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Description
It was every lifeguard's nightmare, and any lifeguard's instinct. Biting her lip until she knew the kid was out of sight, off-duty Lifeguard Alex shudders to herself. "Oh no... no, no, no..."

Tears roll down her cheeks, not from the sting of alcohol swabbing over the jab site. Nor, as she thought, from fear. Fear of what that needle could represent. Was it discarded after a single use? After some bastards had an argument?

"They're not that likely to be diseased, and the sun's been up for a while, c'mon, you know the science, Alex!" she groaned at herself. But the tremble continued.

Strangely enough, her fear over the chance of infection meant that Alex didn't see the first signs. Running down her arms. The strength, hidden under a comfortable layer, began to cord up, and tense, and tremble...

And thicken.

Was it left behind after some raid? Alex wondered. I thought I saw leftover stuff in there. The shakes were hitting her bad now. Worse than anything in her life. She couldn't believe how bad the shaking was-- she thought she was braver than this!

In fact, she was. Though she didn't know it, the shaking wasn't the result of either some twisted drug high about to break through her, or from her own terror at the possibilities being jabbed by a discarded needle left.

The alcohol swab was unnecessary. The action of the dosage worked immediately, and even in most bodies, would have increased her immune system's strength and efficiency so greatly that it would have burnt out existing diseases of even the worst sort.

But she didn't know. She didn't even know when her forearms started to lose their curvy softness, and take on a harsh elegance. A bulky beauty.

A brawny beauty. The change happened in mere seconds. Deliberately. It had been designed to, a desperate attempt to render some victory from a very costly apparent failure.

Before the old woman living alone in the nearby home could even understand the frantic child's repeated requests to phone 911, Alex's muscle mass had already doubled. An ecstatic sensation accompanied it, and a good thing, too.

Because the scientists who created TransMass included some of the stretch-juice formula in a 'brilliant' attempt to reduce the pain of transformation. Her bones and skin were literally starting to stretch and extend, to push out.

Or rather, her skin is pushed out, smoothly and painlessly stretching, over an increasingly immense collection of powerful, fibrous muscle. Her bones rise to the task, thickening out like an elastic-powered hero, but then, layer after layer, the bones' own internal structure is changed. Internal structures ring and incorporate hyper-carbon nanotube composites, reinforced by their own potent mass and a direct Sym-Biological link to pour in preternatural energies.

Suddenly, right before Alex's eyes, the bleeding tear from the off-center palm jab... heals! "What th--" she eyelps, and then staggers backwards.

Her feet driving into the sand.

All throuhout Alex's body, the transformative agents developed by Darkweb scientists go to into overtime. In most people, this is when the failure starts-- a small burst of transformation that burns itself out, resulting in no more than an hour's worth of time turned into a tank-shredding giant or giantess. But in Alex's cells, a slightly different series of chamicals drive an unmapped extra pathway for cellular respiration. Part of how she was a thicc-bod at the same time as being a tough, fast lifeguard.

For her, that extra pathway interacted with the Sym-Biological link. Sustained it.

Enhanced it! By the time the child managed to get to a phone to call for help, Alex's muscle mass alone had increased *eightfold*, and then wrapped in upon itself. Becoming denser. Tighter. Stronger!

Roaring with delight and almost explosive energy. Her muscles bulge and expand until her thighs alone are bigger than the torsos of those bulk-obsessed guys with the sunglasses and delightfully (to Alex's mind) itty-bitty speedos. Her characteristic thicc-ness does not abandon her, however.

In her transformation to muscle-goddesshood, the powerful, running prominenences of her quads still manage an elongated, curvy frame form. It may be thicker than those dudes at the mid-thigh, but nothing is distorted or freakish, unlike usual users of VEIL or VILE's Hourhulk Juice. Instead of a creaking, squat and distended frame-- like the goliaths that had fought it out over a power-drug deal gone wrong just last night-- her vast musculature is well-developed, sculpted as though from stone.

Or battle-steel alloy! Stronger and stronger Alex grows, bigger and bigger; her simple, thin overcoat shredding away in moments. Her somewhat more rugged jean shorts become competitors for Daisy Duke's for Least Coverage Possible, and then, as she passes eight feet tall and still... growing... strong!

Riiiiip! goe her top, shredding itself down to a bikini Flinders and rags of her shorts go flying, leaving a denim bikini bottom.

And leaving her impossible, massive, super-amazonian physique bare. Towering up to the edge of the roof of the nearby house, it's not so much that Alex would put the beefiest bodybuilding himbo to shame...

It's that she'd send one her own height away crying, looking like a spindly little schoolboy. Vast legs like redwood treetrunks, pulsing with throbbing muscle hold her immensely ripped body up with ease-- the same ease with which she could kick in the side of a destroyer!

Alex feels her hair trace back along thick, elevated traps that look like rolling dunes smoothed in some martial artist's zen garden, over lats spreading and flaring high. Instinctively posing, she pumps herself up on her toes, and her newly engorged calves shove out like a pair of striated fists-- per leg!

Her already amazing quads and hamstrings take on the look of a rolling hill country, with the rivery lengths of cord-like muscles, like her bad girl sartorius muscles, swelling proudly between them. The shredded shield of her rugged abs lock into position. Even her intercostals bulk out as she flexes full-body!

Her pectoral muscles, perhaps sadly, are mostly invisible. It's something of a shame, too; did lifetimes of most super-strong metas go into just the development of fine, taut pecs, this is what they'd get. But the reason...

The extra-dimensional energy known as orgone has infused her body as a part of the transformation. Since she's female, it collects... and collects... and collects in her two heavy hanging hooters, bouncing and bobbling, nearly unclad in the all-but-shredded shirt-top. Only a bit of her muscularity is visible, right at the top-- but what perfection it is.

Arms so thick that they'd make a kodiak's legs look spindly crown Alex's body, save for her corded neck. Brawny, beefy, and just plain buff, long and chiseled into perfect development, they stretch out and out into two powerful, boulder-crushing hands.

WIth a happy sigh, she tilts her head to the left, making a ferocious grin. Her huge delts and powerful forearms pump out, squishing and squeezing and grinding against her massive biceps as they, too, surge freely. Her hands raise towards the sky and she groans again. "This... is MAGNIFICENT!"

The child and the emergency are forgotten. Off in the distance, she spies gargantuan humps of rock, rising from the beach amidst the trees. "Oh yeah," she rumbles, as her long legs begin to carry her in longer leaps. "I wanna see what I can lift!"

Description
It was every lifeguard's nightmare, and any lifeguard's instinct. Biting her lip until she knew the kid was out of sight, off-duty Lifeguard Alex shudders to herself. "Oh no... no, no, no..."

Tears roll down her cheeks, not from the sting of alcohol swabbing over the jab site. Nor, as she thought, from fear. Fear of what that needle could represent. Was it discarded after a single use? After some bastards had an argument?

"They're not that likely to be diseased, and the sun's been up for a while, c'mon, you know the science, Alex!" she groaned at herself. But the tremble continued.

Strangely enough, her fear over the chance of infection meant that Alex didn't see the first signs. Running down her arms. The strength, hidden under a comfortable layer, began to cord up, and tense, and tremble...

And thicken.

Was it left behind after some raid? Alex wondered. I thought I saw leftover stuff in there. The shakes were hitting her bad now. Worse than anything in her life. She couldn't believe how bad the shaking was-- she thought she was braver than this!

In fact, she was. Though she didn't know it, the shaking wasn't the result of either some twisted drug high about to break through her, or from her own terror at the possibilities being jabbed by a discarded needle left.

The alcohol swab was unnecessary. The action of the dosage worked immediately, and even in most bodies, would have increased her immune system's strength and efficiency so greatly that it would have burnt out existing diseases of even the worst sort.

But she didn't know. She didn't even know when her forearms started to lose their curvy softness, and take on a harsh elegance. A bulky beauty.

A brawny beauty. The change happened in mere seconds. Deliberately. It had been designed to, a desperate attempt to render some victory from a very costly apparent failure.

Before the old woman living alone in the nearby home could even understand the frantic child's repeated requests to phone 911, Alex's muscle mass had already doubled. An ecstatic sensation accompanied it, and a good thing, too.

Because the scientists who created TransMass included some of the stretch-juice formula in a 'brilliant' attempt to reduce the pain of transformation. Her bones and skin were literally starting to stretch and extend, to push out.

Or rather, her skin is pushed out, smoothly and painlessly stretching, over an increasingly immense collection of powerful, fibrous muscle. Her bones rise to the task, thickening out like an elastic-powered hero, but then, layer after layer, the bones' own internal structure is changed. Internal structures ring and incorporate hyper-carbon nanotube composites, reinforced by their own potent mass and a direct Sym-Biological link to pour in preternatural energies.

Suddenly, right before Alex's eyes, the bleeding tear from the off-center palm jab... heals! "What th--" she eyelps, and then staggers backwards.

Her feet driving into the sand.

All throuhout Alex's body, the transformative agents developed by Darkweb scientists go to into overtime. In most people, this is when the failure starts-- a small burst of transformation that burns itself out, resulting in no more than an hour's worth of time turned into a tank-shredding giant or giantess. But in Alex's cells, a slightly different series of chamicals drive an unmapped extra pathway for cellular respiration. Part of how she was a thicc-bod at the same time as being a tough, fast lifeguard.

For her, that extra pathway interacted with the Sym-Biological link. Sustained it.

Enhanced it! By the time the child managed to get to a phone to call for help, Alex's muscle mass alone had increased *eightfold*, and then wrapped in upon itself. Becoming denser. Tighter. Stronger!

Roaring with delight and almost explosive energy. Her muscles bulge and expand until her thighs alone are bigger than the torsos of those bulk-obsessed guys with the sunglasses and delightfully (to Alex's mind) itty-bitty speedos. Her characteristic thicc-ness does not abandon her, however.

In her transformation to muscle-goddesshood, the powerful, running prominenences of her quads still manage an elongated, curvy frame form. It may be thicker than those dudes at the mid-thigh, but nothing is distorted or freakish, unlike usual users of VEIL or VILE's Hourhulk Juice. Instead of a creaking, squat and distended frame-- like the goliaths that had fought it out over a power-drug deal gone wrong just last night-- her vast musculature is well-developed, sculpted as though from stone.

Or battle-steel alloy! Stronger and stronger Alex grows, bigger and bigger; her simple, thin overcoat shredding away in moments. Her somewhat more rugged jean shorts become competitors for Daisy Duke's for Least Coverage Possible, and then, as she passes eight feet tall and still... growing... strong!

Riiiiip! goe her top, shredding itself down to a bikini Flinders and rags of her shorts go flying, leaving a denim bikini bottom.

And leaving her impossible, massive, super-amazonian physique bare. Towering up to the edge of the roof of the nearby house, it's not so much that Alex would put the beefiest bodybuilding himbo to shame...

It's that she'd send one her own height away crying, looking like a spindly little schoolboy. Vast legs like redwood treetrunks, pulsing with throbbing muscle hold her immensely ripped body up with ease-- the same ease with which she could kick in the side of a destroyer!

Alex feels her hair trace back along thick, elevated traps that look like rolling dunes smoothed in some martial artist's zen garden, over lats spreading and flaring high. Instinctively posing, she pumps herself up on her toes, and her newly engorged calves shove out like a pair of striated fists-- per leg!

Her already amazing quads and hamstrings take on the look of a rolling hill country, with the rivery lengths of cord-like muscles, like her bad girl sartorius muscles, swelling proudly between them. The shredded shield of her rugged abs lock into position. Even her intercostals bulk out as she flexes full-body!

Her pectoral muscles, perhaps sadly, are mostly invisible. It's something of a shame, too; did lifetimes of most super-strong metas go into just the development of fine, taut pecs, this is what they'd get. But the reason...

The extra-dimensional energy known as orgone has infused her body as a part of the transformation. Since she's female, it collects... and collects... and collects in her two heavy hanging hooters, bouncing and bobbling, nearly unclad in the all-but-shredded shirt-top. Only a bit of her muscularity is visible, right at the top-- but what perfection it is.

Arms so thick that they'd make a kodiak's legs look spindly crown Alex's body, save for her corded neck. Brawny, beefy, and just plain buff, long and chiseled into perfect development, they stretch out and out into two powerful, boulder-crushing hands.

WIth a happy sigh, she tilts her head to the left, making a ferocious grin. Her huge delts and powerful forearms pump out, squishing and squeezing and grinding against her massive biceps as they, too, surge freely. Her hands raise towards the sky and she groans again. "This... is MAGNIFICENT!"

The child and the emergency are forgotten. Off in the distance, she spies gargantuan humps of rock, rising from the beach amidst the trees. "Oh yeah," she rumbles, as her long legs begin to carry her in longer leaps. "I wanna see what I can lift!"