Laura hefts her huge HH-cups with both hands. They sit high on her chest, at odds with their fullness and weight. Her shirt is stretched to its limit, pumped full of jiggling flesh until the bottom curves of her breasts spill out the bottom. She needs something a hair more appropriate, if exploring this newfound power is to make it past the front door.
She opens her closet, expecting nothing but an old XL hoodie from Greg to fit her. She's greeted with an entirely fresh wardrobe. Huge bras are tucked into neat rows on the bottom shelf. A wide selection of crop tops, v-necks, and dresses hang from the top bar. Every item looks like a perfect fit, built for her new body.
Laura notices an option selected in the app.
Historical Changes.
Now there's an explanation. She decides to test the theory a little, still giddy about the unreal proportions of her new body. Laura picks out a bikini, crimson with a thick band and strong underwire. It takes some trial and error to get the thing on, a full-body motion to strain to secure the heavy metal hook holding the top together place. The bottoms are an easier proposition, but far from any garment she's ever worn before. They start high above the hip bone, dipping down with a dramatic V. The back arches up and around, before cutting downward between Laura's small ass.
Small? Nonsense.
A few taps on her phone, and Laura commits a second change. The loading screen appears once more. There's a soft creak, and the percentage ticks upward. The fabric stretches, pushed outward slowly and steadily. Tight, shapely muscle pumps her backside full and round. She went for a more modest change, just an extra 8 pounds of muscle where she needed it most. Thighs thicken to match, and Laura becomes a woman who never skips leg day.
In her closet, a pink booty band and kettlebell blink into existence next to her laundry hamper. In this new reality, she truly never skips leg day.
Laura turns, and examines her new figure in the full-length mirror. The bikini's top presses her huge breasts together into a valley of cleavage, and the bottoms perfectly frame her strong new ass. After a moment's consideration, a flowery coverup wraps loosely over the ensemble, and she throws a towel over her shoulder.
Ready for the beach. Deep down a memory that wasn't there before flickers to life. New Laura loves the beach. The sun, the sand, the stares. She's got it, and loves to flaunt it.
On her way to the door, and hears a rustle and clatter in the kitchen. Laura pauses for a moment. No better time to test how historical these changes are, than the present.
The blender whirrs to life as she rounds the corner. Greg stands shirtless in a pair of gym shorts, fresh from another workout. He looks the same as before, 225 lbs of muscle and a towering 6' 2", almost a foot taller than her. The outlines of a lean eight-pack pop to life as he turns to greet her.
"Oh, hey Lulu," he says casually as the protein shake settles into an opaque uniform pink and the blender falls silent.
"How was your workout?" She asks.
Laura leans both elbows on the counter, and tips forward just enough that there's no way he wouldn't notice the changes under her oversized coverup.
"Been stalled." Greg grunts. "Muscle's just not packing on the way it used to the last couple bulks."
"You are big already." Laura replies.
Greg hums non-committal under his breath. "Not quite big enough."
And there was an opportunity for another experiment. Laura claims a kitchen chair and opens her phone. Tapping the Switch Profile button she types in the next target. Greg Friedman.
If more muscles is what her brother wants, more muscles he will get. A 3D model identical to the man standing across the room spins on-screen. The Muscle Mass slider is easy to find. She bumps it ten pounds higher, and the shadows under the model's pecs deepen.
"How big would you want to be, if you could pick?" Laura feigns almost total disinterest.
"Realistic?" Greg asks.
"No just... hypothetical."
"Huge. The biggest." Greg flexes an arm to accentuate the point. "A couple Mr. Olympia got on stage over 300 pounds. That means in the offseason they were walking around weighing at least 320."
"I didn't realize you wanted to compete like that." Laura replies.
"That's the rub." Greg sighs. "To get that big, the drugs they take could kill a horse. It's luck and good genetics to live out a full career at that size. I don't care about being jacked that much."
Laura hums under her breath, and moves the slider.
At 300, muscle explodes off her brother's frame. At 320, his thighs are larger than her waist. And still she pushes the slider higher. 330. 340. 350.
She settles on 360, a nice, round number.
There's a text box below the Historical Changes option labelled Limitations.
No pharmaceuticals or steroids. She types.
With a silent count of three, Laura taps Apply.
The loading screen pops up.
0%
"Have you seen my-" Greg gets half the question out before he's punched in the gut. All the air drives from his lungs.
With a grunt, her brother leans forward, panting with exertion. A red hue spreads across his bare chest, and veins thump thicker with each passing second. Heavy breaths fill the kitchen.
20%
With an audible creak, his back widens. Thick, juicy muscle drives wider inch by inch. Greg's shoulders pump rounder with each pulsating heartbeat. From angular to softball size, then fuller and fuller, toward cannonballs.
"Come on."
40%
His arms shudder upward into a bicep flex, savage and strong. The mysterious powers coursing through race to respond. Arms stretch stronger and fuller until Greg's skin can scarcely accommodate them. Tremors race through his body as a mountain range forms across his upper body. Already sizeable muscles bulge toward impossible proportions. Past baseballs. Past softballs. Past any arm Laura's ever seen before.
Greg twists and forces them both straight. Triceps pump thicker and thicker. Horseshoes running from shoulder to elbow add inch after inch of size. Forearms push to freaky proportions, cut and lean and massive.
60%
"Legs." Greg grunts. "Tree trunks. I need it."
He's found a semblance of control, and uses it well. With a ferocious stomp, Greg slams one leg down hard enough to crack the hardwood floor. A jolt of herculean proportions doubles the size of his thigh. With a grunt of satisfaction, his face twists in concentration. Laura can see every muscle tighten, flex, and grow.
He takes another step forward, and the floor suffers another injury. The other leg follows suit. Shivering with power, the muscles inflate with impossible size. Greg's a heavyweight now. Thighs fighting for space, forcing his feet apart.
80%
He's not done.
With a growl, Greg bears down into a most muscular. Every part of his body explodes into sharp relief. Pecs judder and thicken heavy and full. Animalistic gasps fill the room.
"More."
With the demand, his body quakes and replies. Every muscle adds an inch. His already bulging frame pumping fuller with each passing second. Skin stretches to its limit as huge muscles push outward with reckless abandon.
"Just a little more." Greg growls.
He gets what he wants. His eight-pack blasts to unbelievable size. Rocky cobblestones lining his torso. Arms swell from footballs to globes. Greg could take the world from Atlas, and never break a sweat.
100%
The window closes.
Her brother pants, eyes cast down to the ground. His head comes up to look her in the eye, atop his gargantuan new body. He blinks at her twice, and a sheen seems to come over his vision.
"So are you going to hit the beach, or what?"
What could be the reason for Greg's giant build?
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