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.