would be haunting Alvarez for the rest of her life, plaguing her waking thoughts and her dreams.

Dropping to her knees, Amber made the whole of cell block B shake. A dozen men were penned in with her, the predator chasing them looming ahead. Using a fist like a hammer, Amber flatten the next man. If this had been a cartoon he'd have been driven into the floor like a nail. This wasn't a cartoon. He exploded. Blood gushed out from under the hand. That same mallet swung out, back of the fist catching two of the fleeing men, sending them both flying. Sacks of bone shards fell to the ground, twisted heaps - what would be left of a person after they were hit by a truck.

Nine remained. Alvarez wasn't sure if the men that started firing did so as a distraction for the others or as a final act of defiance. It was too late though. The bullets hardly drew blood at this point and the woven steel of muscle fibers beneath Amber's skin would have probably served better than kevlar. Completely undeterred, she dispatched more guards in an equally brutal fashion. Alvarez couldn't look away, hidden in her cell. No matter how much she tried she just couldn't peel her eyes away.

When there were only three men left Amber slowed down. All fight had drained from the men, a bleak hopelessness meaning they'd given up. She snatched them up like toys and then took a seat on her 'throne'. Her swollen form dwarfed the hill, making it so small to her that she may as well have sat on the ground. Her knees were propped up, wrists balancing on them, three six foot plus men held in her hands. Her blood covered chin and chest made her look like a vampire queen that had been drinking her fill messily. "Okay, boys. Game time. I have a question that I want answered."

'Great, more games.' Alvarez thought. She reeked of Amber's sex, the scent somehow refusing to slip away with habituation. She guessed that's just how strong of a scent it was.

"Where's Smith?" Amber rumbled, looking to the single man in her left hand.

"What? I-I d-d-d"

"Uh-uh-uh- bzzzzzzzt." Amber mocked his stuttering evily and then made the sound of a buzzer going off. His eyes bulged and he thrashed in her hands. He fought against the tightening fingers that compressed him, squeezed and constricted him. The aryan watched his face turn maroon with fascination, a wheeze of a breath leaving him. He clawed at her thumb and knuckles, her forearm swelling in front of him.

A single crack cut the air. Then another. Then three - four - six - a dozen. Then nothing. Amber threw him over her shoulder, a discarded, crushed Styrofoam cup that she was done with.

With her one free hand she pointed a huge index finger at the face of one guard in her right hand. "You. Smith. Where?"

"I don't know!" He cried, tears streaming over his cheeks, only slightly more in control of his panic.

"Eeeeeeeeeen." Another buzzer. "Wrong answer." Amber extended her ring and pinkie finger, middle finger held down by her thumb. Her hand rose, aligning the middle finger's trajectory with his face. Alvarez's knuckles turned a shade of egg shell as she held the bars, watching in horror. She knew the flick from a 28 foot tall woman would be devastating but she hadn't expected it to have the effect it did. It was like a point blank shotgun blast, almost vaporising his head completely.

A blood spattered, shell shocked final guard was hyper ventilating, trying to process what had just happened. Skull fragments buried in his cheek, stuck in Amber's grasp with a headless corpse, he tried to formulate an answer. She relaxed her fingers and let the cadaver slip free. Her hand moved into a more horizontal position, keeping the guard laid on his back, fingers pinning his arms, stab proof vest exposed. Amber didn't bother to ask the question this time, instead she let off another cannon blast of a flick right into his protected chest. From the wail, Alvarez knew that it had still immensely hurt.

"Smith."

"I-I think I kn-kn-" her middle finger impacted again, surely snapping ribs.

"Faster."

"I know where he is!" Blurted the guard.


"Is it going to take much longer?" Jennifer asked, tapping her foot, nerves refusing to calm. Her eyes were burning little holes into the grainy image of Amber, even larger, rampaging all over again. She squeezed her eyes shut as the aryan lifted a foot high and brought it down on a tiny guard. She turned away from the monitor reopening her eyes in Cassandra's direction.

"Just a little longer." The scientist had her back to the monitors. A shiver ran through her hands as she tried to pippet a deep magenta liquid into a test tube. Stopping, the woman placed her hands on the counter. She'd seen Amber's swathe of destruction and further growth. This was her fault and right now the only solution could lay in her hands. A few millilitres of liquid and the whole thing could be ruined. She thought back to the thousands of times she'd done this exact procedure. A deep breath calmed the quiver in her hands. She was fine. This would work.

Jennifer decided that bothering the scientist now wouldn't be smart. She didn't know how to keep herself busy while she waited. Watching the monitor, seeing Amber chomp someone's - immediately she turned away, clicking another camera into view. She'd searched for her friends thrice already, but she couldn't stomach more of the Amber show.

Where were they? Were they safe? She had her fingers crossed that they were staying as far away from the holding cells as possible. A system had formed going through the cameras. Always going out from holding, she'd check systematically. Library, canteen, showers, medbay.

By now the fighting was dying off. Jennifer was amazed it had lasted so long with the threat of a giant nazi so close by. Even still, the gangs were spreading out, splintering out to lick their wounds and regroup. Without Vásquez the Lobos had taken a pretty severe beating in the riot. What was left of them were secured in the library. Maria was stood on the desks, shouting to her followers. Her spirit clearly holding out even with everything that had happened.

The canteen was full of K13, Nation and Niners, barricading themselves in.

Clicking away from that view, Jennifer's heart skipped a beat, a patch of muted red on screen. "Holy shit!" She squealed, seeing not one, but all of the other G37 subjects. Her happiness melted away when she saw the condition they were all in. "What the fuck?" She hissed to herself leaning in. All the women apart from Selina looked like they'd been put through a wringer. They left the view of one camera and went to another.

Confusion became fear when Jennifer realised the direction they were heading in. "Cassandra, you need to hurry."

"What? Why?" Asked Cassandra, loading two test tubes into a centrifuge, making sure to balance the weight.

"Trish, Jessica, Selina and Vásquez are all heading towards Amber. Right now." She pointed at the monitor before grabbing the mouse and frantically clicking to enlarge a shot of corridor.

"Oh, for fuck sake." Whined Cassandra. She pressed a button and the centrifuge hummed, test tubes accelerating, spinning. "Alright, three minutes. That's all I'll need."


"We need to stay quiet. If what Selina is saying is true then we should scope out the situation and try to sneak into the labs." Trish tried to explain. She had a suspicion that it would fall on deaf ears but, to her surprise, Vásquez nodded.

They'd picked their way through the now quiet corridors. It was eerily soundless, silence being rare in a prison with this many inmates. All it did was heighten the anxious energy of the women as they got closer to the holding cells.

At the double doors the women peered in. "Fuck meeee." Jessica whispered. What they saw was an abomination. An atrocious map of chiselled, immense muscle, paired with ludicrous swells of fantastical curves. Skin drawn so tight that it shimmered, crimson lines like bursting seams radiating out, wobbly lines tracing the swollen shapes beneath. Fresh blood shone on her bust and ass and legs like wet paint. There was also dried, flakey, brown blood all over her too, signalling this had been going on for some time. Just seeing her told a story of the carnage she'd wreaked, let alone the corpses. The bodies, all over the hall, embellished the story further, giving an insight to little details of her rampage. Some intact, some mangled into gruesome shapes. Blood and viscera all over, even across the ceiling. It looked like a warzone.

"Look." Trish pointed to the hole in the wall where a pair of doors used to sit, next to Amber's hips. "She came from the labs. If we can climb that we can get through."

"And how do we get passed her?" Vásquez asked, picking out fallen Lobos members from the scores on the ground. There were dark rings around her eyes now, face pale from blood loss.

Trish nibbled her lip. Amber was facing the opposite wall, back to the shower double doors. If they stuck to the cells along the wall, it was possible. "We use our fucking heads and sneak passed." She held a finger to her lips, opening the door slowly.

All the women jumped, a heavy crashing thud hitting the wall. Trish caught the door before it could slam back shut. A guard's body landed on the ground not too far from where they stood. It was crushed almost beyond recognition.

They all craned to stare at the crumpled, broken body. "My God." Selina croaked. She'd seen dozens upon dozens of bodies in her line of work. This was nothing like that. Cruelty and power personified in a single wordless symbol.

"Is this a good idea?" Jessica gripped Trish's shoulder. "Why don't we just hole up and wait her out. That bald fuck will be calling in the cavalry."

Trish pondered for a moment. Sobbing oozed out from the gap in the doors, giving a terrible soundtrack for her thoughts. It was the last guard being tortured by Amber. Smith was too much of a liability, there was no telling how long his help would take to arrive. "We can't leave it up to him. She's distracted now, this is our only chance." She finally said.

Vásquez pushed on the door. "Right answer. C'mon." She brushed passed the women, stooping through the doorway, leading the group. Stepping over bodies almost casually, Vásquez somehow made no noise at all. For someone so large and so injured, it felt unfair that she could flit across the hall with silent movements. She moved with a feline grace, fully in control of every step and movement.

"Fuck sake." Jessica said. The other women followed more carefully, measuring each step and checking for anything that could alert Amber. Selina was the closest to Vásquez, with Trish not far behind. Jessica followed tentatively at the rear. Selina felt like she was in a nightmare fairytail, ready to steal gold and plunder a giants house, the threat of being smote down by the aryan only a hair away.

"What!?" Amber shouted, everyone flinching. There was a gurgled, weak, blood filled response from the figure in her hand. "Where? Where would he go to leave!?" They continued edging closer, hoping she wouldn't suddenly turn to look their way, annoyed with the guard. Every step carried them closer to the mountain, growing her larger in their perspective. Her sheer size really began to dawn on the group when they were only a handful of yards away. Sat on her ass, she towered over all of them easily, her back probably wider than all four of them stood shoulder to shoulder.

'Just a little more...' Thought Trish. They were almost there.

Whatever answer the guard gave to Amber was inaudible to the group. However, her reaction, sitting up and exhaling hard, froze them. Vásquez was so, so close to the door now. She could feel the breeze coming from down the opening in the wall.

Across from her Alvarez, who had receded into the darkness of the cell she occupied, was watching Vásquez and the other women. They finally made eye contact and Vásquez signed for her to stay low and quiet. Alvarez shuffled forwards, trying to get a better view and knocked against the bed in the cell, making it grate against the floor.

Amber's ears gave a predatory twitch and, slowly, she turned her head down and towards the sound. A smile tugged at her lips, fingers letting the final guard drop. There was a new toy to play with.

Jessica, Trish and Selina hurried quietly to the wall, worried Amber might see them in her peripheral vision. Vásquez wasn't moving, watching Amber, shoulders tensing.

"Oh, Ally! I'd forgotten about you." Amber squealed, giggling. "I'm surprised you survived my man eater gobbling you up." Amber slid off of the mound of death, twisting, transitioning onto her stomach. Her tits pressed the ground, spreading beneath her, spilling outwards. Vásquez darted out of the way, skirting passed a leg, just about making it in time. The group of women had been fractured by the landscape shifting. The large white hills of Amber's thighs split them from one another. The trio on one side, Vásquez on the other, next to the door. Trish held her breath, praying that Vásquez would just go and find Jennifer.

Amber was laid out like a cheerleader in a horror movie, feet bobbing up and down as she gushed down the phone to her boyfriend. She was so big that this was the only way she could completely see into the bottom row of cells. Her face filled the entrance, leering at Alvarez, pale braid falling over one shoulder. Alvarez could see the blood still on her teeth from the poor beheaded guard.

"Why don't you come out, Ally?" Amber hooked her fingers around the open cell door, teasingly. She pulled, bending the bars like rubber, making the cell creak. "You know I can get you out of there, right? But I'm asking nicely, please come out. Come out so I can fucking murder you." She sang happily, contrasting the tone of the words she said.

Alvarez knew she'd fucked up. She'd survived one encounter with Amber, but she wasn't going to be that lucky a second time. A resolute anger welled up inside of her. Knowing that Vásquez was trying to sneak passed, she decided that if this was it, she'd at least go down with some purpose. She wasn't going to let Vásquez and the other ladies pay for her mistake. It was time to be a distraction.

"You want me so bad, come and fucking get me!" She screamed, throwing the bed down over the front of the cell and pressing herself against the wall, near the toilet.

Amber's playful expression darkened. Steel was ripped from concrete with little more than a twist of her hand, concrete crumbling away from the wall. She was moving the bunk bed out of the way when a voice surprised her. "Hey, fuck face!" Amber turned to see Vásquez charging at her.

The 10 foot tall woman had grabbed a baton off the ground and lunged, stabbing it directly into Amber's left eye.

A banshee screech deafened everyone, Amber, reeling, rolling away, bulldozing the wreckage she'd created. Clutching at her eye, she ploughed over bodies and debris. The trio moved back, trying to escape the Amberlanche. Alvarez was only shocked for a second. She vaulted the bed, sprinting to Vásquez. "Go find Maria." Was all she said. Alvarez's lip quivered as she took Vásquez in. She was truly battered, whisps of obsidian hair loose from the pony tail, face ashen, covered in blood, sagging under her own weight. A hand on her back gently pushed Alvarez forwards and she began to move. She nodded, sprinting away. Her life was once again gifted back to her by Vásquez.

Amber was on all fours, growls and grunts slipping out of her as she panted like a wounded animal. She delicately picked at the baton, trying not to damage her eye further, pulling it free.

"Fuck this." Jessica said, turning to run off behind Alvarez, taking this brief chance.

"Hey!" Trish shouted, but couldn't catch the Niner in time. Maybe she'd made the right choice, she thought, frowning. Already Amber had extracted the baton and was, no doubt, healing.

Vásquez shouted over to the Trish and Selina in Spanish. The smaller woman turned to Trish, "she said, 'go for her knees'."

"You know, I'm kinda happy you two are here." Grumbled Amber, slowly getting to one knee. "I wanted to kill you two the most out of everyone." Standing to her full, dread inducing height, she looked down from Vásquez to the two other women. "Such good timing. I'm running out of time to have fun."

Vásquez gradually back pedalled, creating as much space between her and the duo as possible. She didn't need to explain further, Trish knew exactly what the plan was. Stay apart, bring her down and pick at her. On the ground they'd at least be able to reach her face better.

Amber's freshly healed eye glowed an even brighter blue as she stared down at Vásquez. "Eenie," she looked to Trish, "minie," Selina, "mineie, mo-"

"Shut the fuck up." the ten foot woman said. "You know I'm first pick." Amber's mood soured. Fear. Fear is what she should be feeling. She wanted to feed off of Vásquez's fear like everyone else's. "I guess you always were the biggest bitch in here." She shrugged. "Now it's only figurative." Her movements were like lightning, a flash of a dash towards Vásquez. Trish moved fast, chasing the shadow of the woman with Selina.

Vásquez knew she wouldn't be able to dodge the kick. She instead braced and went into it, marginally shifting to the side. The kick glance her, sending her twirling into her real target - Amber's other ankle.

Vásquez collided with the shin of the leg, shoving at it while Trish and Selina came from the back. Trish speared into the back of her knee, powerful legs propelling all of her might into that little nook.

The aryan, caught by surprise, fell forwards. Her hands came up to slow her fall but before they reached the ground, her face smashed into a patch of remaining walkway.

Trish tried to take advantage, trying to get to her face and gouge the other eye. Selina was attempting to help Vásquez to her feet. The larger latina was having trouble.

Trish couldn't reach the walkway in time. Amber was too durable. Too big. Too fast. An open palm swatted at her, sending her crashing into the bars of a nearby cell, warping the metal.

An irate Amber loomed over Selina and Vasquez, fury boiling her blood. Vásquez was draped over her friend, blood drooling out of the corner of her mouth. "Go." She rasped, trying to push Selina away.

Selina didn't get to reply. A colossal hand grabbed her. "Aw, trying to help your friend?" Amber asked, broken nose mending itself. Her hand swelled subtly around her captured annoyance. "To think I wanted to keep you here. You saved me a lot of searching instead. Thanks for delivering them to me." She sneered.

Selina spat at Amber's face. A stream of Spanish curses left her. She kicked and trashed, sleepy demeanour completely gone. Hatred burned in her eyes. Amber rolled her eyes, "Speak English, bitch."

"Leaver her alone!" Shouted a weary Vásquez, stumbling around on the ground like a drunkard. Amber grinned passed the globes of her breasts. She held eye contact and closed her fist hard. Selina cried out for a moment. She spat blood onto Amber's hand and turned her head towards Vásquez. Spanish words weakly tumbled out of her. Vásquez listened, managing to balance,eyes brimming. Two sets of pale trunks wrapped around Selina but she continued speaking. Amber twisted.

The sound was too much for Vásquez. Tears ran along her hot cheeks, vision blurring. As if the storm clouds overhead wasn't doing enough to hide the afternoon sun, the shadow of a massive sole blackened her world further.

She brought her arms up to block the stomp but was still forced onto the ground by it. Unlike the guards and the other inmates, Vásquez was larger. The foot didn't engulf her whole body but just her torso as she was crushed down onto her back.

The knife dug deeper into her side, a second stomp pushing her into the cracking concrete. Then a third. A fourth. Her arms were flat against her chest for the fifth. She was limp by the sixth. She wasn't moving by the seventh. Vásquez was buried in rubble, bones broken and life slipping through her fingers like sand.

"You're fucking pathetic." Amber said, hand exploring her sex absentmindedly. "Then again, everyone is when compared to perfection, I guess." She sighed.

Trish dragged herself upright using the bars. She fell onto her ass, clanging against them. Amber cast her gaze over to the fallen Nation member. She thought for a moment. "I'll finish you off later. After I find that dirty, race traitor whore of yours. I'll snap her in half in front of you." She ran her tongue over her teeth and smiled. "First, I need to find Smith. Make sure my new boy toy isn't running off without me." Amber gave an abrupt laugh. Wriggling her fingers in a wave, she turned to leave the holding cells. Approaching the wall, she drove a fist through it, rain and wind pouring in through the gap. Using both hands she gripped the edges of the her new exit and ripped bricks apart in handfuls.

Muscling her way out, taking some bricks with her, the 30 foot tall woman stepped into the rain. Teeny tiny droplets splashing across her form, washing away the blood and dust, she heaved a deep breath of the cool air. Arms spread wide she looked to the sky. A baptism. A new beginning of freedom. First stop was Smith.

For a few minutes Amber's thunderous footsteps, the rain and the howling wind were the only sounds in the holding cells. Trish closed her eyes, a gasp coming from her, pain searing her body. All things considered, she wasn't too badly hurt. Not compared to the others. "Yo, Vásquez?" She called out. She couldn't see her breathing. Hurried footsteps could be heard down the corridor leading to medbay and Trish wobbled to her feet.

Her heart soared when she saw who it was. Jennifer, squeezing through a gap between the wall and the gangway. Trish took a few unsteady steps, only to fall forwards. Jennifer rushed up to catch her, hugging her tight. "Oh my God." Jennifer sobbed into her. "Are you okay? What happened? Where is everyone?"

Trish sank against Jennifer biting back her own bursting dam of emotions. "Amber killed them. She fucking.... We can't fucking stop her."

"What? Where... What?!" Jennifer loosened her hug, stepping back to help Trish to a seated position. She looked out at the tornado of blood and destruction. She saw the hole in the wall and the bodies and the.... The caved in floor. The crater. The two legs poking out, the huge oak trees that looked so small and fragile now. "Vásquez?" She breathed. "Vásquez?!" She shouted, getting to her feet, running.

"She's dead, Jen." Said Trish. "We need to get out of here. We need to fucking go!"

Jennifer stopped at the lip of the hole, stomach turning. She felt sick. She felt like throwing up. But most all her heart ached. Falling into the dipped conrecete she crawled to Vásquez's broken body. "No, no, no, no." grabbing at her, shaking her. Her black hair spooled around her like a lie of a halo. Blood pooling out around her back.

Trish limped forwards. "We don't have time for this." An anger formed. "It's... Jen, she's de-"

"Blondie?" A weak wheeze more than a word.

"Vásquez?!" Even Jennifer was surprised. She gripped one of her hands in both of hers, the calloused bumps feeling familiar.

"You... Need to go."

"Don't talk. We... We can get you help."

"No. You... Go..." Vásquez coughed blood. "Maria. Tell her I sen-sent you. Both..." The hand fell from Jennifer's to the ground, the light slowly fading from her eyes. All she could do was stare. Her shoulders shook, barely restrained sobs.

Lightning flashed through the gap in the wall and illuminated the syringe in Jennifer's hand. The syringe full of golden, ochre ambrosia. It wasn't a huge, triple pronged monster of a machine. It was a tiny, simple needle. Jennifer's fist closed around it again.

"What is that?" Trish asked. "Jennifer, what the fuck is that?"

The hunched over inmate brought the needle to her mouth, gripping the plastic cover between her teeth and pulling the sharp nib free. She spat the plastic out.

"It's revenge."

Chapter 18: One last chance by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Shorter than I'd hoped. I'll probably write one more chapter to conclude this all and have an epilogue to fully wrap things up!

Cassandra capped the needle carefully and finally let her shoulders sag. It was done. Well, her part, at least. She turned to a jittery, nervous Jennifer and felt a twinge of worry. Was she really up to this?

It took every ounce of Jennifer's willpower to keep her eyes off of the camera feed. It wouldn't help. She knew that but she felt the unending urge to see what was happening between the inmates. It wouldn't calm her. If anything it would just make her even more inconsolably worried. All she knew was that she needed to be there. Now.

"Hey." Cassandra snapped her fingers up at the taller woman's face, bringing her attention away from the gladiatorial spectical for good. "This is important. What is this?" She held the syringe up to Jennifer's face.

"A last resort."

"Good. It's the last chance. You take this only when you've got to. Got it?" Jennifer gave a short nod. "I'm serious, it's like... 50-50. Literally, if the odds were any worse I'd just suggest giving it to Amber. Maybe her massive, cunt heart would explode." She shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh.

Cassandra held it out. Jennifer looked at the unassuming golden mixture, going to take it but Cassandra held it tight. They locked eyes. "This is our only shot. One shot. One chance." Cassandra sounded like she was going to cry, "a-and if you don't want to risk it, I understand." She let go.

Jennifer didn't ask why the colour was different. Nor did she ask how they knew this would work. Cassandra squeezed her arm when she got to the door. "Please stay safe. If you can't stop her... Just... Just hide, okay?" Jennifer knew this was difficult for her. She couldn't tell who wanted this to end more.

"I gotta go." She said, finally. Cassandra went to the bulky, metal door and pulled the stiff handle down.

"Good luck."

That conversation echoed in her head as she was sat next to Vásquez's body. One shot. One chance. 50-50. The concepts swirled in a whirlpool of thoughts. Doubts, fears and the overwhelming pressure weighed on her shoulders. She could save everyone, fail horribly or die. Her eyes moved from Vásquez to Trish and then back to her own hand.

One shot. One chance. Death. Watching the light in Vásquez's eyes dim, a glassy quality coming over them, the last word rang louder. Trish was behind her talking, but she sounded a million miles away. The world was moving through molasses. Slow motion. Sounds distant, even the the shrill whine of the alarm.

One shot. One chance. Death. Jennifer unsheathed the needle with her teeth, heart pounding in her chest. One shot. One chance. Her knuckles turned alabaster, hands shaking. One shot. One chance. Vision blurred, tears flowing freely, she looked to her own leg.

One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance. One shot. One chance.

"It's revenge."

Her arm rose up high in the air and came down like a gavel, her decision made. The sharp scratch of the needle entering flesh was dull. Before she could change her mind she smashed the plunger down, firing the golden liquid from it's container.

She'd needed to pull her hand up that high. She'd need to so she could punch through her breast bone. To make sure the needle hit the heart. Filled it with G38. One shot. One chance. She refused to let it slip. She refused to live her life without having tried everything, even for the monster that had scarred her with trauma. The one she knew she'd forgiven even when she'd lie and tell herself she couldn't.

That's why when nothing happened it hurt so fucking bad. She pulled the syringe from Vásquez's chest and pressed her hands into her lap, waiting, breath held in her lungs. One shot. One fucking chance. A wasted chance.

Nothing. Fucking. Happened.

Jennifer couldn't stop the sobs ripping through her. Nor the ugly sounds escaping her, or the waves of tears.

Sound finally broke through to her ears again. "Jen! Jen, what the fuck did you just do!? What was that?" Trish sounded furious, but her voice grew quieter, Jennifer showing signs of actually hearing her. "Give me a straight fucking answer."

The blonde looked up at Trish, controlling her beathing. "I couldn't not..." The words were painful to even say. The fact that it was all for naught was like a knife to the heart. "I couldn't not try." She choked out.

Sympathy weighed on Trish but a righteous anger lifted that weight, stronger than her patience and her remorse. "So you've just fucking doomed us all? For what? For her?" Trish stabbed a finger at the prone body laid in the hole. "Seriously, you need to fucking explain what is going on between you two." The betrayal stung Trish, her response cutting into Jennifer. "I thought you hated her. I thought you hated her like I do."

Jennifer was so completely torn. Two people she loved in different ways had been pulling her apart. It all caught up in the end. She sniffled, trying to explain. "Trish, it's not that simple. She's -"

Trish held up a hand, stopping any further chatter. "Enough." Was all she said. "I'm too tired, too beat up and too hurt to deal with this." A far off boom rocked the penitentiary. Trish took it as a sign, hobbling away, towards the labs. She was still certain it would be the safest place in the prison. Jennifer looked to Vásquez. Wriggling her fingers into her large hand, she squeezed. Her stomach clenched, feeling the broken bones. It was just like running her fingers over the scars on her back. Battle scars. A lifetime of them. It made Jennifer's tears flow faster. Once again she was forced to decide. Decide to follow Trish or to mourn for just a little longer...


Frantically, Smith stuffed paperwork into a brief case. He was stood with his back to a large exit, fierce gusts of wind doing their best to rip the sheets of paper from his grasp. They came breezing into the garage from outside, rain splashing his feet. He could scarcely believe this was the same desert that had been drier than a bone less than 24 hours ago. Where had the sun gone?

"Sir, we're prepped." Came a trusted voice. One of the guards he'd had shuttled in when things began to look dicey. Specially trained muscle ready to get him out of here before even a single finger could be laid on him. He was showing his worth now, even if he did seemed a tad outgunned.

"Can't you bring the vehicle in?" Smith asked, reluctant to step out into the dark rain.

"Our vehicle is too wide sir." The military humvee that they'd brought for Smith's personal use was a stout, stocky, imposing vehicle. Bullet proof windows, a sturdy, bomb proof frame and a number of other protective features meant the vehicle was practically a tank. The penitentiary typically used large white buses to cart people in and out which, although longer, were narrower than the humvee.

Smith cursed under his breath and put the briefcase down, looking for the olive drab poncho he'd been given for 'when it rained'. That had tickled him at the time, not believing it possible for the area. Once waterproofed he and the soldier went out into the storm.

Heavy, rotund droplets that felt like stones beat down on Smith. One hand carried his briefcase while the other clutched his flapping hood, keeping it in place. Two small silhouettes digging and fumbling into the tempest. The pale, sickly light of the soldier's flashlight did little to penetrate the inky world around them. Brief flashes of electricity in the sky were more proficient at clarifying their path. The floor shook and thunder boomed. Just as Smith was beginning to wonder where the humvee was he felt a flood of relief. The massive, squat machine of a car was sat not far ahead, Smith repressed the urge to berate his guard. He wanted to question why it had been parked so far away from the garage, but instead gladly accepted that he wasn't stuck in some never-ending liminal space. Once in the car he'd finally feel fully relaxed.

The ground shook violently and the two men wobbled. There hadn't been any thunder. The soldier steadied Smith and scanned the surroundings, butt of his shotgun pressed to his cheek. With such low visibility he felt unnerved, but nothing dangerous was visible. "Quickly." He said, gesturing for Smith to go to the car.

Further prompting was not necessary. The bald man went running. He clattered against the side panel and ripped the door open, sliding into the back seat. Through the window he watched the soldier run to the driver seat door, grip the handle and then, as the door opened, he disappeared. Disappeared isn't entirely accurate. Smith had the surreal chance to watch a man be pulled up into the sky. The soldier's grasp on the handle had been strong, he yanked the door wide open as he was captured - humvee subtly bouncing on it's suspension - terrified yelling growing distant. Smith stared at the door, eyes wide and mouth half open.

There was no sound for a moment, just the rain smacking on the interior of the protected vehicle. Tearing his eyes away from the bizarre sight, he looked out of the widow next to him. The torrential rains and darkness meant it was impo - a web lightning covered the sky and Smith felt the cold fingers of fear curl his stomach in a tight, little ball. In front of the lightning a shape had been cut out of the flash. A huge, towering shape.

Adrenaline concentrated his fear into action. Smith scuttled into the front seat, opening the sun visor and catching the keys. It was against prison protocol to keep a set there, but then he'd been above that from day one. Slamming the open door he desperately dug the key into it's home, scratching the metal with a few missed attempts. He got it in and turned, the engine, like a gargantuan dog, growling to life. Powerful headlights cast yellow beams of illumination carving through the dark. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a mud splashed pillar of pure white through the windshield. Two thoughts dominated his mind: How had she moved so quickly and silently? Secondly, with a horrifying dread, he registered that she'd clearly gotten a lot larger since the guard's siege attempt. Just how much bigger could she get?

Cranking the gears, he grit his teeth, determined to get out of here. He was basically in a moving bank vault, what could she really do?

Stamping the accelerator to the floor, he lurched forwards. Almost immediately he was rocked back, whiplash making his neck ache. Amber's foot was on the bonnet of the car, arch on the front edge, ball and toes obscuring the windshield. Smith put his foot down again, tires spinning in the mud while Amber slowly applied more and more weight, stopping the roaring, screaming humvee with minimal effort. The world tilted for Smith, back tires sinking into the mud, their spinning burying them deeper. The headlights tilted with him, shining higher up the pillar. For a brief moment he caught movement where the legs crested together. A smirk, out of Smith's view, signalled a new chapter of Amber's fun beginning.

He flinched in his seat as cracks abruptly spread over the thick glass. The geometricly shaped frame concaved and the bonnet bent in. No. No, no, this shouldn't be fucking possible. This glass was tempered. Bullet pr-

The giant, white leg that tapered off into the sky flexed. Smith's chest bashed the steering wheel, the tilt of the car being reversed as it was crushed underfoot. It's ferocious engine whimpered, force bearing down on it, distorting the bomb resistant frame further and crushing the beating heart of the machine. Grey smoke billowed out, transitioning quickly into black. Amber pushed down harder, dipping the car forwards at a steeper angle, the front of the humvee squashed into the mud. Smith pulled his legs in moments before the space they occupied was squished out of existence. He was stuck in stasis for a fistful of seconds until the stained, monstrous foot rose out of the wreckage it had created and moved over more of the humvee.

Smith leap into the back seat a heartbeat before it came down, bending the roof inwards, bursting the windows. He buried himself into the foot wells, terror shrieking through his veins as the car compressed all around. The roof pressed against the tops of the seats. They only held out for a moment before they buckled and snapped, letting it sag further down, approaching Smith. Creaking, crying metal bent collapsed in on itself, crumple zones that were not designed to be necessary suddenly being used as the impossible became reality. Smith hugged his knees to his chest, making himself as small as possible. In the fetal position, he clenched his eyes shut and began to pray to a God he hadn't believed in. He prayed that this metal box wouldn't be his coffin. Space evaporated all around him, the walls coming closer and closer and closer.

Smith opened his eyes when the metal halted it's downward pilgrimage. There was a crunch of glass, Amber pushing her fingers through what was left of the windshield. She used a foot to hold the car down and ripped upwards, tearing the roof open like the lid of a can.

Looking to the heavens, one arm shielding the rain, the tiny, bald man looked up at the almost biblical sight above him. Amber stooped down and used a few fingers to pull him from his pathetic hiding place. He felt weightless, like he was sat in a plane taking off or nose diving. Head spinning, stomach soaring inside of him, he flailed in the air, tossed high. The hand that threw him returned, slicing horizontally to catch him, sending Smith's  organs ricoheting around inside.

"Still think I'm a failed test subject?" Amber sneered to the dazed man. He couldn't answer, mouth flapping up and down. "It's your lucky day. I want to make a deal. You don't get turned into paste and you make me more."

"Huh-wha?" He mumbled, barely audible over the surroundings.

"More. More G37." She gave a teasing squeeze to emphasise her meaning. Smith's eyes widened, frazzled brain making sense of it all.

Innately, he smiled, poker face returning. "O-okay, o-of course." Sensing a chance to survive this and potentially find a profitable outcome, he slipped into business mode. Or close enough to it in his current state. "In fact... H-how about we make a truce? I'll get you as much of that shit as you want but we..." He waved the hand that wasn't under her fingers from Amber to himself. "We become a team."

Amber cocked her head to the side and gave a half smile. 'He doesn't know what he's signing up for.' She thought to herself. The balls on display did slightly impress her though. He knew when to change teams and back the real winner. Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, she thought. When he'd outlived his usefulness he'd die too. For now she gave a nod and the eager, power hungry man twisted in her grip, happily pointing out the lab worker's living quarters. Amber smiled wider. Soon no one would be able to stop her.


Vásquez felt herself slipping. The world grew dark and cold around her as her senses failed one by one. The smell of blood faded. The pain ebbed away. The feel of Jennifer's hand disappeared with it. Her voice too. The view of her own broken body. One by one they went black. Some may have thought it was peaceful or scary.

All Vásquez could think about was how fucking angry she was. How angry at Trish and Jessica. How angry at Smith. How angry at fucking Amber. Sadness punched her in the stomach as thoughts of Selina pushed to the forefront, a lone sensation in the abyss. Watching Selina die - watching another friend die was a heavy burden. A burden that was evermore crushing due to the fact that, seconds before she died, Selina had made her make a promise. A promise Vásquez hadn't been able to keep. Vásquez had failed her. She'd broken the final promise that Selina had asked of her and that was inexcusable. It made her feel ashamed and dirty. Not even her dead senses could stop that ache. She was most angry at herself.

A broken promise. A dead friend. She'd been powerless. POWERLESS. Completely helpless. Completely powerless again. The same way she'd been all those years ago. Someone far bigger and stronger being able to just ragdoll her and beat on her and fuck her up. Vásquez remembered that fucker stomping on her. The foot had been smaller and the man had been weaker but really it was the same fucking thing. That pendejo had stomped the shit out of her and pressed his foot against her face, forcing her into the dirt. If her heart were still pumping, her blood would have felt like magma boiling in her veins. It wasn't just Selina's promise she'd broken, after all. She'd broken a promise to herself too. A promise that she'd never feel this way again.

Fury. Rage. Anger. She didn't care if she died. She didn't care about heaven or hell. In this moment, all she cared about was one more chance. She needed to keep at least one promise. Flashes of Amber and Selina sparked out, electricity dying and succumbing to the void. That defiant essence refused to give up though. She'd pray to God for it. Pray. Beg. Fight. Just. One. More. Fucking. Ch-

Pain.

It was the first thing to return. Mind shatteringly, excruciating pain on a level Vásquez had never even imagined. Every molecule in her body was electrified. Her first gasp was so loud it echoed around the desolate hall. Jennifer leaped clean out of the crater because of it, staring at the no longer dead body. Vásquez's eyes were wide open, even the one that had been swollen almost shut. Her pupils were pinpricks of black in a field of brown, darting to and thro as senses returned and an embodiment of rage clawed back into the world of the living. Stimuli bombarded the panting, reeling woman. The light was blinding after being stuck in darkness. Her ears rang with a high pitched tone, heart beat blasting in her ears like war drums. G38 had rebooted her and now pain and anger and adrenaline became her very state of being. Limbic system teetering on the edge of meltdown, all her senses screaming, Vásquez tried to understand what was happening.

Reality began to wobble in and out of focus. Initially, she didn't notice Jennifer and found herself alone, surrounded by death and violence. Was this hell? Stuck in an eternal snapshot of time, laid out, paralysed, pain wracking her every nerve, in the place where she'd died... Reliving her failure.

Forcing her head to turn, she finally saw Jennifer. Her pained, wrathful expression softened slightly, breathing slowing into a marginally less violent pace. However, she'd originally turned to look at something else and a subconscious part of her remembered that. Her gaze drifted lower. Behind Jennifer was Selina. Or what Amber had left of her.

Memories of thoughts and regrets resurfaced, emerging from the murky blackness where they'd been created. That same white hot fury ignited again. Concern marred Jennifer's soft features as Vásquez's eyes bulged, brow hardening into furious arches and breathing descending into vicious, animal huffing. Vásquez's brain spiralled into a deep, destructive pit.

"Promise me you'll kill this bitch." Selina's final words.

Vásquez understood now. She wasn't dead. This wasn't hell. This was that chance she'd asked for.

Scrunching her eyes shut she barred her teeth and let out a noise that wasn't human. She welcomed the pain, a reminder that she was alive, but forced her battered body to move against it. Vásquez tried, and failed, to sit up. It stoked the burning rage hotter, the world dying darker and darker red.

Jennifer stepped forwards hands raised, "Oh my God..." She didn't know what to do, watching Vásquez, still incredibly injured, trying to get up. "St-stay down. I'll go get some help." She said, hands moving up and down, signalling for Vásquez to lay back. The concerned order fell on deaf, ringing ears. Vásquez again attempted to sit her damaged frame up. Shaking, she slowly willed herself forwards, movement easing bit by bit. G38 had taken root within her, the changes already had begun, wounds healing. A golden hue brighten along Vásquez's veins. Jennifer rushed forwards, adamant that the woman should stay down. Laying a hand on her shoulder, she instantly recoiled. It felt like she'd just grabbed a frying pan off of a stove. If the red overalls weren't there Jennifer was sure she'd be looking at a seared side of beef instead of her hand. Was this the G38? Was it working?

With a disgusting noise, the bones that had crumbled under Amber in Vásquez's left arm suddenly twisted into an odd shape. Moving of their own accord, muscle and bone tried to right themselves. Jennifer watched, stomach feeling like it was in a washing machine. A sharp snap was accompanied by Vásquez's head jerking forwards, her forearm jutting back into it's rightful alignment. Fingers that had been randomly bent out in different directions, like branches of a tree seeking light, crunched straight in rapid succession. Vásquez gripped a handful of concrete in her newly healed fist, dragging herself more upright.

Her right, dislocated shoulder cracked back into place and crushed, concaved ribs inflated mightily, popping and expanding with each short, quick breath that Vásquez. Her abs flared and her blood soaked overalls grew tighter around her torso.

Honey coloured eyes opened, the swelling having receded quickly around the right eye. Flecks of gold in her eyes burned so bright that they looked luminescent, as if she were truly burning inside of her skin. "AmmMmm.... BeeeEeer." Vásquez muttered, pure hatred being vented, steam from an engine. A spectre back from the dead, starved for revenge, her voice cracked and rasped, gravelly notes shifting deeper and deeper in pitch.

"What?" Jennifer asked. She'd heard the name and understood but her mind wasn't keeping up. Her worry for Vásquez chipped away. She didn't feel like she was talking to Vásquez. She didn't feel like she was talking to a person at all. Vásquez's pupils dilated larger, shoulders creaking wider in lopsided spurts of size. They pulled her red overalls, tightening the material further, forcing the front open so quickly that the zipper didn't have a chance to fall. The material around it simply split, opening along the seams. Her neck bulged with flexed muscle, veins thickening, golden liquid coursing through them. A grunt permeated the laboured breathing and Jessica's shiv hit the floor, ejected out of Vásquez's back by the tsunami of healing, strengthening flesh.

Jennifer's instincts had her backing away before she realised it, a creeping fear filling in the cracks of her worry and overwhelming it. The crater Vásquez was laid in was looking smaller and smaller, her girth filling it, more of the latina being poured into it. Jittery motions brought her right hand up to grip the lip of the opening, one hand on either side, as if she were drawing herself out of a bath tub. A bath tub that was becoming too small. Tanned fingers lengthened over the concrete and in a sudden burst of size her forearms expanded, popping more seams, settling recently broken bones, making Vásquez's fists clench. The concrete in her grasp exploded, chips and chunks firing out. Her brief climb out of the hole paused, Vásquez dropping slightly to prop herself up on her fists. Chest heaving, ripping the overalls open wider with each lungful, bloodhot eyes locked straight forwards.

"Vásquez, are you okay?" Jennifer asked, voice trembling. No answer came and the murderous form rolled to the side, onto all fours. Jennifer watched as her thighs ballooned suddenly, ripping canvas, bulging. There was a sickening crack and her knee locked back into it's natural position instead of being slightly askew. Torn ligaments were reforged into diamond, the muscles around them brimming with even more strength. A string of spit drooled out from her ruby lips, body still not fully responsive.

"Please talk to me." Jennifer begged, fearfully trying to make eye contact. But Vásquez was looking at Selina again. She looked like a fragmented China doll.

"I'm... GoNNaaaaa.... FfFuckinnn' k-kill... H-hErrrr." Spit flew as she growled the words, commanding her body to make a sentence. Jennifer felt a chill run through her. Amber's voice had been different as she grew. It had gone up and down in pitch. Vásquez's ploughed deeper and depper. Jennifer couldn't tell if that was a response to her, or if Vásquez's brain had sunk into a bottomless pit of blood lust. She flinched as a fist hammered into the ground, the growing titan warring with pain for control of her muscles.

The fist spasmed bigger, bones and muscle pushing her bronzed skin out, knuckles jumping out one after the other, veins pulsing and glowing. Vásquez wasn't even questioning any of this, she was once again, feeding off of her growth, willing it to continue. A larger, heavier fist came down again, this time smashing deeper into the loose concrete, causing Vásquez to falter and lose balance. Her hunched, curved back forced the rough material to strain around her, quick, abrupt throbs, knots of epicly proportioned muscle rising. The red canvas tore in multiple places, not able to handle the unyielding growth it contained. Flesh rippled, and danced in the gaps, over filling them, squeezing, bubbling out. Her legs grew, spurting down and out under her, knees shifting along the ground without her moving. Already torn plimsolls had no choice but to give in too, toes shoving out in shuddering spurts of size, black fabric coming apart from the rubber sole as her feet widened. Vásquez extracted her hand free and, still breathing like an enraged animal, she reared upright.

The random, almost uneven spurts of size synchronised, many small leaks became one rapid river. The trunk of her mighty body expanded, water melon breasts rising on thick pectoral, shoulders back, chest thrust forward, shredding her clothes completely in a steady expansion.

Jennifer stood before this olympian of a woman who, even on her knees, was now double her height. It was a breathtaking sight but Jennifer was still petrified by the aura coming off of the her. Vásquez let out a primal, blood curdling scream that warped into a horrid, hellish noise. It echoed through the prison, through every corridor and every hall. Everyone in cell block B heard it.

A third, final missile of a punch struck down sending cracks out in the wake of a tremor like the aftershock of an earthquake. Jennifer watched Vásquez use her planted fist to leverage her body. One foot came down, continuing it's growth, inching outwards and a monolithic structure rose. Jennifer marvelled at the nude, 25 foot tall, bronze woman. Aurelian rivers shimmered across her form as she breathed deep and heavy. Vásquez looked down to Jennifer. The tiny woman stiffened, natural instincts making her body respond to the murder staring down at her. The fury lingered, literally smouldering in her gaze, but Vásquez barley had it tempered. "Where's Amber?" Jennifer pointed to the gaping hole in the wall.


Cassandra had been sat at her desk feeling hollow. She'd been on a rollercoaster of ups and downs. First it hadn't worked, Jennifer having wasted the compound on a dead body. Then, it looked like it had worked and Cassandra just didn't know how to feel. She wanted to feel relieved but the more she watched the greater an ominous cloud grew over her. That inmate had proven herself to be ruthlessness many times over and right now she looked less human and more animal.

Her scientific mind kicked in then and Cassandra noted something interesting. Despite the accelerated growth, Vásquez proportionally didn't look all that different. While Amber had grown into a boulder of a woman, Vásquez's build was very similar to how she'd been at 10 foot tall. Not only that, but she also wasn't showing any of the red stretch marks, a sign of her size changing outpacing even her own body's tolerance. A sense of foreboding made her look away, a sideways look to her computer. The gangbanger had broken their predictions again and again. The model for G38 was still on screen. Cassandra pursed her lips in thought. Maybe she should check something...


Trish had made it to medbay easily. Amber's path of destruction meant she could limp the entire way without needing to pass through any secure doors, or any doors at all. She'd even been able to trace most of Amber's journey into the lab maze. Now she was stood at a cross roads, trying to figure out which direction was best. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. From behind her came the roar of... Something. Something howling. She swivelled around to look back the way she'd come. 'What the fuck was that?' Trish thought. It cemented her decision not to double back. So that left, one path to the left and another to the right. Time to roll the dice.

Deciding on right, she started walking, leaning one shoulder against a wall. After about 50 yards, a rhythmic vibration made her stop. Narrowing her eyes she tried to gauge whether or not they were getting stronger. They were. And quickly. Trish felt panic seize her, unsure of what to do. It must be Amber stalking around. No one else could cause this, right? Heavy footfalls came closer and closer. A speedy shabble was the best Trish could do to. Managing to get to the nearest door, she dove in, similar to the way a rodent might leap into a hedge as a predator passed.

Trish braced against a wall. Sterile, white tiles ripped away from the corridor wall, carried by the force of Amber's walk. She slashed a path across the corridor, straight through the building, like a tornado, a force of nature. Yet to Amber, it was just wading through knee high water. Completely uncaring, she marched straight over where Trish had been and kept going, massive feet turning the enclosed space into an atrium.

Rain pittered into the doorway of the room Trish was hidden in. Peeking out from her hiding spot, she felt the cool droplets, watching Amber's massive swaying hips go. She was heading back to the lab where they'd been manufacturing G37. An armful of nurses and scientists, pressed against her tit on one side. On the other, a bald worm of a man. Trish recognised the asshole immediately. The fact that he didn't look scared... That was a very bad sign.

End Notes:

I've mentioned before that I might write a second ending to the story where someone else gets the G38


If you want to influence what happens in that, feel free to vote here:

https://twitter.com/Kokoji03996883/status/1590467487878873088?s=20&t=nwcvTWXAcxblLKOHu8Kkig

Chapter 19: Perfection by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

As usual: brutality warning

Also, I sound like a broken record, but thank you to gtortoise for his feedback and solid gold idea!

This is a second draft. I might come back to fix some English after I have a break for a bit

Far away, from the penitentiary, a pair of men in suits sat, talking.

"No, this isn't right. He should have checked in hours ago."

"Maybe he's just late."

"By three hours?"

"Maybe he had an aneurism."

"I... Yeah, maybe. Still, I have a bad feeling about this."

The other man rolled his eyes and walked around the desk he'd been perched on. "Fine." He picked a red phone up off of it's receiver and cradled it between his shoulder and ear. "Two - Seven - One - Three - Nine." He waited. "Uh-huh.... Yes, patch me through to Episilon."

The other man's eyebrows rose. "Oh wow, banking a lot on my gut."

With one shoulder he shrugged back. "Fuck it. This is too important to not be sure." His attention went back to the phone. "Yes, it's me. We've not had a check in from our friend. I want eyes on that place before 1900."


White text on a black background reflected in Cassandra's bulging eyes. "Oh fuck." She whispered. The mouse wheel scrolled audibly and she punched a few keys, changing values in the model.

Clicking run again she waited pensively. A little bar filled and the new numbers flashed up. This couldn't be right. Leaning back in her chair, she could only say it again. "Oh fuuuuuck."


The rain was letting up now, easing into a slower downpour, the burning sun piercing the black clouds and shining on the decimated prison. Foot prints in the mud that hadn't been entirely washed away, too large and too deep, began to solidify. A trail for a jaguar to hunt.

Amber had been careful prying the roof off of the lab. Making sure to rip free enough so that she could watch the scientists work without the rain hindering any of their work had been a delicate process. She was sat on the broken rooftop of the corridor that she'd smashed to get here, legs dangling into the lab that had birthed her new form, bearing down on the workers. Smith was her foreman, barking orders and making sure the next batch of G37 was made as efficiently and quickly as possible. Amber found that she was beginning to like having a slave. Someone to impart her will without her even raising a finger. She wriggled her toes, smirking down at her little sweat factory.

Her smirk dropped when one of the scientists slipped, the flask he'd been holding squeaking against his glove before it shattered against the ground. Like a server dropping a plate in a restaurant, everyone went silent. First they looked to him. Then they looked up, to her. Amber's expression wasn't explicitly unhappy but the sheer weight of her gaze had the man sweating.

"I'm s-so sorry!" He cried. Her legs kicked playfully, toes close to the ground even while sat 12 foot up. Pale blue eyes moved to Smith. She pointed to the scientist and then curled her finger, beckoning Smith to bring him over.

Smith had been keeping his composure together as much as possible, hoping he wasn't sweating clean through his suit. He ran his dry tongue over drier lips. "Hey!" He shouted, storming over to the man. He gripped a handful of his shirt and pulled him in to hiss, "go over there and fucking grovel." That left the scientist bewildered but when Smith flung him into Amber's direction, his journey was already well under way.

He slowed after the initial stumble, a more tentative paced walk carrying him to stand before her massive form. The scientist kept his eyes low, looking at her feet rather than making eye contact. Feeling like he's walked into the lion's den, he began to talk.

"Please, I'm really, really sorry. I-I didn't mean to drop the flask. I'll make another batch even faster!" He chose to look up then to gauge her response and saw the indifference in her eyes. For some reason that was worse than anger. That cold, uncaring, bored stare frightened him. "I'll do anything! Whatever you want, just please don't hurt me!" He begged, desperation becoming too much. Having this tiny thing beg to her sent a thrill through Amber and a smile tugged at her lips, boredom evaporating. She wanted to see how far he'd debase himself before she decided if he'd earned his worthless life.

"Get on your knees." He did it without a second thought. Her mud covered foot hovered closer to him, big toe flexing up so that it's bottom faced him. A shiver ran through the scientist as he was reminded again just how large she was. The crusted mud on the bottom of her feet had dried for the most part and he could see the ridges of her toes where it had flaked off. Each ridge looked to be an inch thick... Being abducted by her had been traumatic in itself, but on his knees in front of her, foot ready to end him. It was a horrifying.

"Kiss it." This time he hesitated for a half second but, quickly leaned in to peck the head sized toe. He rocked back, resisting the urge to wipe dried mud from his lips.

"Was that it?" Amber asked with fake shock. She wanted to see him squirm. "A tiny, lil' peck?" Her toes wriggled in what would have been a playful way in any other situation. "Aw, look she's upset now! She doesn't think you really meant that kiss and, to be honest," her voice grew dark, "I don't think you did either." The scientist looked from the toes, up to Amber, panic rising. She scrunched and flexed them more violently, mud cracking and falling off. The action made them seem brimming with anger, expanding out of their shell. "She's pretty mean when she's angry." For some reason that one line was ominous enough to start the scientist nervously twitching faster than before. "You better make it up to heeeeeer." He didn't need any further persuasion, rocketing forward on his knees to hug the foot, passionately kissing the big toe. Amber hummed in approval, tingles running up her leg and spine.

"Good boy." She cooed. "Lick too. I want her spotless by the time you're done." He complied, stomach turning with his first lick along the crusted bottom of her toe. Dirt and mud assaulted his pallet but he licked and swallowed and fought to stay alive.

Amber pushed the man down under her sole, massaging his body with the ball of her foot as he pathetically followed her orders. She tweaked her nipple and let out a little gasp of pleasure, kneading the entire massive tit. God, this was making her horny. She hadn't had anyone this pliable in the inmates. Anyone this easy to mould into -

A thumping caught her ear, momentarily distracting Amber from her fun. She tried to ignore it but couldn't. It sounded like... It was getting closer. It was.

Amber hopped up, full weight coming down on the pathetic insect underfoot. He'd turned to jam beneath her weight. The aryan didn't even notice, swivelling around to see Vásquez. Vásquez?! She was almost a blur, tearing through left over ruins of corridors and walls, ripping up the soil and mud and concrete with every step.

A feeling gripped Amber that she hadn't had in a long time. A cold stone in the pit of her stomach. She tried to block the first punch, arms coming up in slow motion, unable to stop the overhand right. Her jaw completely unhinged, dislocating from the force of the hook that rattled her brain and sent her careening through the side of the lab, into an adjacent room. The world wouldn't stop tilting to and fro.


Coughing, Smith waved away clouds of dust. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. One second he was smiling at Amber playing with the scientist, the next the scientist was gone and Amber had flown through the air. He caught a glimpse of something that instantly made his heart seize. Copper skin. Black hair. That fucking tattoo. Vásquez. Fucking Vásquez?! How the fuck was she this big? He felt a flutter run through him, once again having control escape him because of this giant latina. Jones. Jones must have had a part to play in this. There was no other way. "Keep working!" He screamed to the scientists.  Vásquez wasn't as big as Amber, but something was eating away at Smith. They needed more G37. Now. He was not letting Vásquez ruin everything again.

Heading to the closest scientists, he slammed her against one of the machines. "Double the speed. Make as much as you can as fast as you can. Understand?"

The wide eyed woman nodded, weeks of working with Smith meant she knew she shouldn't disobey. "Good. Because mark my words, if Vásquez wins this, we all die." He released her, hurrying away.

"W-wait, where are you going?" She asked after him.

"I need to talk to someone."


Vásquez didn't hesitate, diving after the prone giantess, sprawling onto the larger woman. Decimating more walls, she threw a flurry of punches at any patch of the aryan she could. Amber tortoise shelled up, absorbing the punches with shoulders, biceps and forearms, struggling to right her equilibrium.

The scientists stayed true to Smith's orders, working as well as they could while the two giants destroyed their surroundings, shaking the floor with each exchange. They'd take glances at the insanity unfolding yards away, trying to keep steady, mixing chemicals. Vásquez straddled Amber, muscled, wide caramel hips laid atop alabaster ones. God, she was so heavy. Heavier than she should be. Denser? Amber couldn't stop her mind running wild with questions.

Her veins throbbed purple and slowly her groggy state abated. She clenched her jaw, G37 helping to snap it back into place, fixing her rocked brain. The panic faded. She was still bigger than this bitch. Stronger. Through her guard, Amber shot the furious latina a grin and blew a kiss. Like a cobra striking, she gripped one of Vásquez's wrists. Her strength meant she could still, easily, buck her hips, sending Vásquez off balance. Still blinded by anger, Vásquez launched into another, ill timed attack. Blocking a hook, Amber grunted, pulling her opponent's other arm down, rolling and cleaving clean through into another room. She pinned the latina to the ground under her and leered down. "Not so easy when I'm still bigger, right?"

"Fuck you." Vásquez spat, pulling her head back and headbutting the woman with full force. Amber rocked back and Vásquez gripped a handful of almost bleached blonde hair. She yanked to the side, using a wall as a weapon and sending their battle further away from the lab. Vásquez scrambled on her knees towards Amber and attempted to get on top of her. This time Amber's feet stopped her, pressing into her chest and shoulders. Amber's thighs bulged and for a moment Vásquez was close enough to grab at Amber. The aryan kicked out and Vásquez went flying. Up, off of her knees, off of her feet and flung away.

The 25 foot tall woman went through a corridor and into the mud. Amber stood imposingly, quick to her feet, but didn't go for the attack. Her nose was almost flat, blood, crimson red against her snow skin, poured down her lips and dripped from her chin. A large cut along her temple wept too and even now, her jaw crunched, finally healing. Vásquez paused, only now seeing the ridiculous rate that Amber healed. Her nose reconstructed itself and her temple stitched itself closed. Amber licked her lips, the metallic taste sensing tingles through her twisted mind. She laughed, cobble stones flexing, tilting back her head and really belly laughing. "Oh, oh shit. You should see your face, you dumb fuck. Are you seriously only getting it now? You can't do shit to me." A familiar sensation ran through her. Tightening skin, burning bones. Power. "But guess what?" She planted her hands on her hips, standing massively tall. "The best," her veins glowed again, "is yet to come!"

That tell tale hyena cackle went through Amber's own brand of changes, running up and down the pitch spectrum as she began to swell. "MhhhmmmHMmmMmmm, fuck, I love this feeling." Amber groaned, letting her head roll and her eyes flutter. Her weight was getting to the point where she didn't even have to stomp to crack concrete. Mass alone was enough to do it, which is why right now tiles and cement began to split and break beneath her. Her shoulders widened even more, muscles twitching in delight as she crawled into the 32 and then 33 foot range.

Vásquez got to her feet and even from this distance, knew she'd be tiny next to Amber. She couldn't just let pure rage propel her. The growth subsided and Amber returned her gaze to her foe. "I don't know how you did it, but you came back from the dead, ya grew huge, you came charging over here and you still can't fucking beat me, can you?" She was rubbing salt into the wound. "Look at you. All big and bad and only up to my huge, round, juicy tits." Amber grabbed handfuls of her rack violently, jiggling and mashing them together. Her fire hydrant nipples rigidly begged for attention and soon a moistness began to form along her inner thighs. "Itty, bitty Vásquez." She giggled, playing with the cherry toned diamonds on her chest. "So... F-f-fucking.... Useless." Her hips danced, sharply, involuntarily and an orgasm washed over the insatiable monster. Vásquez was doing her best to keep her thinly caged anger in check. She pushed it down, deep and the red curtain opened a little. The power to construct a full sentence returned.

"Nah, it's you that doesn't get it." Vásquez said. "Doesn't matter how big you get. Even if you were a mile fucking tall, I'd climb into your ear and rip and tear until you were dead." Vásquez meant every word. She'd do anything she had to murder this bitch.

That just elicited a chuckle from Amber. "Really? Alright then." She reached down and grabbed a particularly jagged chunk of concrete. Vásquez knew what was coming. She ran to stop Amber. But it was too late. The aryan thrust the sharp point into her own chest, blood sputtering out, she dragged it along her upper body in a diagonal line. Vásquez tried to get the shard of roof from the giant, trying to wrestle control and force it into her heart. The two of them went into a war of strength and, Amber was shocked to see, Vásquez was holding her own. Gradually she pushed the tip of the bloodied, grey spear towards the already slashed chest. How was she this strong even with the size difference? Either way, it wouldn't last long though.

Amber leaned forwards, arching Vásquez back and using her weight as much as possible, utilising her size advantage to make it more difficult to move the weapon. The latina was almost at a 45 degree angle, trembling but holding steady. Amber wanted to question how but kept it out of her head. She was winning this. In this position Amber's wound dripped, hot, thick blood onto Vásquez, coating her chest and abs. But the waterfall of scarlet slowed, healing flesh closing like a dam to stem the flow.

The weight started to increase and the triangle of concrete inched further and further away from Amber's cleavage. Vásquez's biceps were burning, her chest and back and her entire body desperately trying to push back the tide. Amber throbbed bigger and bigger over her, smug smirk looming larger and larger. 33 foot. 34 foot. 35 foot. Vásquez snapped her hips to one side and let Amber's weight carry them to the ground again. She'd pivoted in such a way that their positions reversed, Vásquez on top of the growing hill. Bearing down on their connected arms and thrusting with all her might she tried to drive the point into that rotten heart. Amber continued to stop her, growing down and out into the rubble.

Seriously, what the fuck was she made out of? Vásquez felt like a block of lead coming down on Amber. Enough. Instead of trying to push her off she closed her fists, sharp edge of the concrete crumbling in her grasp. Amber kicked the latina off. She anticipated the unrelenting barrage of offense and this time, on one knee, she stopped Vásquez, catching her fist. With the aryan at 37 foot tall, and still growing Vásquez couldn't stop her. She couldn't stop perfection. Amber caught the second fist in her gargantuan hand, fingers swallowing more forearm with each second. Even on one knee, Amber was taller. She puffed herself up with confidence and pushed up to stand. 38 foot tall. Vásquez was under the shelf of her tits, looking up at the aryan from between them in a deliciously pathetic way. The aryan radiated an arrogance, doubts and caution being thrown to the wind. What had she been worried about? This tiny, inferior, little cunt?

Amber pushed down on Vásquez, intentionally smothering her face in a breast that was far bigger than her head. She tried to force a nipple into her mouth to add further insult with the act. When she couldn't a little frustrated grunt came out and Amber swung her chest, slapping the tit into the Vásquez. "OhhhHhooo. That felt good." Murmured Amber. She pushed more weight down, bending the support beam of a woman. She was un-fucking-stoppable. "Oopps!" Amber cartoonishly giggled, tipping onto her toes and falling forwards. Both women went crashing into the observation room. The black electric chair was there. They crushed it flat.

It was Amber's turn on top again and it was glorious. 39 feet tall, easily pressing Vásquez's twig arms flat against the floor with her hands. She slammed a tit to her face again, resting the wrecking ball on her, stopping her breathing. The impact pushed Vásquez's head to the floor, breast oozing around her face and scalp to make a seal. The latina sucked in as much mammary as she could and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Amber pulled away with a gasp, a bloody circle on her underboob. She leaned forwards trying to see the barbaric attack. Her shock turned into a jubilant, horniness as the little marks began to heal. "Fuck me, Vásquez! How big do you *want* me?" The premonition came inevitably true, breast healing and growth beginning. Fingers, interlocked with Vásquez's, began to thicken, pushing fingers apart sliding down the back of the smaller hand, making deeper lines in the earth. Vásquez felt like she was dwindling between the monster's legs, increasing moisture building. Amber ground her hips into caramel abs, smearing her oily sex all over the smaller woman.

"How about you try it again and I bite your fucking nipple off." Snarled Vásquez.

A melodic giggle came in response. "You know, if you really wanna eat me so bad -" She shuffled forwards, bringing her knees over Vásquez's arms, crotch creating a trail of slime over her stomach and chest, massive, overgrown ass squishing the teeny tiny tits. That puckered, pink, purple, red slit twitched and belched forth more grool, right onto Vásquez's chin. "You could have just asked." The mountain of a woman grabbed a handful of hair, thrust her pussy forwards and jammed Vásquez into her crotch.

Like a rabid bull, Vásquez went berserk, thrashing under Amber. The aryan, even with the scale disparity, had to work to stay on. Eventually she lifted her ass and crashed down, pussy enveloping Vásquez's entire face, submerging her in Amber's sensitive, leaking folds. The ayran rocked back and forth, grinding and groaning and laughing. This was a game to her. Just like everyone else, Vásquez wasn't a threat. She was a toy. A toy that, relatively, was shrinking smaller and smaller.


Jennifer sprinted through the corridors of the secret wing. She felt like all she'd been doing for the passed hour was run back and forth. Where the fuck was Trish? How could she have gotten so far away while limping?!

The whole prison had lost power a while ago, the colossal fight being fought having done too much damage to everything and finally short circuiting the prison. Jennifer had struggled to keep her pace as the kaiju level bout rocked the world. Catching glimpses of the fight through destroyed sections of the formerly sterile corridors she'd tune in for a few seconds at a time. She couldn't stand and watch though. Even if Trish hated her, she had to keep her safe. Although she had no idea how exactly she was going to do that. She stopped, standing at a metaphorical fork in the road and ran her hands through her hair. Holding her blonde locks back, she breathed heavy, debating where to go. Where would Trish go? Where would she be trying to get to?

Wait, Cassandra was still here too wasn't she? Maybe she could hack into more cameras and find her? Earlier she'd made easy work of the prison cameras, she must have the skills to crack the others even if at the time she didn't try... Right?

It was a bad plan but it was better than no plan at all. Jennifer tapped into the mental floor plan. This way. She took off running again.


Trish, meanwhile, had been sitting in the room she'd taken refuge in. She'd actually seen Vásquez on her initial charge, early on. A surprising relief swelled in her when she saw the humungous woman going to fight Amber. That is, right up until the realisation that a few hours ago they'd been beating the snot out of each other as well. The lesser of two evils was still a massive, angry, evil woman who didn't like her. She'd resigned herself to staying in the room to wait for whatever authorities would come. Sat on a filing cabinet, she'd decided that was safest. It had given G37 and her body some time to partially heal her injuries, and it meant that she could have time to reflect and think about all the events that led to this insane crescendo. Looking back at it now she could see the hints that there was more going on between Jennifer and Vásquez.

What the fuck did she see in that murderer? What redeeming qualities could have actually have?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud clopping of shoes in the destroyed corridor. Whoever this was, they weren't wearing boots or plimsolls. These were dress shoes. Quietly, Trish stalked to the ripped open wall and peered out of the shadows. Her injured leg hadn't fully healed, but she was sure she could tail the asshole that had started this all.

Trish let him pass and then moved out into the corridor, nothing but a non-existent ghost in the distance to Smith.


After her discovery, Cassandra went into damage control. She had to wipe G38 from the records. How it was made, chemical make up, how it had interacted with Vásquez's cells.... She was deleting all of it. Destroying it. G37 was bad enough, G38 being used could be truly disastrous. Files, calculations, even the kit she'd used. Deleted, erased, sterilised.

Yet, even in her frantic whirlwind of activity that heavy, metal ch-chunk of the door being opened made her skin transform into goosebumps. A thousand thoughts raced through her head as she span to the door. The best case scenario was that Jennifer had secretly memorised the door code. The worst case was that her employers were already here.

The truth was somewhere in the middle.

"Hello, Jones." Smith said, standing in the doorway. He had a look in his eye that boarded on insanity. Cassandra stepped between him and her computer, hoping he didn't see the progress bar for the deletion.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, an equal mix of anger and fear tinting her question. Smith didn't answer her, instead lunging at the tiny woman. He wrapped his fingers around her throat, pushing her into the counter. Glassware was swiped from the table top, turning to shards, scattering across the floor. Cassandra's dainty hands attempted to pry off Smith's as he bent her backwards over her workplace. Clawing and scratching, she wasn't strong enough to pry them off.

"I finally find a silver lining in the clouds and what happens?" Smith was being rhetorical. Her must have been or he wouldn't have been squeezing the life out of the woman he was speaking to. "Nurse fucking Jones to the rescue all over again!" She barely gargled in response. "I don't know what you gave the Vásquez, but you're.... Fuuucking.... Done." He grunted, squeezing harder. This was the one cathartic revenge he'd have against the females housed in this prison. A symbol of his anger to all of them, he'd kill this one. Cassandra's blood shot eyes darted left and right. It felt like blood vessels were going off like party poppers in her head.

Thunk.

Smith let go and Cassandra sunk into the gap between his legs, thankful to breathe again. The bald man wiped sweat from his head. He brought his trembling hand up to see his sticky, blood coated fingers. "Huh, maybe I pulled the punch too much." He turned in a daze to see an expanse of red overalls. Torn and worn and stained with dirt and blood. Trish stood tall next to him, dwarfing him by over a head. She was holding a stretch of rebar, ripped from a damaged wall.

"T-Trish?" Smith asked, amazed that of all people, she was the one. He back pedalled into the tiny room, stepping on Cassandra and tripping to the floor. Trish limped forwards, brandishing the metal. "Wait, T-Trish, calm down. I can get you out of here. I c-can make sure you're free and - and you'll never hear from any of us again. I can give you that fair trial!"

That sparked something in the towering inmate. The idea that he would give her a pass, that he could make everything just - poof - disappear, was infuriating. Why could he do that? Why could he hand out free passes? Of course he'd get his own too. He'd wriggle his way out of any consequences his sick experiment had caused. When would he get comeuppance? He fucking wouldn't. He'd get away with everything while people like her were locked away. "Too fucking late." She growled. Bringing the pipe up like a baseball bat she swung with full force. Smith died on impact, wiped from the world in a bloody splatter. He'd become the catharsis, a stress ball to cent on for a 7'9 inmate. His body slumped to the floor.

"Trish?" The voice was frightened. Whirling around, Trish found Jennifer standing in the doorway. She looked... Terrified.

Shame and embarrassment shrouded her and Trish almost let the bloodied rebar slip from her fingers. Her emotions had gotten the better of her and now someone was dead. Cheeks flushing with more warmth than usual, she turned her head down, looking at the length of steel. No matter how righteous that had felt it was wrong.

All of this was because of fucking Jennifer.

"What? This turn you on?" She blurted to the woman filling the doorway.

Jennifer looked even more appalled, even more surprised. "What? N-no!"

"Oh, not enough, right? I should totally skull fuck his corpse or... Or kill her too." She pointed the gore stained weapon to Cassandra. The 5'2 woman cowered away against the desk, making herself look even tinier. Trish felt her stomach tighten at the reaction. "Well that's NOT FUCKING ME!" She bellowed, throwing the length of metal at the wall and destroying a chunk of plaster. Trish thundered towards Jennifer.

The blonde didn't know what to do, but held her hands up. "Trish, wait. Please, please let me explain." She tried to grab her friend but the palm that shoved her away, back into the tiny lab, was so strong.

"Don't touch me." Was all Trish said back, stooping under the doorway and limping away. Jennifer was dumbstruck on the floor. She debated following her but just couldn't muster the mental fortitude to try. Having Trish react like that was too much. She sat on the ground for a solid 10 seconds of silence. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wanted the world to swallow her up. Her bottom lip quivered.

Cassandra unfurled from her crouched position. Her neck was already bruising from the choke. "Hey." She laid a hand on Jennifer' shoulder but there was no response. "Hey!" Shaking her out of her depression, emerald eyes looked to her. "It's not what you think. Trish just saved me. She saved my life, look." the scientist showed off her neck.

"I didn't... I knew she didn't do anything wrong." Jennifer finally said. "I fucked up."

Cassandra went to say something reassuring but didn't know how. The computer behind her pinged, the wipe having been deleted.

"Um... This might not be the right time, but I think we have a problem." Jennifer looked to Cassandra. "So, I didn't run the numbers for if you gave G38 to Vásquez. I... Didn't think you would." She winced.

"What? What's wrong?" Jennifer feared the worst. "Is she going to die?"

"No... Far from it." Jennifer did a double take. "So, throughout our study Vásquez has shown..." She sighed. "Completely inhuman responses to the serum. She's just attuned to it on a level that doesn't make sense. It's like genetically it's built for her. I don't know how or why since that jackass," she nodded to Smith, "wouldn't let me study her."

"What's the problem?" Jennifer asked, tension mounting on her.

"Well, I ran some tests on the data I did have. I think G38 has um... Bound to her. It's laying dormant in her system, potentially in her bone marrow."

"So?"

"W-well, I think it's replicating." Jennifer now raised her eyebrows, but wasn't understanding the full gravity. "Like stem cells. I... Okay, Vásquez will never need a dose of G37 or G38 ever again." Now her face quickly lost all colour. "Her own body is replicating it. And... Honestly, I don't know what that means. Whenever she's injured, or even whenever her body is stressed, it might come alive. The right sequence of hormones, the right bodily functions... Shit, it might even be an emotional response." Cassandra gave a tired, exasperated shrug.

Jennifer swallowed, trying to get some moisture back into the Sahara that was her mouth. "So she's going to be growing forever?"

"No. I don't know. I doubt it. It's not like G37 hanging around in her blood until it's gone. This is more like a triggered event."

Jennifer gave a sigh of relief. Triggered event. Injuries. Emotional responses. "Fuck!" Jennifer was on her feet in a flash. Considering how insanely furious she'd been when she left the holding cells, Vásquez could be 1000 foot tall by now. "I need to see what's going on." She trudged through the lab but stopped at the door. Turning she gave one worried command. "Stay right there."


"Oh, fuck! Right there!" chortled Amber as she ground another orgasm out on Vásquez's face. There was no semblance of the worry that she'd had before. Now she was riding high, 40 foot tall and dominating the last bastion of hope this prison might have had. Vásquez sputtered on the thick, mucus like cum that wouldn't stop squirting all over her. She'd lost count of the orgasm Amber had wrung out on her face. Her skin was greasy, hair shining, matted to her face, covered in the stuff. Drenched. She needed to find a way out. A way to get out without having Amber grow again. It was becoming too hard to breath now. Impossible even. Impossible to plan. "Y'know, I'm so happy you came back to life. It's just so perfect that I get to kill you again." Amber let out a pleasured moan and continued. "Fuck your face. Humiliate you. Fuck, imagine if your little friend could see you now?"

Something broke in Vásquez. She'd tried to hold back that fury like she always did. Like Maria had told her to. Like the penitentiary counsellors had told her to. But, as more and more adrenaline poured into her system, oxygen deprivation meaning her body was struggling. Not only did planning become impossible, so did keeping it in check. Impossible to claw back the red wave of blood lust that had been overflowing her earlier. That last quip did it.

Her struggles had simmered as fatigue set in, but now a new source of motivation brought her attempts back up to full power. And something else edged her beyond even that. She could actually feel her body heating up as jet fuel pumped into her veins, senses growing sharper. If Amber wasn't so preoccupied, she might have seen the golden hue brightening along Vásquez's vascular arms. The latina slapped her hands to Amber's massive rump, eliciting a giddy, "ohoooo! Kinky, Vásquez! C'mon, give me some more!" The pale woman continued to goad her toy, still pleasuring herself on her face. She didn't realise the subtle creaking beneath her.

Vásquez's fingers dug into the behemoth of a porcelain ass. She gripped hard and her arms and chest flexed larger, stirations of muscle bulging and tearing and regrowing. Amber quaked a little, feeling her chair moving now. Feeling the breasts and pectoral swelling. She looked down between her legs to see two blazing balls of gold burning up at her from the sea of wavy black hair. Boulder like biceps expanded around Amber's shins and she felt herself moving upwards. Vásquez was lifting her. Vásquez was fucking lifting her. The forgotten worry bloomed back to life.

Heels ripped through the concrete, legs surging longer and thicker, ass distending out into the ground, hips widening. Vásquez's feet pressed against a corridor wall and her knees bent monentarily, until the force of her growth brought it down and her legs continued their outward expansion.

Amber felt a wave of panic, the fear and doubt from earlier doubling. She jumped up, unsteady with Vásquez pushing her, and stood with her feet either side of the latina's chest. From this higher vantage point she could see more. The network of veins, glowing brightly, contrasting against coppery skin. Vásquez was throbbing bigger, weeding taller, stretching wider. And the look om her face was a mask of insidious malevolence. Amber watched in dismay as Vásquez's lats spilled outwards towards her ankles, woven titanium building. She could see muscles visibly tearing and repairing in front of her. This wasn't G37 at all.

Eyes bursting from their sockets, Amber took a half second to react. She needed to stop this before it began. Lifting her foot high, Amber brought her weight down on Vásquez's head. Or she tried to. The latina's reactions were lightning, hands coming up to catch the car sized foot. Unable to stop the weight completely, her elbows crashed into the concrete, sweaty sole about a hands width away from her nose. Amber pushed harder, tiptoeing on her other foot, full weight on the prone woman.

All it did was force Vásquez's body to struggle more. More stress. More response. Tanned fingers flexed around the pale foot and, spurting erratically, forcing Amber's knee to bent. She became an animal trapped in a snare, furiously tugging her foot free. It took three attempts to tear her foot out of Vásquez's grasp and immediately she tried to stomp over and over. Every desperate attempt was blocked until the woman laid on the floor perfectly timed a roll and Amber's foot crashed to earth, shaking the prison.

A 31 foot tall bundle of muscle moved with far more agility and dexterity than it appeared it should be able to. A well oiled machine, Vásquez curled into a ball, getting her legs under her, and sprung up. Amber turned in time to be greeted with an upper cut which snapped her head back, braid whipping around. She returned fire with a hook that sliced nothing but air. Vásquez was all instinct now. All violence. All murder. The liver blow did major damage, pulverising the organ and turning ribs into confetti.

The aryan faltered, staggering through concrete. She threw a punch that could level a building but Vásquez caught it with her elbow, causing Amber's knuckle to sink in, metacarpal erupting out of the top of her hand, white bone almost matching her skin. She needed distance. She needed to heal. To grow. Her leg flashed in a horizontal blur, a kick into Vásquez's abdomen made a sound like a gun shot. But Vásquez didn't budge. Amber was the one to move. She sent herself backwards, as if she'd just tried to kick down a steel wall.

Vásquez rushed into the space that had made and barge the other woman, a freight train sending her flying back through their path of destruction. The predator stalked closer, movements slow and precise, watching Amber like a weak doe seperates from the herd.

Amber didn't understand it. She didn't understand what was happening. This moron was just going to let this happen? She was going to slow down and give Amber a chance? Hope flooded in against the fear. This was it. This was her chance to turn the tide. She scuttled backwards, pulling herself away, lilac arteries gleaming. The bone in her hand was sucked back in, knuckle emerging back into place. Ribs rebuilt. Then came that rush. That tightening.

It was short lived. Vásquez had appeared to teleport at just the right moment. She punted Amber in the head like a soccer ball, filling the woman's mouth with blood, cracking teeth. The growth never got to start, G37 being repurposed to healing again.

Blue eyes danced wildly, trauma battering her brain. Through the pain and the mental mist, Amber was questioning how this was possible. The fear she was feeling was visceral. The type of fear you have in a nightmare as the impossible became reality and the world begins to end around you. Her heart was racing, sweat cold on her skin as she clutched to consciousness. Rays from the sun, blasting through the clouds, could almost be mistaken for Vásquez's eyes staring at her. The lab. G37. She needed it. Fingers sank into concrete, nails red and raw as she scratched and dragged herself. But Vásquez walked along side her, each foot step bigger and heavier than the last. She grabbed the long, off white braid and pulled on it, bringing Amber forwards the way a bitter owner would drag a dog. "Get up." She said, hauling the still larger woman along. A fist to the back of the cranium sent bursts and flashes of colour through Amber's eyes. She went down bouncing off the floor. Her braid nearly ripped from her head as it was pulled in the opposite direction. "I said get up."

"I know what you're trying to do." Seethed Vásquez. She used the braid to keep Amber's suspended and lent down to bring her face to her ear. "Look how close you are." She pointed to the lab. "So close. You're going to die so, so close to getting mo-" Amber swung as much force as she could into Vásquez's crotch. The latina let out an exhale that rattled, pained. Amber wanted to laugh. Vásquez was like Icarus. Too close to the sun, too arrogant, too much hubris. It would kill her.

The aryan bulldozed into the lab, falling into it and crushing one of the few remaining scientists. She didn't even notice the bloody splotch on her breast. Her heart soared when she saw the bags of G37. Three IV bags brimming with purple. Greedily she stuffed them into her mouth, swallowing them like pills. She'd done it. She'd won.

Vásquez caught up, crushing a fleeing scientist underfoot. Amber had turned, laid on her back with a content, cat that ate the canary grin.

"Too late!" She giggled, flipping Vásquez off with her right hand. She'd already won. So why did Vásquez look so unphased?

Amber was too slow to react as her nemisis grabbed that extended middle finger in one hand. With the other artillery came down, a punch that dazzled the over confident aryan. Vásquez stepped over Amber's body and let herself drop. The 35 foot tall latina was even heavier than before, crushing Amber's hips with the juggernaut weight of ultra dense muscle and bone. Vásquez twisted her hips and palmed Amber's skull, driving it into the concrete, a nail into wood. She'd placed her hand carefully, base of her palm along Amber's cheek, thumb under her eye and fingers going up into her hair. One blue eye could still see her, the other half of her face buried in the ground. Wrenching that right arm straight along Amber's side, by the finger, Vásquez pinned the forearm under her knee.

Now she leaned in after her, like earlier, bringing her mouth to her ear. Breast pushing against breast, breath washing over Amber's face. Vásquez's body was hot. A furnace pressed against her, Amber flailed, the sinking realisation that she couldn't get free settling in. She could feel Vásquez still growing, that heat spreading over more of her body. Skin crawling across skin, every extra ounce of the latina enveloping her more. Vásquez's fingers inching around her scalp, her breasts gradually matching the swollen marble they sat on, red woods flexing girthier around her hips. Amber was hyper ventilating. But it was the words that she said that really sent liquid nitrogen dread coursing through Amber.

"You think I'm fucking stupid?" Poisonous, black tar words, hot like the breath that carried them. Vásquez snapped the middle finger, making Amber howl. "You think that little cunt punch really did anything?" Snap. Another finger. More cries. "I let you get here." Snap. "I'm letting you heal so I can break you again." Snap. "And again." She grabbed the thumb now, breaking it, back towards Amber's wrist with a gruesome sound. "And again. Until I burn that purple shit out of your fucking veins." Amber was in a frenzy, whimpering, crying, trying with every molecule of her body to get free. But Vásquez matched her size and dwarfed her strength. Dizzy with pain, the aryan's single ice blue eye grew unfocused. She saw the shadow of Vásquez's thumb.

Vásquez pushed her thumb into the same eye she'd pierced with the baton. Amber's animal like wail was the only thing that dimmed the red curtain of blood. The smile stretching across her enraged features could freeze the ocean. She used her thumb, sunk into Amber's skull, to turn her head up to face her. "You thought you'd won because you were bigger?" Amber's ruined right hand was released, her head now held by two hands. "I beat the fuck out of you over and over again before all of this." Vásquez bashed the back of Amber's head against the floor.

Once

Twice.

Thrice.

She paused to talk. "It wasn't because I was bigger. It's because I was better." She hissed. "And if you're perfect..." The last spiteful slam was the hardest. Vásquez let go of the limp body and stood over Amber, shuddering passed 40 foot tall. "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MAKE ME?!" She roared, mirroring the motions Amber had made earlier. Unlike the pale woman, she succeeded in stomping Amber's head into the ground.

That marked Amber's first death of the day.

End Notes:

Yes the title is a reference to the prometheus meme.

Show me the biggest bitch in cell block B.

*Shows a picture of 30 plus foot tall Amber*

I said, show me the biggest bitch in cell block b.

*Shows a picture of a 40 foot tall Vasquez*

Perfection.

Chapter 20: Grief by Kokoji
Author's Notes:
Okay, thanks to everyone for their feedback. I think this is the final version of the ending. The scene with Vasquez and Jennifer has been fleshed out for those that want to skip straight there.

It wasn't hard for Jennifer to find the two behemoths battling. All she had to do was run towards the sounds of brutality. When she got to the G37 labs, initially, the afternoon sun was absolutely blinding. Squinting, Jennifer looked for the beastial shapes.  

Through the sun and the wreckage her attention was drawn by an aggressive bark. "Come on. Get up!" A gasp was punched out of Jennifer when she saw them. Vásquez stood over a fallen Amber, arms wide out, to her sides, welcoming the aryan to get up. Frankly, she looked disappointed. But that's not why Jennifer had gasped. No. She'd been amazed by the scale of the woman more than anything else. It felt like she'd strayed from reality into a monster movie. Vásquez was so, so ridiculously, impossibly, mind numbingly big.

Jennifer strolled through the destruction, hypnotised, never taking her eyes off of the muscled back ahead of her. Craning her neck back, eyes wide, she drank the spectical in, ignoring Amber attempting to gather herself up from the deathly beating her body was healing from. This was Jennifer's first time seeing this level of immensity in person. Amber she'd only seen through the CCTV feed and Vásquez... Vásquez had almost doubled in height. She was gargantuan. Building sized - no, she dwarfed even the buildings. The roof of broken corridors around her barely reached her knees now. The roof of the holding cells would be below her bust and Jennifer herself probably wouldn't even reach mid shin. At 6'4, she'd never felt so tiny in her entire life. The only structures that even came close to rivalling her was the 40 foot tall watch towers on the outside perimeter of the penitentiary. Mentally, Jennifer tried to draw the comparison and concluded that their roofs would barley meet her chin. It was as if dismantling Amber had fed her size.

On hands and knees Amber was still unsteady. Luminous veins pumped the healing elixir into her wounds but the devastating damage was taking time. Jennifer could see the aryans eyes as she looked up at the woman stood over her. Anger. Fear. Desolate despair. "Please." Amber wheezed through a decimated jaw. Vásquez wasn't just destroying her on a physical level. She was whittling away her spirit too. Robbing her soul from her body. Maybe that's what was actually feeding size into the latina. Either way, she was loving it, the searing anger now flickering as a much dimmer flame.

A harsh sound erupted from Vásquez. A deep, evil, wicked laugh. "What? What, you want me to stop?" Vásquez's shoulder dipped and she pounded a punch into Amber that even Jennifer felt, the air pressure changing. The woman collapsed back to the floor. "You didn't stop. You didn't stop when you were face fucking me. I had to make you stop." Vásquez said, slapping her chest with a resonating beat. She bent at the waist and pulled the aryan up by the hair. "You didn't stop when you killed Selina, did you?" That sentence was an icicle compared to the previous one, mirthless. The despair in Amber's blue eyes grew and Jennifer found it impossible not to feel some sympathy for the monster.

Vásquez dropped her, circling her body. "Come on. Get up. Fight me. I'm giving you a chance I didn't fucking get and you're too much of a pussy to take it." Amber stayed down, teeth grit, again hoping to waste time and let G37 give her an edge. She struggled theatrically, taking her time to get to her knees and elbows anew. Her eye healed, her skull sealing, she let time stretch. But Vásquez knew.

Jennifer was in awe of what happened next. "Fine. I'll help you up." Vásquez said, behind Amber. She wormed her fingers into her hair and yanked the aryan to her knees. Next, stooping low, with the other hand she firmly grabbed Amber's ass. The aryan jumped alive frantically but Vásquez was already tilting backwards. Her body heaved with muscle, obliques, abs and her back all raising under her skin, glistening in the sun as they writhed and swelled. Amber lifted. Vásquez pulled her up in an arc until her feet left the floor and dangled, her body held horizontally over Vásquez's shoulders, weight across the back of her neck like a barbell. Beastial breaths expanded her core and she came up out of her squat, thighs and back and chest and all of her bulging obscenely under Amber's weight. She growled and finally stood straight, arms extending up and lifting the woman directly over head, thrusting her into the now cloudless sky. She'd lifted a 39 foot tall woman like an olympian weight lifting.

Golden light became incandescent in her arteries, muscles pulling skin taunt as Amber inched higher, pushed by Vásquez's growing frame. The grand feat was putting enough strain on her body to force some minor growth. Jennifer watched with a slackened jaw at the herculean power. At the mass of sculpted, etched, gorgeous muscle and curves holding the aryian aloft. Time unpaused and Amber began to fall. Fall straight down. Down onto Vásquez's knee.

The latina bent the slab of marble around her limb like an old accordion.

The sound that preceeded the blood curdling screams defiled Jennifer's ears. Her wonderment transforming into a nauseated fear. Amber had been splintered, a broken baseball bat around a redwood. Unceremoniously, Vásquez pushed her to the ground. The woman's legs twitched in the mud, G37 burning a fire in her body trying to keep up with the endless onslaught. Fractured vertebrae would take a long time to heal. She was lucky G37 had reinforced the bones or her legs would have been completely useless.

Now Jennifer only sympathy for the woman on the floor, face screwed up tight in pain. This was savage. Barbaric. A pound of flesh was an understatement for the debt she was paying. Jennifer tried not to think about what Trish had said. She tried not to question Vásquez and what complete power would unleash in her. She'd made the right choice hadn't she? A monster to kill a monster...

The torture wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Amber's upper limbs flailed, anger bleeding out of her. The pain made her fight, spitting vile curses, calling Vásquez any word under the sun. She even invoked Selina's name. Vásquez rolled her over with the sole of her foot, pushing her onto her back. "You know, maybe you were onto something. Killing you is kind of getting me worked up." She smirked down to the woman laid out beneath her whose eyes widened. Vásquez used her nails, glancing a line down her chest, across her abs and down into her crotch. Playing with the short hair of for a moment, she grinned. "Lemme teach you how to really face fuck someone to death."

What? Jennifer had missed this part of the exchange earlier and was suitably dumbfounded by it all. What the fuck had happened while she was with Cassandra?

"No! No, keep your dirty fucking cunt away from me!" Amber screeched. Vásquez grinned wider, running fingers up and down her sex, humming in approval. She spread her lips, showing off the dew kissed, moist, pink folds. "I'll tear you apart with my fucking teeth!" Growled the frantic woman from below.

Vásquez kicked her jaw closed, ball of her foot on her chin, pinning her head back. "Aw, Amber." She mimicked the singsong voice that had been used against her earlier. "How big do you want me?" New terror glinted in the blue eyes. The edges of those words were darker than black. A mockery. A reminder that this was all revenge. Vásquez pushed her fingers into her sex and shivered, closing her eyes. As if to drive her point home, something began to happen. Driven by pleasure, changes began. Her brow furrowed and her veins sparkled like bedazzling jewels in the sun. Tiny spurts of random growth sparked like fireworks in the night sky. Vásquez grunted, body twitching with size. Feeling it, she cracked her eyes open a slither, golden flame licking at the caramel hoods. Her skin tightened and tingles ran across synapses. "This is... N-new." She panted, passing 50 foot tall. Even with her head held back and down, Amber was forced to watch, dread mounting ever larger. Toes inched up her chin and onto her lips, the force pushing her head back swelling greater. Jennifer's doubts were like snow under the sun, entranced by the sexual act mixing with growth. Her breathing became shallow as she observed. Vásquez was fucking herself bigger. That prospect left Jennifer far more turned on than she should be. The horizon changed in front of her, that perfect back spreading to cover more of the sky, ebony hair curling further down. Her divine curves flared out, ass bubbling thicker as the legs supporting them followed suit, lengthening too. Amber was slowly losing view of Vásquez's eyes as blimp like breasts rose up above pavement slabs of abdominals.

Both Amber and Jennifer were taken aback by the orgasm that made Vásquez sway. Even from the distance she was at, Jennifer could smell the musky scent she produced. Half lidded eyes rolled. "Fuck. I might get addicted to that." Purred the even more gigantic latina with a smile.

Moving her feet apart she brought her bulk down onto Amber, crushing her fat tits with firm, muscle packed glutes. Hips wider than a billboard smothered Amber's chest, her ribs creaking under the vast weight. Wrapping the braid around her fingers, Vásquez used it as a joystick for Amber. "Lemme rephrase what I said earlier. How big can you handle me?" Amber's heart skipped a beat as Vásquez shifted. She smashed a hand down above her head and moved her body so that she was laying on top of Amber, abs passing over her like a plane above, crotch looming to her face. "Trying to suffocate you would be boring. Blunt force trauma sounds more my style."

"Wait -" Vásquez thrust her hips and Amber's face was drilled in by her soaked pussy.

"Tongue out!" Commanded the giantess. Her order wasn't obeyed but it didn't matter. This was less about sexual gratification and more about concussing Amber until her brain was soup. However, it would be an error to say Vásquez wasn't getting off on this at all. Subtle pulses of growth were testament to that fact.

Her toes dug deeply into the mud, muscles in her sole visible to Jennifer. Her big toe was larger than Jennifer's head. Shit, her foot was probably bigger than a car...

Out of focus the blonde registered Amber trying to stop the vagina blasting her viciously over and over again. She'd been desensitised to the violence and felt a creeping arousal building again. She tried to justify it. Amber had, after all, been subjecting women to similar treatment for hours before this. Jennifer told herself that repeatedly, trying to ward off the shame.

Traveling through the war torn prison had been disturbing for Trish. Old memories stained with blood and pain, everywhere she looked. Right now she just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep for a week. Forget the pain and the death and be an empty husk until it all passed. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that. Thought of Jennifer and betrayal were interrupted as Candice screamed her name. Trish's feet had carried her all the way back to the canteen.

The flood of nation members that sprang forth like an oasis in the desert embraced Trish. For the first time in a long time Trish felt the sisterhood she'd longed for again. Wounds began to mend.

Deeper in the canteen Jessica stood up from her seat. The Niners in the kitchen clamoured to see Trish, elated by another survivor in their truce. The raven haired vixen peered to the pantry she'd trapped Jackson in. No one had found him yet and he'd listened to her pleas for him to camp out in the chaos. She'd been glad that she rescued him when the riot started even if it delayed her helping Trish fight the big, bad wolf. He was the one person she was certain she wanted alive at the end of this. Jessica sighed. It was time to face Trish's wrath for abandoning her.


On the other side of the prison Maria was continuing to rallying the lobos in the library. She'd been trying to keep everyone together after the disastrous beating they'd taken. Her attempts had been scuppered, morale at rock bottom. She knew that in this chaos, with as few numbers as they had, there was only one option. Escape. They wouldn't survive another fight, but they could make it to that long white bus and break out.

That idea wasn't what eventually brought everyone together though. To Maria's chagrin Alvarez's return and word of Vásquez saving her was the only thing that had done it. Maria controlled her urge to drag Andrea through the mud. Over the last few weeks she's been growing increasingly weary of the woman.

The lobos going to her instead of to Maria herself had been a blessing when it had started years ago. Maria was glad to have a lieutenant that could handle the responsibility and keep things going without interrupting the executive decisions. But recently that same trait was... Annoying. Paranoia had reframed Maria's thinking. Vásquez had become a threat to her leadership.

A fake smile placated the lobos and she did what she always did. She used Vásquez. She used her like a tool. She let the morale soar, using her to get the lobos moving to the garage.


Vásquez didn't notice Amber was limp until she'd orgasmed again. Rolling her hips she smeared Amber into the dirt, laughing at repaying her in kind. "Aw, what the fuck?" She said upon noticing Amber was gone again. She'd actually fucked her into oblivion. That kind of impressed her.

Rolling off of the comparatively small inmate, Vásquez sat up and waited. She hadn't had her fill of cruelty yet. She wanted that purple glow to return, even if it only let her kill Amber one more time. The woman needed more punishment. A wolfish grin spread over her face as the purple made itself known. Perfect.

Amber guzzled a breath down, eyes shooting open. Vásquez snorted, "yeah, I know that feeling." Amber's shocked face turned to the source of the voice and memories returned with the horror that ferried them back.

"Pl-please, wait!" She begged. Shockingly, begging seemed to work. Vásquez didn't move, instead watching her with curiosity. This time was different. The purple had dimmed.

"Yeah, let's wait this time." She replied. Bewildered, Amber felt that rush. The growth. The agony of healing. The latter she could handle, but she questioned Vásquez allowing the former. She didn't look perturbed or worried. Then the short rush of growth stuttered to a stop and Amber felt cold. Cold and small. Vásquez scoffed. "About time." Amber felt empty. The G37 in her blood had all been used up...

Vásquez had delivered on her promise, burning every drop out of her and leaving her like this. Standing, Vásquez dusted her ass off.  "What are you waiting for?" She asked, implying Amber should do the same. With trepidation, she did. She was just about eye level with the nipples on Vásquez's gravity defying breasts.

The smirk glowering down at her crawled under her skin. Frustration, anger and anxiety built up, the hopelessness of the situation creating a potent concoction of emotions. Everything Amber had believed had been reversed and ruined and made unrecognisable by this bitch. She'd always believed she was better. Perfect. More than anyone else. Even before the G37 trial, Vásquez had been on a crusade to prove it all wrong. When she'd grown first it had driven Amber to scheming. She couldn't allow it to stand. She was perfect. She should have been first. So she fixed it. She overthrew the system. Amber's rampage, her growth, her stomping this woman into the ground had finally all been saccharine sweet validation.

She'd won. She'd proven her beliefs right. Everything was right. Then, mere moments away from gaining even more power, it was all pulled out from under her in the eleventh hour. Chipped away piece by piece by her nemesis. Tears stung her eyes as she mentally snapped, fear giving way to grief. Screaming, wailing, screeching, she ran at Vásquez, frenzied fists flying in attack.

It sounded like someone was beating a drum. It felt like punching a wall. But she didn't stop. Amber couldn't. Stopping meant death.

The larger woman made no move to stop her, instead breathing in and flexing into an unmovable, undentable sheet of diamond. Amber varied her punches, going to the stomach, sides, chest and face in a whirlwind. But each blow bounced off of Vásquez, bullets against titanium. Amber's hands hurt. Her wrists and shoulders too. One janky punch sent tremors up her arm another cracked a knuckle. When she began to slow, a hand shot out and grasped Amber by the throat. The aryan continued fighting. The iron on her throat squeezed and she lifted from the floor, arms suddenly too short to reach her target. Grabbing at Vásquez's wrist she started kicking at the unblemished, unscathed, chiseled, bronzed body. It was futile. Through her tears she could still see the smirk.

"God, this is just sad." Vásquez laughed. "Can't handle a better woman showing you your fucking place, can you?" The twist of the knife. Amber knew this was the end. Acceptance was bitter. "Game over, jue puta. You've run out of lives."

The latina swung her like she was made of papermache. Slamming her to the ground, Vásquez took her hands and pinned them down in her single, left fist. She planted a knee on her chest. Lingering for a moment, Vásquez stared at Amber, vulnerable and scared. This was what it was all for. Revenge. Justice. Why did it feel so empty? The laughter was gone and the grim expression on the latina's face was one of determination. The first punch turned her face into a bloody crater. The second was worse. By the fourth Amber was already gone. But Vásquez didn't stop. Not when blood splattered her face. Not when her fist dully ached. She wouldn't stop until the last of the poisonous anger was fully bled out. She hoped it would take the loss with it. The pain and sorrow and loss. But revenge never did erase any of that. She wasn't enjoying this anymore. Deep down that ache would remain. Roots in her soul that couldn't be torn free. Accepting that kept the anger going. So she kept punching.


Jennifer could hardly move. Each punch was an earthquake caused by a falling star. Vásquez's face was a mask of anger, muscles in her cheek twitching, eyes unfocused. Her punches only seemed to speed up, the rhythm blasting the ground faster and faster.

"Vásquez!" Screamed Jennifer. She'd failed to pull her from her stupor in the holding cells but she wouldn't this time. Picking her way over the destruction she kept shrieking. The giant continued, lips a line, rage diffusing into the air like steam off of her body. The closer Jennifer got to the source of the quaking, the harder it was to walk steadily. She needed to get her attention somehow. She needed to reclaim her from this pit of rage. As she drew closer, a lake of blood spread around the aryan. When Jennifer reached it, friction disappeared and, coupled with the shaking ground, she couldn't stop herself falling into the waters, falling into Vásquez's vision. She sputtered and slid, the accident itself gaining the giantess' attention.

The gorey scene drew to a close. Vásquez snapped from the abyss and she looked at the dot squirming in red at the edge of her peripheral vision. There was a pregnant pause, her brain processing what she was seeing. That was a person. The tiny, wriggling thing was a person. A familiar one at that. Darkness clouding Vásquez's mind brightened and recognition set in. Earlier she hadn't really seen Jennifer. Consumed by hate and revenge, seeing the blonde hadn't fully registered. But her mission was complete now, promise fulfilled and, for the first time in a long while, she could let something besides anger in. Confusion and wonderment brightened the void, vividly colourful emotions returning and adding new splashes of life to the black and white and red she'd been imprisoned in. Her fist, held up in the air, dripping, gradually lowered. "Blondie?" She breathed, amazed by how miniscule she was. Her tunnel vision had stopped her from realising just how massive she was and now her eyes shone with fascination. She blinked a few times and then brought her face down for a closer inspection, gusts of hot breath whipping Jennifer's short hair up, encrusting her, drying the blood and mud. "You're so... Small." She whispered, amazed. Jennifer caught herself mid fall, able to get to her feet. Looking up at Vásquez, at the face that was bus sized, being seen by such a large creature, was nerve wracking. She could see every splatter of gold in the honey coloured eyes looming over her. A strand of hair like a length of rope swished down. But Jennifer couldn't concentrate on that. This was the moment of truth. The moment where she'd get to see if Vásquez was still in there or if complete power had corrupted the small semblance of good that she'd seen in her. Had she really made a mistake giving the G38 to her?

That colossal, bloodied hand moved quickly towards Jennifer, making her flinch, almost capsizing into the blood again. Vásquez chuckled, "chill, blondie." Her index finger extended and it's unstained, soft tip gently moved forwards to carress the tiny woman's cheek. Immense warmth ran along Jennifer's face, so softly that she couldn't believe this was the same woman that had just beat Amber into a paste. Her heart rate slowed, shoulders unknoting. Emralds sparkled back up at Vásquez, finally letting the details soak in, knowing she'd made the right decision. This was the monster that had existed before, just blown up to an immense size. That spark of loyalty and shred of good was still there too. Jennifer cupped the massive finger to her face, trying not to let the relief come out as tears. Each woman marvelled at the other.

"You're huge." Jennifer cut the silence with quiet words.

"What?" Rumbled the giantess, tilting her head closer and pulling her finger away.

The blonde had to clear her raw throat and try again, shouting the words. The small exhale of a laugh it caused unbalanced Jennifer. Vásquez put her hand next to the woman, comparing her stature against her new size. "You're not wrong, blondie." Vásquez grinned. "I have no idea how this all happened but I ain't complaining."

Jennifer felt a shiver run through her. Of course she hadn't realised what happened. She'd gone from dead, to mind numbing pain, to murder mode. The giantess hadn't had time to question anything. "I did it." She confessed, cheeks warming. The latina didn't hear the bashful confession the first time but leaned in planting her hand nearby. The blonde felt her insides curling into a ball. An embarrassment grew. "I did it!" She shouted. "I got a new version of G37 from Cass - from nurse Jones! It brought you back and you... I... It -"

A laugh boomed, cutting Jennifer's words off. "Why you so worried?" Vasquez asked, not dwelling on the blush or the stammering. She assumed Jennifer was worried she'd be angry, just as she'd been in the gym weeks ago. Just as everyone usually assumed. "You saved my life. You made me -" dismounting her victim, Vásquez stood up. Jennifer felt her heart rate rise again, an animal reaction to something so big being so close. Directly in front of Jennifer, Vásquez disappeared upwards like a skyscraper. On either side of Jennifer were two truck sized feet. Above, she could scarcely see Vásquez's chin, her crotch actually making up most of the view. Vásquez had to bend forwards to see the blonde again. She leaned over and stole the blue from the sky. "- You made me fucking huge, blondie." She smirked. The dot on the floor wriggled, even more embarrassed by the overwhelming amount of attention directed at her.

Thankfully for Jennifer, Vásquez hadn't understood her embarrassment. The 6'4 woman felt a lump in her throat as she thought back to Trish's reaction after seeing what she'd done with the G38. She wanted to lay her feelingsb are to the giant and say why she'd given her the shot. Why she couldn't handle her dying and why she'd risked their one shot at salvation at a slither of hope. But it wasn't the time. Jennifer couldn't handle another interaction like the one she'd had with Trish and was too worried things would go sideways. As if in response to her worries Vásquez squated down, her legs expanding under her weight, bringing her closer to Jennifer's level. The blonde still wasn't able to take this all in. The magnitude of the woman was too much for her brain to handle all at once. But that same index finger extended out and carefully ruffled blonde hair from above. On some level Jennifer felt like Vásquez knew exactly why she'd given her the G38.

"Why am I not surprised you had something to do with me getting huge?" She scoffed. "Eating me out might be a hazard to your health now though. Wanna give it a try?" There was a sly look in her eyes then. Behind the joke the possibilities of her size were really dawning on her. What prison could keep her contained now? None. No one could. The lobos would be absolutely unstoppable with her at this size. They could go back home. They could take over the city. Maybe even the country. Pride welled up in Vásquez.

A loud drone in the distance caught her ears, eyes darting up and grin dropping. The monolith straightened up and Jennifer stumbled backwards. "Stay here." She said. One truck sized foot left the ground and swung high up over the blonde. It crashed down over 100 yards away. The other followed.

As if kismet was at play, just as she thought about the lobos, a white bus full of lobos pulled out of the garage and into the mud. Vásquez squinted at the white block that contrasted against the orange dust of the area. A frown played on the giant's face as the bus turned towards Jennifer and herself. She couldn't tell who the passengers were. Guards? Inmates? Aryans? There were so few people that it couldn't be lobos. Which meant their intentions probably weren't good. She readied herself to inflict some more violence. It stopped and she got down on one knee, preparing to rip the roof off of the vehicle. To her surprise, the doors opened and lobos began streaming out, joyful expressions on their faces. They chattered all at once, making it hard to understand any one person. They all stared up at the woman ten times their size, the champion of their clan.

Maria stepped out last, scowling. Her voice was audible above everyone else's. "What the fuck, Andrea?" She asked. The group fell silent, the atmosphere becoming chilly.

"Maria?" Her smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Look!" She waved her arms. "Look at us! This is all that's fucking left!" All the lobos had been cut down to a few dozen. A fraction of the gang remained. Vásquez remembered the bodies in the holding cells. Maria continued, crafting each sentence carefully, picking words the way an artist picks colours to paint onto a canvas. Years of manipulation meant she could hone this slurry of words flawlessly, moulding Vásquez's emotions. "This is your fucking fault! You. Left. Us. You left us to go fight that fucking nation bitch and we got fucking slaughtered."

A 55 foot tall Vásquez looked lost. Her mouse of a leader was berating her, chewing her out and screaming at her. The pride earlier was displaced. Everything she said was true. When Jennifer thought Maria was about to become a smear in the dirt she was amazed to hear a meek reply from above." I thought I'd keep Trish and Je-"

"You thought WHAT?!" Maria cut her off, continuing, knowing her manipulation was effective. "What?! You thought you'd go find out about your blonde cunt and leave us high and dry?! Fuck Karla, fuck -" she tried to conjure up another name of a fallen member but couldn't. " - fuck anyone else! Fuck 'em, right? They can fucking die!" The whole gang was stunned into silence. "Their blood is on your hands." Maria was shaking with rage as she pointed up at Vásquez. "Together. TOGETHER we're strong. You.... You ain't one of us. Not anymore! You left us and now we're leaving you!" Alvarez pushed passed another gang member and opened her mouth to defend Vásquez. A back handed slap cracked across her face. "EVERYONE! BACK ON THE FUCKING BUS. WE'RE. GOING. HOME." Bellowed the matriarch, stomping up the steps into the bus.

No one moved, the lobos sharing concerned looks with one another. Vásquez chewed her lip and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Listen to Maria. Back on the bus."

"But, Vásquez we don't -"

"Back on the bus." Her voice echoed despite the low volume she'd said it with. "Maria is right." There was still an air of disbelief in the lobos, all standing around, unsure of what to do. "Now. I can't leave but you can. Before someone comes to lock you all back up again. I'll be fine."
Eventually, one person listened. The exodus began and the lobos obeyed their leader. All but one.

Alvarez was sat in the dirt, shaking her head. "Fuck that. I ain't going." She shouted to the world. Vásquez used a finger to nudge her.

"You have to. Maria ordered it. Please."

Alvarez shook her head harder, refusing to look up at Vásquez or the bus. "She's wrong." Was all she said. Maria didn't wait. She'd heard that and she didn't need someone that doubted her. Tires squealed and span and the bus moved, turning to move around Vásquez's knee, it speed off. They smashed straight through the three gates and peeled away leaving plumes of dust behind.

The giant watched them leave and then shifted to sit on her ass too. Deafted by words, shoulders slumped, she looked at her blood coated hands. Jennifer jogged over, the danger having passed. The expression on that giant face was all she needed to see.

Launching into action she tried to get the truth through to the person that had saved countless lives. "Hey! Vásquez! Hey! Don't listen to her, she's fucking crazy!" She shouted up at the impassive woman. "None of this was your fault. None of what happened can be blamed on you." There was no response. "Come on, you can't really believe that, can you?!" Alvarez joined in and a chorus of support began.

Their efforts were dashed when Vásquez spoke in a hollow voice. "I think... I think I need to be alone for a bit..."

None of them noticed the black dots on the horizon. The fleet of helicopters closing in on the prison.

"183 casualties." One suited man said to the other.

"And our friend is among them."

"Yep."

"Was it the aneurism that got him?"

"If it was, it was one hell of an aneurism."

"Fuck me, how did he mess this up so badly?"

"I'm already working on PR. We're going to blame it on a freak gas leak."

"Right. Keep pushing that narrative." The stoic man licked his lips. "What about the assets?"

"Four of six recovered. Two dead."

"How are we dealing with the big one?"

"She's been pretty obedient, surprisingly. We're sorting transport for her now."

"Good. Keep her and Jones together. I've got some questions for her when they arrive." The man up-ended a tumbler to his lips and let out a laboured breath. "Send word to everyone. I think it's time to bring all the test subjects together."

End Notes:

So, it's finally finished. Thank you to everyone that read through a story I never thought I'd write! And an even bigger thank you to anyone that reviewed, voted or messaged me. You've all kept my motivation high :) 

Oh and you read that ending right. There might be a sequel in the works ;)

Alternate ending B by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Finally got around to writing beeeg Jen. Hope it loves up to your expectations! This picks up right after chapter 17

"It's revenge." Jennifer said, pushing the tip of the needle into her thigh. She barely noticed the sharp sting of that she was usually so afraid of. Her emotions were too potent, boiling and bubbling under the surface. She pushed the plunger down and felt a cold rush, quickly dissipating as her heart thundered against her breastbone.

Vásquez had told her not to try to be something she wasn't. Not to try to be a fighter. But sometimes you'd be surprised at what you can do when push comes to shove. When someone takes away what little you have left.

Standing, Jennifer felt her head spin, foreign chemicals whirling around her body. She fell backwards out of the hole that housed Vasquez, body beginning to tighten. Trish caught her, almost falling together with Jennifer due to her injuries and the blonde's weight. "Jen, what was that?" She asked, a genuine worry creeping into her voice.

"G38." The croaked answer didn't inspire any additional confidence. Especially when the 6'4 woman fully seized up, muscles flexing. Trish could feel chords and curves of fibers curling with the ridiculous force coursing through them. Jennifer's usually soft features were squeezed into a hard, twisted pain. Eyes screwed shut and teeth barred, she breathed short, rapid breaths.

Trish cradelled the woman. "Wha-what's happening? Where did you even get this shit, Jen?" It was obvious she couldn't respond though.

Torturous pain turned Jennifer's thoughts into scattered scraps. Despite her flexed body, it was as if she were laid on a medieval rack, her entire body being stretched, molecule by molecule, pulled apart. But... As they were being pulled there was this odd sensation. The feel of new, extra size and flesh and cells filling the gap that was being created. Through the pain she was acutely aware of it. Of the growth. Alone, it would have been amazing. With all the pain and grief it was a drop of serotonin lost in a flood.

Reclining into Trish's arms, Jennifer could feel them shifting around her. The hands that had been clasped together were forced apart by the mass filling them. By more of Jennifer, more of her expanding ribs and obliques and pecs and tits. The blonde let out a pained, moan while Trish looked down in confusion. Her crown of golden hair pushed up into the 7'9 woman's cleavage. She was growing bigger so quickly that Trish fell back, pushed off of her already unsteady feet. Rapidly, the weight pinning her down began to grow, a wave of Jennifer pushed her under the surface.

"Jen?!" Her voice had a tremor of worry in it as she transitioned from helping Jennifer to attempting to shove the blonde off. The response she got was another moan and the shearing of fabric ripping. As she was getting taller she was surging out, the muscles Jennifer had worked so hard for over weeks were growing in leaps and bounds, being fed power beyond her wildest dreams. Curves joined them too, an hourglass figure blossoming wider with every moment. Red overalls cinched tighter, crawling up her limbs, rising like the Mercury in a thermometer that had been placed in an oven. Her zipper snapped open, metallic teeth ripping free from fabric before they had a chance to open. The cuffs of her sleeves ruptured, forearm and bicep spilling free, rotund, bloated shapes of molten steel. Veins of gold snaked along her cream coloured skin, the drug pumping up and down her body. Jennifer's ass was at Trish's shins initially but, in a blink, rose over her knees. Plush, ample flesh expanded around them, hips widening and anchoring Trish's legs to the floor, any possibility of leverage being smothered away.

"Jen! " Now the fear was all too prominent. "Jen, you're crushing me!" Trish couldn't budge the growing woman laid on top of her. She pushed and pulled and scraped but with every second she was being engulfed more, dragged under the ocean. Although Jennifer was in the crater from the knees down, her hair was suddenly thrust into Trish's face, muffling her calls for her to move.

The blonde was fighting against the ache of bones lengthening and sinew thickening. Clothing ripped, shredding around the bulk that was forming in faster and faster spurts. She knew she had to move. She could feel Trish beneath her, wriggling and squirming. It was intoxicating to have so much power over someone. So much size that they could be completely smothered beneath you while you just existed on top of them. But she couldn't savour the feeling. It was Trish stuck under her.

Jennifer felt paralysed. Electrified nerves wracked her mentally and physically, muscles mutinying against her. Was this it? Was this all she could do? Writhe in pain while her body changed? Was this what Vásquez had warned her against? Not even being able to handle the one thing that could save everyone. Having the strongest weapon and being too pathetic to use it... Jennifer growled, battling deaf synapses to listen.

Her muscled back eclipsed Trish's view just as bunches of abdominal iron flexed and the blonde forced herself to sit up, to rise against the pain. Trish almost screamed in relief, the claustrophobia lifting with the massive back that was pulling away from her. Her legs were still compressed under the woman but that didn't last long as she tilted, pain, like gravity, tugged her back to the ground. Her weight shook the floor, right shoulder cracking tiles and uprooting blood soaked grout. Trish yanked her one foot free and moved backwards, away, out of the expanding woman's path of growth.

Standing behind her, wide eyes watched her skin crawl and ripple. Trish knew from first hand experience that this must be painful beyond measure. Even just watching muscles dancing under her skin made her stomach turn. She wondered how big Jennifer was by now. 20 foot tall? More? It was hard to gauge while the woman was grounded, struggling to move.

A mallet like elbow rose and then fell, propping Jennifer up, creaking as she shifted. The knots in her back, the ones that Trish had been watching, engorged and flexed as she turned and pushed herself onto all fours. Even like this, hunched over on the floor, her eyes were level with Trish's and the size difference really set in for the 7'9 woman. Whatever this G38 stuff was, she was catching up to Amber. Fast.

But it wasn't enough for Jennifer. She didn't want to equal Amber. Thinking of Vasquez and her warning had unearthed more memories. The image of Vásquez on the floor, yards away, haunted Jennifer. She thought back to the triple dose in that chair. To the way Vásquez had handled it. The fact that she hadn't given in to the pain and the anger but harnessed it. Let it fuel her. She needed to be like that. She wanted revenge and she'd have to be like that to get it.

"Mmmm-mmmooooore." Came a rumble from the blonde. Trish's brow knitted together in worry hearing the hunger in the word. "I nn-neeed more." Grunted the blonde, digging her fingers into the ground. They rooted deeper all by themselves, her body listening to the command. The growth became more stochastic, bursts of expansion like firecrackers going off all over her body. Unevenly, the growth raced through her. Delts throbbed. Hamstrings too. Her feet swelled. Ribs expanded too large for her torso, the rest of her trunk taking a moment to catch up. Her neck elongated. Jaw creaking larger before her head ballooned a second later. It was almost gruesome. Horrific. But Jennifer was enjoying it now. She felt like this was a metamorphosis. Shedding her old, weak self. Transcending it. Becoming a new being. The laugh that wobbled out of her made Trish's hair stand on end. "Ah... Oh... Oh, FffffF-fuck! Yesss.... I." Her breasts inflated, gurgling towards the ground as her back arched. "I need more."

An anxiety hung on Trish as the shape ahead of her poured out in all directions. Jennifer was filling up more and more of the holding cells, encroaching on the space Trish occupied. She needed to move or be crushed again. Shambling quickly away, she doubted the size drunk woman would hear her pleas this time. Trish went towards the cells, already certain that Jennifer had surpassed Amber's size. When they'd found the aryan she'd been sat in the hall, dwarfing the rubble. Those debris looked much smaller with this blonde hunched over them. And she didn't seem to want to stop.

A 41 foot tall Jennifer was panting now, the cocktail of hormonal pleasure in her blood lessening the pain somewhat. She didn't want this to end. She wanted - no, needed more. She forced one foot down and rose to one knee. Trish felt her stomach do a flip. Through the remaining gangway, hanging over the cell, she could see Jennifer rise up. Even on one knee, her head smashed the ceiling. Cracks radiated out around the impact, not phasing the growing blonde despite rocking the walls. A sudden, jolting wave of growth made her grunt and sent her round shoulders rocketing up into the ceiling too. The building quaked, it's foundations already damaged by Amber's rampage. Jennifer's head was pushed down so her chin hit her chest, pendulous breast spilling out over the one bent knee.

Was she... Smiling? It was hard to tell with the shadows and hair around her face, but Trish was feeling an increasing worry. Jennifer was acting insane, starved for size, greedy for it and somehow her body was responding. But she didn't understand the motivation for this greed.

More, thought Jennifer. This wasn't enough. She didn't want to fight Amber. She wanted to crush her. Make her feel tiny. Make her feel fucking hopeless. A gutteral growl started low in the hunched over woman and the building vibrated. Something big was coming. Massive. Trish watched fearfully, holding the bars and praying the cell wouldn't collapse around her. Jennifer's breast oozed around her thickening thigh. The knee rose into her chest like a spear while her whole body groaned larger. Dust was coming down from the concrete overhead, the safety glass in the windows shattering and falling to pieces. More and more of Jennifer's broad back pressed against the roof. Rays of sun began to invade, spilling in through widening cracks as the rain outside slowed.

The floor around the giant was breaking, her feet and her legs tearing up the ground and the concrete below. Crouched, Jennifer looked monumental, growing outwards instead of up, continuing to flood the hall with more and more flesh. She reached out and closed a hand around something suddenly. An awareness that hadn't been there before appeared and her eyes flickered around, head turning as much as she could in the confined space, looking for something. Trish took a moment to realised it must have been her. Jennifer was looking for her making sure she was safe. A pwang of guilt for having doubts about Jennifer's concerns for her safety ran through Trish. She reached her arms through the bars, waving.

A pair of emeralds the size of heads snapped to lock onto the two arms. Jennifer smirked... Or smiled. It was still difficult to tell. Trish tried to decode it, reluctant to take it at face value this time. In reality Jennifer was relieved. Knowing where Trish was meant she could finally muscle her way out of the building while keeping her safe. So the 63 foot tall, still growing woman, stood.

Creaking, concrete crumbled, cascading down as Jennifer puffed bigger and bigger, legs pushing her upwards. Cracks yawned wider, golden light seeping and then pouring into the holding cells. The roof above her gave, metal frame bending and snapping, debris coming down as she climbed. It rolled down the contours of her back and off of her as a 72 foot tall woman shrugged off the structure and  towered over the landscape. She looked amazing, stood there basking in the sun. To Trish her head literally looked like they were in the clouds.

Jennifer looked down again, making sure Trish was safe. Seeing she was, she turned her attention back to her hand. Unfurling her first, she revealed Vásquez laid there. Tiny. She looked so tiny and vulnerable and battered. The exact way she'd never wanted to be. Grief and anger mingled into an oily darkness.

The blonde felt eyes on her and turned to look over the buildings. A petrified aryan was sat on the rooftop of one of the labs, frozen. Jennifer couldn't make out what she was shouting down into the lab, but she didn't care.

Gently, she placed Vásquez on the ground near her feet. She'd make sure she had a proper burial later. "Stay here, Trish. I'll be back soon." She said to her friend. Right now it was time to go and punish Amber.


Amber was smugly watching the scientists work. Like drones busy to make more nectar for the Queen. More ambrosia. To make her even better. Magnify her perfection. Fuel her into an unstoppable juggernaut.

Something like a grunt caught her attention, stopping the idle kicking of her feet. A sound, someone crushing a handful of chips in their fist but dialled up by a thousand, made her turn towards the source.

Confusion was the only thing she could feel as the holding cells inflated, curving outwards like a bouncy castle filling with air. Shock turned into awe as the beige concrete fell away to reveal pearly skin and... Jennifer rose from the building. And rose. And rose. She was... Absolutely gargantuan. A landmark more than a person.

A cold sword plunged into Amber's stomach as giant, twinkling balls of jade looked right as her. "Hurry up!" she screamed, incensed, hopping off of the roof. The scientists, who even at ground level could see the top half of Jennifer through the gap in the roof, stopped working, jaws hanging open. Smith was ashen, colourless skin making him look like a wax dummy. Amber felt goosebumps erupt on her skin. She didn't know what to do. None of them did. She couldn't comprehend being able to fight against something that massive. That huge and still growing, she realised.


Jennifer initially went to step over the mid thigh wall of the holding cells but stopped. She gave a little exhale of a laugh and then, in one mighty step, went clean through the wall, through a pair of corridors and finished her stride in a third corridor.

Her second step was even more destructive, huge foot driving through the buildings like a plough through soil. In two steps she was more than halfway into her journey to Amber and the aryan's mind was spiralling into a desperate jumbled mess. This colossal shape was filling the fucking sky.

Amber's braid swung as she looked left and right, trying to find something, anything to hurt herself with. There was no way to fight someone so much larger. She'd proved that herself against Vásquez, Trish and every other bug she'd come across. The scientists were too slow. She'd need something big. Something that could get her growing faster than ever. In desperation she looked to one of the expensive pieces of lab equipment. Electrocution. That would fucking work. Lunging at a machine she couldn't name, Amber crushed one of the technicians in the way. Stepping on the cable, she hurled the machine across the room and grabbed the black cable that was left behind. With trepidation she looked at the tangle of wires.

A shadow engulfed her and all hesitation went out of the window. Amber pressed the cable to her meat grinder abs, head rearing back as thousands of volts ran through her. Jennifer, who couldn't see over the mass of the aryan's back, didn't understand what was happening. "Come here." Jennifer grumbled, eager to get revenge, grabbing the woman around the torso with two hands. As her skin grew closer she could almost feel a crackle of static, but by then it was too late. Fingers latched onto Amber, an electric fire burning through them both.

The larger woman arched, a familiar sensation blooming again as her body rocketed bigger. Her fists closed, a metaphorical car compactor around Amber, compressing her almost flat. Involuntarily, due to the electricity, Jennifer was using all of her might on Amber, crushing her. Blue eyes roll back in the smaller woman's head. Electricution was a white sear that made her taste smoke in her brain, but the force coming down on her, turning bones to dust and organs into mulch was an entirely different pain. Two assaults on her senses at once. Two hells at the same time.

The catastrophic damage being done to Amber caused a side effect. The onslaught killed any chance of growth for her, G37 rapidly being used up just to stop her from frying to a crisp and having her crushed insides shut down. In fact, her large form was being compacted like a lump of coal under ground, smushed smaller, all while her opponent guzzled down the size meant for her. Oaks wrapped around her, swelling girthier and stronger, pulling the aryan from the ground as Jennifer's body climbed skyward.

Groaning, the giantess actually tried to drop the tiny psycho, to part from the pain. She found she couldn't, muscles uncontrollably firing off. 77 foot ballooned to 85. Then 92. Then, just as Jennifer crested triple digits, the black cable clutched in Amber's hands went taunt and snapped away. Finally, the endless assault of pain stopped.

A gasp. An exhale. Her entire body exhaled in the wake of the trauma and clarity gradually returned to Jennifer's mind. After the blinding ache, she blinked, clearing her vision. Looking down at the woman crushed like a soda can in her fists. It took her a moment to take stock.

"Oh my G- ew!" She yelped dropping the mangled woman. The twisted, broken body looked gross to her. Standing straight she couldn't help the vertigo making her sway. She was so much bigger. "Fuck. Look what you've done!" Boomed the giant angrily. Deep down a part of her wanted to indulge into her fantasy for more size but this was a shock to the system. Everything was tiny. Jennifer looked to the few scientists remaining in the shell of the building, cowering. They barely reached her ankles. Okay, maybe that was a little thrilling in and of itself. However, a twinge of disappointment came then as she squinted, scanning the miniscule faces. Smith wasn't there anymore. He and a few others had probably fled in the chaos. She couldn't dwell on it though, Amber was stirring between her feet, so very far below.

Her body was healing, trying to mend the damage. But it was slower than before, the purple glow dim like a dying bulb. She peered up at the angry green eyes staring from the heavens, a broken arm futily trying to drag her away.

Jennifer grimaced at the pathetic creature between her feet. She was nothing. A psychotic, power hungry bitch that paled in comparison to the women she'd robbed from the world. "You're fucking disgusting." She spewed down at her. Truly she was now inside and out. Jennifer felt a poetic karma spring to mind and she smirked at the woman. "Bye, bitch." She wriggled her fingers in a wave and lifted her foot high, mirroring the cruel tactic that had been used against Vasquez.

"No - no please." whimpered the worthless smudge on cell block B, terror shimmering in her icy eyes. The soft sole came down with enough force to level a building. The entire prison - both cell blocks - rattled. The floor exploded into shrapnel, the roof of the lab collapsed, crushing the scientists, burying the G37 factory. Yet Jennifer lifted her foot and stomped again. She hoped Amber was alive to feel this. And the third stomp. And the fourth. She stopped there though, vaguely registering the stain that had replaced the metaphorical stain of a woman that had been there. Jennifer lifted her foot and frowned at her sole. Using the edge of a broken wall she wiped it off. Amber didn't even deserve to be a blotch on her feet.

The violence had been cathartic. She wasn't done just yet though. Smith first, then she was done. He needed to pay too. No matter where that rodent hid, at this size she'd find him. Then she'd change her profession from art thief to exterminator.

End Notes:

Additionally, I've done some rewrites on chapter 20, particularly in Vásquez and Jennifer's interactions. For those that don't care, the biggest take away is that in canon Vásquez now knows that Jennifer have her G38

Alternate ending C - The darkest timeline by Kokoji
Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay on this one. The holidays and my new story slowed me down!


This picks up somewhere in the middle of chapter 17

Cassandra was in a flow state, perfectly mixing chemicals and pipetting precise measurements like it was second nature. Truthfully, it was. She had mastered these skills a long while ago. Even with the fate of many lives on her shoulders, she was in the zone. She stuck the nib of a fresh needle into the potent, golden mixture and drew the plunger up, sucking the ambrosia into the plastic. Capping it, she sighed. She'd finished in record time.

Jennifer delicately placed a hand on her shoulder. "Is it done?" She asked. Cassandra nodded and turned to face the 6'4 woman. It was still so odd seeing someone that had rivalled her in size not long ago standing so far above her.

"Okay. This is it." She held the syringe up. "Last resort. Last shot. Do not use this on anyone else, alright? And if you don't think it's a good idea then don't use it at all. I don't want another death on my hands." chewing her lip, she pushed the golden mixture into Jennifer's hands. "It's a 50-50 shot. Honestly, if the odds were any worse I'd just say stab Amber with this shit and let it explode her heart."

Releasing her, Cassandra stepped back. She actually mustered up a smile. The fact that things had gone so smoothly gave her a good feeling about this. "You got this, alright. Go and save everyone."

The nod from Jennifer didn't look to have as much conviction. But that didn't stop the blonde from taking the syringe and heading out. She sprinted through the corridors, thankful for the compound in her system and her efforts working out. She didn't feel winded at all, navigating through the maze effortlessly. As she passed through medbay she encountered some inmates still scuffling, oblivious to the real threat. Weaving between them, she gracefully slipped through the gaps, doing everything to get to the holding cells as quickly as possible. As she drew closer her stomach fell. There was something big and metallic blocking the path, but more worryingly, the floor was rhythmically rumbling. Putting the needle between her teeth, Jennifer climbed the gangway that had been propped up over the door. The vibrations from Amber's massive stomps meant it was difficult to stay steady, but she scaled it. Landing on the other side, the colour drained from her face.

"You're fucking pathetic." Amber said, looking down at her feet. "Then again, everyone is when compared to perfection, I guess." She sighed. Jennifer looked at the crater she was talking to. Those legs poking out. A lump began to form in her throat. A metallic clang drew the aryan's attention to Trish. The injured woman had seen Jennifer, trying to quietly haul herself up using the bars. Unfortunately, her gaze drew Amber's attention to the door where Jennifer was stood. "Ohooo, perfect." the aryan cooed. "I was waiting for you so I could murder you in front of your bitch girlfriend."

Being in front of Amber - actually standing before someone blown up to this scale, the situation felt completely different. On the monitors Amber was big. In reality she was oppressively massive. Taller than the ceiling. Body covered in blood flecked mounds and heaps of muscle and flesh. Her psychotic glee made Jennifer feel heavy, unbroken stare making it hard to breath. Malicious blue daggers were stared down at her. The tiny woman was frozen in front of this predatory beast. Until Amber moved.

She took a step forwards and Jennifer's fight or flight kicked in. She spat the syringe into her hand, twisting, trying to run away from the aryan. She made it a few bounding steps before the floor trembled with Amber's one huge, long step. She'd stepped clean over Jennifer, blocking her path with a meaty calf and a colossal foot. Jennifer struggled to get the cap off of the syringe. This was the last chance. She needed to take it. Swinging her arm, trying to plunge it into her leg.

The attempt was interrupted, Amber swiped Jennifer from the ground, sending her syringe holding hand flailing against the force of the giant palm dragging her up. Her ears popped as she was taken up towards Amber's face. "Hmmm, or maybe I should have some fun with you first." She giggled. "I think Trish would just love to hear your bones snapping one by one."

Jennifer was being ragdolled around, desperately trying to stab herself with the syringe. The aryan noticed the odd movements and pinched her arm by the forearm, pulling it to the side. Jennifer's other arm was pinned down by the tendril like fingers clenched around her. Helplessly she wriggled, trying to break free. "What the fuck is that?" Rumbled the giant, moving her new toy closer to her face, trying to see what was hidden in her closed fist. Warm breath buffeted the 6'4 woman, and as the massive frost like eye came closer, she willed her arm free.

Squirming and pulling, she managed to slip her limb out from the oversized thumb and forefinger. In one swoop she buried the syringe into that circle of ice. Her original plan was to force a fist into that especially vulnerable section of Amber's face, then stab herself in the neck and dose herself with the golden miracle formula.

Best laid plans have a knack for going wrong though. The angle had been all wrong and the tip of the syringe had sunk into her eye, not just Jennifer's fist. Amber reared back immediately, taking the syringe with her. Jennifer felt her stomach plummet just moments before she was flung. The falling stomach went rocketing into her throat, as if she'd just jumped off of a house. Landing, she twisted her ankle but managed a half roll, crashing into a wall and bashing the back of her head. Spots and lights flickered in her vision as she tried to right herself.

Across the holding cells Amber was furious. "Why do you cunts keep stabbing me in the *fucking eye*?!" She raged. This was much smaller than the baton, harder to grip. Eventually she managed to pull the tiny object free. One eye closed she inspected the syringe. "Wait, what the fuck is this?" An empty syringe. It was Amber's turn to feel fear now. "What did you inject me with?" She asked, worried, rounding back to Jennifer. What could that little cunt have concocted with the scientist?

Jennifer's equilibrium was askew, making it difficult to stand. Making it difficult to even think. However once she realised what Amber had just said, her body pushed away the pain and confusion, slicing through them with a new terror. Amber had been injected with G38.

Purple and gold swirled in her veins, mixing. Both Cassandra and Jennifer watched, one in person and the other over a monitor, breath held in their lungs. They prayed for the same thing. That Amber's massive, black, evil heart would give out under the strain and explode the tar it contained into a fountain within her chest.

Amber stalked forwards, fingers closing, fists clenching, syringe turning into dust. Her foot steps made the building quake. But before she reached her target something went wrong. The aryans face flickered into pain and her advance halted. She hunched over, insides burning. Her advance reversed a step. Then another. She tripped on the bodies and debris and fell backwards onto her ass, falling into the wall, bringing down dust and even more of the gangway. She clutched at her chest, eyes squeezed shut and teeth barred.

When her eyes reopened a burning scorn was cast at Jennifer. Even as the aryan's body crushed in on itself, molecules collapsing like an imploding star, her fury was palpable. Jennifer edged backwards pressing herself against the far wall, trying to distance herself as much as possible. Amber pawed her chest, above the gargantuan tits, muscles contracting. She groaned, wriggling and writhing, veins risen to the surface of her skin. Glimmering an even more incandescent purple, a map of roads across the alabaster plains. "What... Theeeee f-f-f... Ffffaaaaaackkkk did... Yoooew give me?" She whined heart blasting, leaping faster in her chest as the chemicals metabolised, lines of purple and gold visibly throbbing. Anguished moans escaped her and she struggled, painfully fidgeting in a horrid way.

Cassandra, Jennifer and Trish all watched her agony. Her back arched so suddenly that her hand smashed the wall, swells of her fat breasts bouncing and jiggling against her arms. This was it. This was working. Her body couldn't handle the two chemicals in her system and her heart was giving out. Hope flooded the three women and they waited for the dreadful, huge woman to finally stop moving.

That wasn't to be though. Nothing was so simple. Amber twisted slamming a fist into the wall again. Then again and again. The entire place was wobbling, glass falling from the broken windows, clouds of dust and concrete coming down with it. She swung her body, thrashing, and sent one girthy, muscled leg crashing through the wall of the holding cell, foot erupting out into the rain. The foundations of the building were begining to give. In a spiteful, final act, she was trying to tear the building down around them. This massive bitch was about to bury them in together with her, in her tomb. There was no way out of the situation. The only unbarred doors were blocked by the huge beast and Trish wouldn't be able to climb in her battered condition. Jennifer rushed towards her friend. They had a better chance of surviving together. Frantically, she picked over the bodies and rubble, reaching her, helping her upright and attempting to haul them both somewhere sturdy. Glancing back at Amber, what Jennifer saw made her skin crawl.

The aryan's eyes were half slitted open, squinting in pain but still watching. The energy it had taken to compromise the structure around them coupled with the pain and her heart failing left her collapsed against the wall, shrivelled in on herself. Despite her fallen form hanging limply, those eyes were locked onto the pair, hatred burning hot. But the troubling thing wasn't the hate, it was the fact that one eye was blue... And the other, glowing golden, was an ageis. The injury to her eye had healed and it had changed, making her heterochromatic. For some reason that sent a sense of foreboding through Jennifer. It was like Amber was evolving. Then, to grind that thought home, Amber, still wracked with pain, began to smile.

There was no time to think about that though. Together she and Trish pinned themselves close to the barred door, hugging each other as concrete rained down in chunks around them. Jennifer felt a thick limb wrap around her. Trish pulled her head down, into her chest and her enlarged bosom. Even injured the giant woman refused to allow Jennifer to take the brunt of the dangers falling around them. The blonde attempted to wrestle free but couldn't. Reluctantly she hugged herself to Trish.

"Ohhh... Fuuuuuck." Bassy, heavy words came, drawing the eyes of the two cowering inmates. Amber's collapsed form, propped up against the wall was doing something unexpected. Her long legs were splayed open, abs erratically huffing and flexing up and down as her fingers furiously worked in and out between her thighs. Was this some unhinged last act of dominance? Wondered Jennifer. But then she continued, "I don't know what that shit was... But th-this f-feels fuckin' ggggReeaAaaaat."

Oh fuck.

That tremble in her voice, octones flitting up and down, made Jennifer's heart sink. She'd heard that before. In the labs. When Amber had first started growing...

That sagging, crumpled form pressed against the back wall suddenly had new life breathed into it. She was inching upwards towards the ceiling, inflating, surging outwards as power unjustly filled the biggest bitch in cell block B. Knowing she was growing again, Amber decided to enjoy the moment, sadistcally pleasuring herself, watching the mice helplessly squirm, potentially smushed even tinier. All while she billowed larger.

"AaaaAaahhhhHhnnn." She moaned, mouth open, corners tilted up just slightly as she enjoyed herself. Her legs stretched and lengthened and thickened absurdly larger. The leg hanging out of the holding cells went on decimating more and more of the wall as she grew, dragging through cells and steel bars and concrete as it extended. Amber pulled her appendage in, content with the destruction for now. She wanted to savor the two cunts' deaths, after all. Watching their hopes falling apart was the icing on the cake.

"What did you do?" Whined Trish as she straightened up, watching the swelling, growing behemoth, fear in her voice.

"I-I didn't mean to." Sobbed Jennifer, still clinging to the seven foot plus woman. Even at their sizes, they had to dodge as a foot larger than either of them bulldozed passed, taking broken tiles and bodies with it, still growing. Jennifer had had to push Trish to the ground to escape the incoming threat. Sudden movement had made Trish wail in pain and, quickly, Jennifer scrambled to get her up. When she did another moan quaked the world.

Amber, the source of the shaking, was sitting straight again now and the soul rending realisation that her almost bleached hair was nearly at the ceiling hit Jennifer. Even on her ass she was 25 foot tall...

Seeing Jennifer and Trish dive out of the way of her foot had been too much for the giantess. The idea that her growth alone could murder the two gnats was just too fucking hot. It reminded her of burning ants with a magnifying glass while they were trapped in a ring of salt. She'd orgasmed on the spot, cum spurting out of her in bursts like she was a broken fire hydrant, creating a river of thick nectar spreading between her legs. The climax had bolstered her growth, forcing it faster and wilder. Her jaw jutted out painfully, teeth widening in her skull before the rest of her head ballooned to catch up. Her neck thickened, bull like, before stretching. Boulder shaped shoulders creaked outwards, biceps following suit, exploding before her forearms swelled, everything stretching longer finally and forcing her fingers even deeper into herself. Her back arched as her tits and pecs burst forwards, abs popping more defined two at a time, like the growth was travelling downwards. It all happened so quickly, her head rocketing into the concrete and then through it.

The straw that broke the camel's back. The building couldn't handle anymore. It was collapsing in on itself.

Trish let out a cry and curled into a ball around Jennifer, but the blonde kept her eyes peeled wide open. Wide open to see Amber move like lightning. See her pivot and roll, off of her ass, onto her knees. Her hands thundered down each a few yards from the two women, chest centered above them, breasts hanging pendulously, swaying overhead. Amber shielded them from the sky falling to earth. The abrupt halt to the rain confused Trish and eventually she too looked up.

What she saw was worse than death.

It awed her and terrified her in equal measures. Breasts bigger than cars swung back and forth, gurgling heavier and closer, fat nipples stretching to match her head. There were only a few patches of ceiling visible around Amber's bulk from their vantage point and with every second they dwindled smaller and smaller. Amber was filling the space like water in a glass. Her abs heaved with quiet laughter as one blue and one golden eye watched from between the swells of tit. The grey concrete gave way to the now blue sky, but even that was slowly being dominated by the red streaked field of white which continued to grow.

Their lives were saved by Amber which, somehow, was more disturbing than her letting them die. The aryan's eyes twitched, pain still scorching and stabbing her body. Her back bent upwards, stomach concaving and breasts thrusting lower, forcing the two inmates below to huddle smaller out of fear of being crushed. Amber's head smashed the floor, the ache becoming too much. This was a big one.

The floor shook around Jennifer and Trish. Stood in the epicenter of the earthquake they struggled to stay on their feet as Amber growth made the world heave. She was growing all around them, body pulsing outwards and upwards. The tits above swelled at an astounding rate, groaning as they swayed lower and lower in fitful bursts. They needed to move. Now. But both were so injured and Amber was growing so fast. Trish took the weight of a boob on her shoulders at time ran out, kicking Jennifer away and out from under the pale moon.

The blonde rolled along the floor as Trish was swallowed completely. Jennifer sprang back up to her feet, limping, smashing against the tit. Tiny hands pounded on the rounded wall of breast. "No, no, no, NO, NOO!" She cried, pulling and scratching. She wasn't sure if Amber felt it or if it was pure luck, but the aryan shifted and lifted, pulling her body upright. Sunlight bathed Trish. She'd been slammed flat, the weight crushing her prone on her front. Relief made Jennifer weak and she fell forwards, scraping at the floor to drag herself over to Trish. Flipping her over, she listened for her breathing. It was difficult to hear over the groans of the growing beast behind her, but she was sure there was no sound and no breath.

Launching into CPR, Jennifer pushed down on Trish's chest over and over, pausing only to blow air into her lungs. She ignored Amber, refusing to look at the metaphorical elephant in the room. The metaphorical elephant that had clearly outgrown this room...

Her vision blurred. This wasn't working. God, she couldn't handle any of this. Everything had gone to shit. Everything. And it was all her fault.

The world dimmed again and Jennifer stopped, the natural reaction to glance up taking hold. Amber had leaned forwards again, inspect what was happening, leering down at the two of them. Her face and neck, to big to fathom, loomed above, she smirked down at the fallen woman and the frankly comedic struggle to save her. Something snapped in Jennifer's brain looking at that smug face, emotions bursting free. "FUCK OFF!" Her face was a mask of hatred and sadness and desolation. She cried out again, "JUST FUCK Off! LEAVE US ALONE." Her shoulders rocked up and down as she sobbed, returning to her attempts to save her partner. Amber's laughter echoed, bouncing off the orange rocks around the prison, rattling the chain link fences, spurning Jennifer to push down on Trish's chest even harder.

The body under her hands gasped to life, blood shot eyes flashing open as muscle fibers seized. One tiny ray of light returned to life in the world. She'd saved her. Jennifer wilted, drooping, strength running out of her like watercolours in the rain, her mission complete. She was done. Exhausted. Crushed. Trish was the same, body uselessly weak. Defeated.

"Awwww, isn't that cUte!" Cooed Amber, voice still subtly changing as her body refused to stop growing. She'd positioned herself above the two specks, leaning over them to watch their pitiful actions. "You saved her! You sAved your little friEnd. It's so beautiful." Amber's tone began to darken. "Really. It is. It's beautiful." It turned cruel. "It's beautiful that she's gonna get to see this."

The colossus repositioned, face disappearing, zeppelin tits rising and stretching, disappearing away. Abs flashed by like a train passing and then her ass struck the earth like a meteor, her quads flanked the two women like cliffs. They were both filled with panic and fear but it was too late for any kind of escape attempt.

Jennifer's screams curdled Trish's blood as she was snatched away, up and off of the ground, by the 88 foot tall woman. "I told yoU I wanted you to sEe this." Amber chuckled to Trish, scooting her ass forwards, leaking, pulsing sex heating the air as it drew closer.

"You threw up last time you tasted my pussy, right?" Amber pouted at Jennifer, brining her close to her face. In her massive fist only her head, that golden bob shining in the sunlight, and her feet were visible. "See, my bIg bad gUrl didn't like that!" She patted her cunt with a wet slap, a giddy, mad expression forming. "You huRt her feelings. But like I alWays say, don't get mad, get even!"

That golden mane of hair whipped in the air as the blonde was jerked lower, coming so very close to Trish. "Now my pUssy wants to tAste you." A demonic giggled followed that statement and Jennifer felt the blazing heat coming from the voracious slit twitching by her feet. She was held horizontally, face near her companion, lower half next to the cavernous maw. Amber used her free hand to rub at her soaked sex, smearing her fingers with ambrosia and sending a shiver through her form. She used two fingers to open her labia, the red, wet, hungry mouth greedily yawning wide, strings of goo stretching between the lips.

Her captive wriggled desperately, still screeching as the fist moved deeper into the valley of muscle. Slowly, she opened her fingers, starting at the pinky, to reveal the dainty feet encased within them. The tiny woman's legs were pinned at the knees by her ring finger,but she still tried to kick, to writhe against the soft skin of Amber's palm. The aryan's eyes sparkled. She'd played a similar game before with the other inmates but she was so much fucking bigger now. Her cunt was at least as long as Jennifer was tall and now she could really eat someone with her snatch. Amber's canines glinted in the sun before she moaned, feeding Jennifer's feet into the moist opening. Every movement, every desperate flail, the giantess could feel it all. She released her lips, letting her labia slam shut around the tiny woman's ankles. Heavy, wet walls of muscle hugged Jennifer's limbs, stopping any further kicking. Amber opened her ring finger and with a grunt, flexed her muscles. Her prey's screaming became hysterical now as the poor blonde felt herself be tugged deeper. Amber's eyes rolled, cum spurting out onto her hand. "OhhhHhhh." She moaned, body throbbing bigger, submerging more of the woman in her sex.

The screaming willed Trish to move. She rolled and wobbled and stumbled, not able to stand but inching closer. Amber pushed her new toy deeper, middle finger opening as she stuffed more inmate into herself. Her cunt greedily sucked at Jennifer, taking the blonde in down to her hips. Then her waist. Panick stricken, she thrashed helplessly, hoarsely yelling. Amber let go of her now and gave a short giggle. "LOok Trish, no hAnds." Nibbling on her lip, she showed a truly disturbing control of her inner muscles. The blonde moved in and out of the massive vagina, abs being slathered in juices. Jennifer pressed her hands into the massive pussy lips, desperate, trying to pull free. Her fingers sunk into the soft skin, coarse strands of thick hair entangling her. Amber's grip was much too strong and her constant growth just meant she was being pulled deeper by the second.

"Jen!" Trish shouted, forcing herself closer. That cut through the frantic survival instincts that drove the blondes dramatic attempts to free herself. She looked up to see Trish approaching, hands outstretched. They reached for each other.

Clasping hands, Trish felt the knot around her stomach loosen a smidge, the warmth of Jennifer's touch being a fractional reassurance. "I-I got you." She smiled. "I've go-"

"UuuuhHhhhHHhhHNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" came a sound from the structure that surrounded the two women.

Amber was leaned back, propping herself up on her palms, looking down the mountains and hills of her body at the truly pathetic pair. She'd been watching the touching reunion, a smirk curling the corner of her parted lips, shallow breaths leaving her. This was it. The perfect way to eviscerate the bitch that had broken her nose. That noise left her as she poured every ounce of effort into what came next.

Her whole body tensed, toes curling, calves bunching, quads swelling, abs crunching. Her pussy too. Inside, her vaginal walls clamped. Gripped. Sucked. Her whole body, fueled by all the spiteful anger in the vile woman, grew.

The joined hands were torn apart, milky, pale fingers ripped from the larger, darker set. The two lovers were sheared apart. Trish never took her eyes off of her partner as she was eaten. Devoured. Slurped away with a wet squelch. Pulled down into the murky depths. Gone.

The mahogany toned woman was pulled forwards to the ground. She burst into tears, on her knees between the legs of an almighty creature. Seeing it all unfold, watching her own pussy destroy a relationship, break apart a life, Amber orgasmed harder than she ever had done in her life. The surge of size that accompanied the climax was the largest yet, pushing Amber's frame into a truly unbelievable size. The pressure coming down on the insect inside of her meant she was crushed like an aluminium can in a fist. Amber's ass ploughed forwards, a snow coloured land slide of skin and muscle as she throbbed into triple digits of size. The insignificant dot of a woman between her legs was ground out of existence without so much as a thought.

Amber laid back, dissolving the holding cells that had once held her into nothing. Basking in the pleasure and satisfaction, she stayed like that for a while. This had gone even better than she'd planned...

"We're approaching the hot zone." Crackled Epsilon 1.

"Roger that. Do you have a visual?"

"We're just coming over the ridge now, should have a visual in... What the fuck?..." The comms died off.

"Epsilon 1? Epsilon 1, do you read?"

"Yes, sir. We have an issue. The hot zone has... Um, been destroyed."

"WHAT?! HOW?!" Came a distorted, irate reply.

"You're not going to believe this, sir. I think it's one of the inmates. She... Jesus, she's huge."

"How big?"

"It's hard to tell, she's laying down." Replied Epsilon 1.

"She must be well over 200 feet tall." Epsilon 2 said.

"That's... That shouldn't have been possible."

"She's noticed us." Said Epsilon 3, banking his black helicopter to the right.

"Do we have permission to engage?" A hint of nerves could be audible in Epsilon 2's voice.

"No, just observe. Try and get low, can you see any survivors?"

"Sir, she's... She's pleasuring herself with what's left of a watch tower. That's all that's left of the penitentiary. I don't think-"

"She's getting up!"

"No! No, do not engage. Ascend out of her reach and observe the situatio-" Screams pierced dispatch's ears and he pulled the headphone away from his ear, wincing. "What's going on?!" He barked.

"Epsilon 2 is down!" Shouted the third pilot. "She fucking... She fucking jumped! We're at 500 feet and she slapped him out of the fucking sky!" It was true. Amber had rocketed up and slapped the black military helicopter into a ball of flames.

"ASCEND FASTER THEN!" Bellowed dispatch.

"Oh fuck. OH FUCK!" Epsilon 1 veered to and fro, trying to get height as fast as possible. He'd dippd lowest of all the helicopters. Rapidly he hit 800 feet, slowing the gut churning rise. As he had gained height, he'd flown over Amber and was now struggling to see her behind him. "Can you see her?" He asked his Co-pilot in a hushed tone.

"No, she must be right behind us. Wait, I got her on a cam. She's just standing there. What is she doing? She's got her eyes closed."

They managed a neat, slicing turn to face Amber. By the time they did, her eyes were open again, mismatched eyes locked onto them. Something was wrong. She looked closer than before. "Is she...." It must have been a trick of the light, right? Epsilon One though. "Is she growing?" Asked the co-pilot.

"SHIT!" Screamed Epsilon one, jamming the stick to the left and back. With a gargantuan burst of size and a jump that defied human biology, Amber used a king Kong-esque swatting motion to still reach the helicopter, taking it out of the sky.

She held the whole thing in her hand, thick fingers being grazed and cut by the rotors before they yielded. With a light squeeze she shattered the glass and concave the metal. Carefully, she wriggled a finger into the cockpit and pinched at one of the pilots. She extracted him and crunched it into a metallic ball, disregarding the other pilot.

For the co-pilot reality came screeching to a halt. This couldn't be real. This just couldn't be. A face the size of a house grew closer. "Hey, little guy." Boomed her voice, making his ears ring. "Where did you and your lil' friends come from?" She asked with a predatory grin.

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