Draining my Brother

Disclaimer: This short story features topics such as Female Muscle Growth & Superiority, as well as Humiliation and Shrinking of men.
All characters in this story are considered 18+

The supporting art has been created using Stable Diffusion and Photoshop

Please enjoy!

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I took a deep breath, gathering all my courage and knocked on Josh's door, still with doubt in my mind.

“Yeah?” I could hear his annoyed voice from inside his room. Opening the door, I saw him working out. As usual he sat on his own workout bench, because ever since he joined the gym last year, he had been obsessed with working out.
After the first couple of months after he joined the gym, I started to avoid the topics gym, fitness, dieting or anything remotely similar.
But Josh didn’t care and kept on bragging about his gains whenever he could. I just had to look in his general direction when he got home from a workout to get him started. “Impressive, aren’t they?”, “These are I-Don’t-Care-How-Many Inches” or “See something you like?” were his favorites. Of course, always followed with him flexing.

At first, I liked his growing confidence, but after a few months it outgrew him and started to get annoying. Making him more unbearable than before. He even remodeled his room to make space for a little workout area, consisting of a bench, a pull-up rack and a few dumbbells. He was busy curling what looked to be 20kg. “Impressive!” I tried to fake some interest. Josh only huffed annoyed and stopped his workout, putting down the weight. He already looked pissed. “What do you want, Zoe?”

I gulped, felt my heart starting to race, more than it already did. I took a few steps forward, towards him, again gathering all my courage. “May I…” I began stammering, being too nervous to put out a single logical sentence. “Yeah?” he interrupted me annoyed and impatient, gesturing me to hurry up.

“May I… feel them?” I finally managed to ask, taking him by surprise. His eyes widened and he sat straight up, almost trying to show off even more.
“I… um, sure!” he said surprised and audibly hesitant. But he allowed it, that was all that counted. His stood up and got closer to me. Putting his arms on his hips, he slowly, demonstratively flexed his lats. He towered over me and smiled down. He literally shadowed me. This felt humiliating, but was hopefully worth it.

I was barely able to reach his shoulders with my short stature and arms and gave them a little squeeze. As I did, I felt a light tingle. And so did he, by the look on his face.
Josh however smiled again, this time confidently, almost cocky. I ran my hands down his shoulders, pumped biceps and veiny forearms, slowly feeling every little strain and vein. Reaching his hands I loosely grabbed them, almost delicately and smiled up to him.
I could feel a sudden rush of energy from his hands, quickly surging and spreading throughout my body. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Almost twitching Josh let go of my hands and took a step back. “What was that?” he asked skeptical, a little worried. “What was what?” I tried to fake innocence. “This feeling, didn’t you feel that?” he already looked a little worried, squinting his eyes slightly and looked at me. “I’m sorry” I continued, shrugging my shoulders “I didn’t feel anything!”
Josh scratched his head and shook it. “Whatever… are we done here?” he asks and tried to play it cool again.

I simply nodded and walked backwards out of his room, slowly closing his door. As I shut the door, I could hear him picking up the weights again, continuing his workout. Only now I could clearly hear him grunting with each rep he made.
This felt exciting, did it really work? I quickly rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me and tossing my shirt across the room. Nervously I made my way towards the mirror. It worked. I definitely took some muscles from Josh. Maybe even some of his height. I wasn’t muscular by any means, but I clearly looked and felt stronger than just moments ago.

My heart began racing again. Seeing myself grown, even a little and knowing I could get more, felt intoxicating. And I wanted more. But Josh would grow suspicious if I would ask him daily to feel his muscles. I had to be more discrete about it.

Over the next couple of days, I looked for and used any excuse to touch my brother. Making excuses to hug him, lean against him, or even brush past him. I would touch his arm or hand as we’d pass each other in the hallway, slowly draining his bulk and adding it into my own growing frame. It wasn’t much each time, but it did add up. Occasionally he would still twitch or say something, but I think he got used to it. And so did I. Not even a week had passed and I had to resort to rather baggy and loose fitting clothing, whenever he was around. He would probably notice something about us, about me.

A few weeks later I heard him grunting loudly, followed by cursing and sounds of metal clanging.
I knocked on his door, not even waiting for a reply and opened it. Josh had difficulties lifting a 15kg dumbbell and visibly struggled to complete even one proper rep.
Trying not to burst out laughing, I put on a serious face and walked up to him, kneeling down and looking him into his eyes. He looked completely upset, even close to tearing up. “What’s wrong?” I asked, sounding as innocent as I could.
He let go off the weight and jumped up. Angrily stomping around his room. “I don’t understand this!” he shouted. “This used to be a mere warmup weight for me and today I can’t even lift it once.”
I carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Again, a surge of energy left his body and went straight into mine. I wasn’t even trying to take his strength at that moment, but it was definitely welcome.
“Don’t worry!” I said, hoping to calm him a little. “Maybe you’re just a little sore or overworked!”
I ran my fingers over his shoulder, slowly calming him again. Compared to last week he felt soft, almost fragile and I was able to reach him almost with ease. Josh however, didn’t seem to notice, being to worried about his lessening strength. “Guess you’re right!” he said, defeated and walked to his bed, dropping face first into it. I gave him a soft pat on his back, before leaving his room without another word.

Silently closing his door, I could finally drop my masquerade. I was beaming from ear to ear. His dwindling strength, his despair almost made me feel accomplished. My chest swollen with pride, I walked into the bathroom, quickly removing my top and walking in front of the mirror.
“Holy shit!” I whispered to myself. Over some mere week I was able to put on almost as much muscle, as Josh did in his entire year of working out. Small, but noticeable veins started to spread all throughout my chiseled body. Still a little in disbelief I raised my arms and flexed my biceps. “Holy shit!” I repeated myself. They grew bigger than my legs just weeks ago and probably twice as strong.
I couldn’t help but feel every single muscle of my new body. My bloated biceps and veiny forearms, my round firm chest, topped with hard pecs, my perfectly defined sixpack and my tree trunk like legs.

A few more days and I would need new clothing. I laughed. I really needed to give these babies a try. Next time Josh was out for the gym I would sneak in his room and give these guns a proper pump.

It didn’t take long. As Josh left the next day, heading to the gym and probably more disappointments. Putting on just a bra and some panties I snuck into his room. I wanted to see myself in all my glory.

The 15kg dumbbell was still laying on the ground, where Josh had left it. He was probably to weak to pick it up and put it away. Confidently, I grabbed the dumbbell and lifted it. To my surprise this felt easy, too easy. Completing some first curls I put it back where I found it to not raise suspicion and walked over to his complete rack. I remembered BROTEHR using 20kg as his max, but I wanted more and knew I could do more.
Grabbing 25kg with each hand, I took a deep breath and lifted both in one swift and smooth motion. So far so good. I let out a loud grunt, as I curled the weights for the first time. It was challenging, but manageable. And it slowly gave my babies a little pump. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins, fueling my biceps. I completed rep after rep, grunting loudly, almost shouting in excitement.
But lifting these weights almost felt easy, disappointed. Josh always made this look difficult. I felt a little frustrated. Until my eyes wandered towards his pull up rack, giving me a crazy, yet truly challenging idea.
Putting one dumbbell away I tightly grabbed the other with my left hand. My right hand enclosed the bar above me.

Slowly bending my legs, I held myself for a few seconds. I was at least able to hold my weight and an extra 25kg. With just one hand.
I gritted my teeth and slowly managed to pull myself up. I quickly felt my heart starting to pound, harder and harder. Blood rushing through my thick veins into my bulging biceps and back muscles. It felt like they slowly grew on the spot. “1… 2…3!” I basically shouted, cheering myself on. Lowering myself slowly to the ground, the floor beneath me started to squeak under my new weight. I smiled and continued my routine with the other side.

I was like in a trance, shouting, grunting, as I did pull-up after pull-up. Until suddenly “What the fuck!” I heard my brothers voice, screaming from behind me. He must’ve returned earlier from the gym, probably after failing even more exercises. Being midst pullup, I slowly lowered myself again and waited a few seconds, being to uneasy to turn around and face him, just yet.
Nervous and slowly I put the dumbbell back on the rack and finally turned around. The workout gave me another growth spurt, making us the same height now. Only I was way more muscular than he was now or even a few weeks ago. I smiled at him and scratched my head, trying to find words to explain myself.

“How did you get so big?” Josh asked, almost childishly naive, looking me up and down. He was practically gazing at my muscles. It really wasn’t his fault. I looked ginormous, like an amazon warrior, capable of defeating anything and anyone. Thick veins covered my entire gorgeously bloated body. And my choice of clothing did the rest, leaving little room for imagination. Just as I had planned. Even if it wasn’t meant for him.

Yet, his initial excitement and enthusiasm quickly vanished, as he must’ve realized the reason for my sudden size and his slow shrinking. He almost started to look angry, furious. And I was its cause.
“Are you the reason I look like this?” he asks through gritted teeth, slowly raising his voice and pointing at his puny frame.
“Well… You could say that…” I finally admitted, still insecure.
He walked closer, stopping directly in front of me. “You made my live a living hell, Zoe!” he shouted at me, even started poking my chest.

The feeling of guilt suddenly spread and yet, I had to smile. I felt confident, feeling his little finger was not even able to dent my chest. He looked down upon himself and then back at me. Close up he looked even tinier than before, not to mention weak, almost flimsy.
With each poke I could feel another tingle, making me grow even further, making things even worse for him, just by trying to mock and intimidate me.

Puffing up my chest a little, made him stop immediately. He even took a step back, looked nervous.
My smile however, only got wider. He had respect, was afraid of me, even if he’d never admit it.
“So what?” I asked provocatively, taking a step towards him. Josh kept backing up, his face now showing visible unease.
“Maybe I did steal your strength!” I started poking his chest like he just did to me. But I had a little more strength in my fingers, making him stumble backwards, as I pushed him back and back again like a toy. Each poke made me grow further, faster the angrier I got. Slowly growing past him, I grinned down at him. Now I was the one shadowing him. With the last push he fell backwards onto the ground, still trying to get away from me he started to crawl back.

I burst out laughing. “Look at you, you pathetic little man! Afraid of his own sister!” I flexed again. The sound of tearing seams and fabric filled the room, as my bra struggled to keep my spread back muscles and puffed up chest contained. His eyes grew wide, as did my smile. Followed by a almost menacing laugh.
“Give me back my strength, my muscles!” he shouted at me. And yet, it felt like he was begging.
“No chance!” I assured him confidently “I like this new body way too much to just give it back!”