She was unbelievably stunning. She looked like she was close to your age and about 5'9", and she had close-cropped silky black hair and perfectly smooth tanned skin of Korean-American descent. But those observations paled in comparison to her physique. She looked like she'd walked straight out of a Greco-Roman story, like she was a marble-carved statute of Athena come to life. She was so shockingly toned, sculpted, and muscular that you did a double-take, and yet she still possessed an inimitable aura of feminine charm, with decently-sized breasts and a quite large and perky butt. She looked alluringly strong without coming across as a steroid-chomping nut with bulging muscles. Her pronounced muscles and curves were in perfect harmony, creating a figure you could barely take your eyes off of.
But then came the real reason you were shocked, which was that you recognized the woman almost immediately. It was Vanessa Ohng, your wife's best friend and roommate from back in her college years at Weston University!
And clearly, seeing you hadn't come as nearly a shock to the beautiful giantess, as she gave you a shit-eating grin. "Surprise, Allegra! Guess who?"
"Van?!?" You exclaimed, blurting out Vanessa's nickname without meaning to, simply because of how floored you were.
Vanessa chuckled. "That's right! How could I resist putting my hat into the ring for a meeting like this?"
"How do you mean?" You asked, your brain still rebooting.
Vanessa closed the door behind her, and then eased into the chair across from you (her muscular form tensing in the most eye-catching way as she sat, and it didn't help how attractive and skintight her black sports bra and white compression shorts were). You had to force yourself to snap your jaw shut. Vanessa had been stunning back in college, even though it had been Brinley who had won your heart. Now, about two decades later, Vanessa was somehow even more beautiful.
She clapped her hands together. "Last month, when I was getting lunch with your wife, she spilled the beans about this clinic of yours finally opening up to normal-sized girls." Vanessa smiled. "So, I signed up for the Small Stature, Big Heart newsletter, and immediately as I could I signed up for a PT session and requested you by name! How could I pass up getting physical therapy with a master like yourself?"
You blushed at her praise. "I...kinda think you're the master in terms of physicality, Van."
She waved her hand. "Oh, pssh. Maybe in terms of pumping guns or going three rounds in the ring. I don't know shit about PT, and my body is aching like crazy, which is why I'm ceding to your expertise here!" She grinned, as effortlessly laidback and confident as always.
"Well, I'll do all I can to help you out." You laughed, smiling so hard your face hurt. Vanessa had a real way of energizing any room she walked into, which was ironic considering how subdued she can be and how little she actually liked bringing too much attention to herself (though you'd heard she'd lately grown a little more extroverted, thanks in no small part to a certain job of hers).
Vanessa cracked her knuckles. "Can I just say, it's awesome to talk with you like this. I seriously feel like it's been a while since we last talked, you're always so busy." She shook her head. "But look at you, doing so well for yourself! You hear these stories of tinies getting into messes, but yet you're hearing happy and healthy, and a damn PT master! That's so cool!"
And like that, your enthusiasm ebbed a bit.
There were two major things about Vanessa that you'd learned about her back when she was your wife's roommate and you first befriended her, and it was clear those two things still existed. Well, one of them was clear, the other you could only hope not to experience.
The one thing about her you hoped to avoid was what you'd come to dub Vanessa's 'Workout Whirlpool'. Whenever Vanessa exercised (and she did it very often), it was like the cosmic forces of the universe conspired to throw you into her path. The number of times you'd ended up crushed and squished under her muscular, curvy, sweaty body while she was working out was absurd. Truly, it strained credulity, and yet time and again if she exercised within a mile radius of you, you'd somehow end up squashed by her before her workout finished.
In fact, despite Vanessa's confidence that it had been 'a while' since you'd last talked, it certainly hadn't been long since you'd seen her. Brinley hung out with her twice a month or so, and nearly each time you were there too, unintentionally. Whether splattered onto Brinley's ass, stuck to your wife's yoga mat, or molded into a sweat rag because of a prank by Carmine and then shared by both your wife and Vanessa, you'd seen quite a bit of the Korean-American over the past few months. Not that'd you'd been conscious enough through all that pain and sweat to pay much attention.
The second thing about Vanessa was a bit worse to handle, and much harder to ignore.
Vanessa Ohng was what could charitably be described as a 'Passive Ally' of tinies. She was effortlessly nice, kind, caring, loyal, and extremely attentive and observant. She also genuinely believed tinies deserved respect and shouldn't be outwardly attacked. The trouble was...it stopped there for her. Vanessa, despite all of her good, just intrinsically lacked any and all empathy for tinies. It didn't manifest in her being mean to them. It just manifested in this impenetrable aura of empathy-less behavior.
She'd only ever use the word 'tinies', and not the more considerate 'affected'. She'd shake her head at the sight of cruel giantesses hurting your shrunken brethren, but unless she knew them personally she wouldn't interfere herself. She'd casually say innocently insensitive or unintentionally demeaning things about you and your affected peers. She'd assume too much about how much affected could handle, particularly when it came to her extremely languid pace at saving tinies she herself had squished. A thousand times you'd been crushed by her, she'd spot you, then she'd just keep crushing you because 'I have a little bit more to go in my workout and it'd be inconvenient to stop now, hang in there Allegra'.
Honestly, she was better than 90% of random giantesses one could meet on the street...but you often wished she'd improve and grow. And yet, your gentle attempts to educate her had always failed in the past, and you'd long since come to accept that Vanessa was just biologically predisposed to always falling into that 'Passive Ally' descriptor.
You hid your deeper feelings and smiled. "Yep, it's been my dream job to be a physical therapist! I'm super happy working here...if a little nervous to be handling unaffected clients now."
Vanessa smirked playfully. "Oh, us normal-sized girls can seem scary, but you'll handle me and any other clients with no issue knowing how good you are at this stuff! We could even say I've trained you to be tough, right? It sure felt like you always found a way to end up under me back in the day." She laughed, and you had to slightly force yourself to laugh alongside her.
Switching topics, you cleared your throat. "But, uh, what about you, Van? Still fighting in that...league thing?"
She grinned. "The Fierce Fighting Femme Fatale League? Nah, I retired about a year ago."
"Really?" You asked, eyes widening. "Shame I only got to see you in one match."
(Technically, you'd been to the Fatale League three different times to watch Vanessa participate in the exciting all-female wrestling league, where both affected and unaffected competed. However, the first trip you'd tumbled into Brinley's popcorn and been eaten minutes after arriving, and the second time Carmine tagged along and somehow convinced your ditzy wife that you'd been safer and comfier in her shoe, and so Brinley had stuffed you into her boot without another word and you spent hours suffering under her sweaty, smelly toes.)
Vanessa shrugged. "It was my time, those younger gals can have at it. Even if...I guess some ladies my age and even older still compete. But, I mean, I've been back twice already for fancy celebration matches as a sort of cameo fighter. And, would you believe it, but I still have fans? That's crazy?"
"Who could ever stop loving Zenrage?" You quipped, referencing Vanessa's Fatale League fighter name, the name chosen to reflect Vanessa's chill nature but extreme power.
Vanessa let out a loud laugh. "But nah, these days I'm just working at a gym. I'm the head boxing and wrestling coach at this strength-training gym out where I live, about forty minutes from here. This place called Momentum. Super fun job that keeps me in shape, and helps me keep other normal-sized girls in shape. Never worked with tinies before, even though I swear our gym allows them..." She shrugged.
"That sounds like a great career path for you." You noted.
"It's fun as hell, yeah. Plus, it's where I met..." Vanessa suddenly trailed off, and grew uncharacteristically quiet. "Uh...never mind. We can talk about that later."
Your eyes bulged from your head at the sight of an unmistakable pink blush of embarrassment growing in the woman's cheeks.
Never in your life had you seen Vanessa Ohng blush. As an asexual woman, she'd never outwardly (or at least easily visibly) demonstrated attraction or crushes on anyone back in college. Had she finally found someone who had captured her heart? You'd have to press for details later.
Vanessa coughed. "Anyway, coach! How should we start?"
You chuckled. "Alright, you're right. Let's get going. You said you were sore, right? Well..."
1) "...let's start with some stretches right here, to get warmed up."
2) "...let's push you to the limit anyway, and head back out to the weights and equipment room."
3) "...let's see if a good long soak in the hot tub downstairs will ease your aches."
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