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[Story] Muscles and Modesty pt. 3
🕑 Added 2024-08-23 20:56:21 +0000 UTCHi Hi ✨
This one took me a while to write, but I was dry with ideas for act 3. This will be a 4 act story, so this connecting act was always going to be tricky. Hope you like it though, I also included images of both Amira and Fatima!
Let me know if there's something in particular you want to see in part 4 (and last one) of this wild story!
📦 Grab the full res images from the attachment section of this post. ⬇️
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Muscles and Modesty pt. 3
Fmg-35 universe, 2035
A frantic knocking at the door jolted Amira from her thoughts. She'd been lost in contemplation, still processing the whirlwind of emotions from Fatima's earlier visit.
"Amira! Amira, please, I need your help!" Fatima's voice, tinged with panic, carried through the wood.
Amira's heart raced as she approached the door. She hesitated for a moment before opening it, her massive frame filling the entire doorway.
Fatima stood there, eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder. "It's happening to me too," she whispered, holding out her arms. The sleeves of her abaya were noticeably tighter, the fabric straining against newly formed muscle.
"Oh, Fatima," Amira breathed, ushering her friend inside quickly. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
Once inside, Fatima sank onto the couch, which creaked under her already increasing weight. "Don't apologise," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not upset, I'm just... scared. And excited. And confused. Amira, what do I do?"
Amira sat down beside her friend, the couch groaning in protest. "First, we breathe. Then, we figure this out together."
Just then, the sound of a car pulling up made both women freeze. "Rashid," Amira murmured. "He's home early."
The front door opened, and Rashid's voice called out, "Amira? Are you there, habibi?"
"In here," Amira replied, her voice trembling slightly.
Rashid entered the living room, stopping short at the sight of Fatima. His eyes darted between the two women, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah," he said simply, his expression unreadable.
"Rashid," Amira began, "I can explain-"
He held up a hand, cutting her off. "No need, habibi. I think I can guess what's happened." He turned to Fatima, his voice gentle. "How are you feeling?"
Fatima managed a weak smile. "Like I'm about to burst out of my skin, to be honest."
Rashid nodded, then surprised both women by chuckling softly. "Well, it seems our little family secret is growing. Quite literally."
Amira felt a wave of relief wash over her. "You're not angry?"
"Angry? No," Rashid said, moving to sit in the armchair across from them. "Concerned? Yes. But we've been through this once already. We'll manage again."
Fatima looked between Amira and Rashid, tears welling in her eyes. "You'll help me? Even though I'm not family?"
"Of course we will," Amira said firmly, placing a comforting hand on Fatima's shoulder. She turned to Rashid. "Right, habibi?"
Rashid nodded, his expression serious but kind. "Fatima, you've been our neighbor and friend for years. We won't abandon you now."
"Thank you," Fatima whispered, wiping her eyes. "I don't know what I would have done without you both."
Amira squeezed Fatima's shoulder gently, marveling at how she could already feel the muscle beneath beginning to swell. "We'll get through this together. I'll teach you everything I've learned."
Rashid stood up, his mind clearly already working on practical matters. "We'll need to be careful. Two of you will be harder to hide. But we'll manage." He paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I suppose I should start looking for an even bigger couch."
Despite the gravity of the situation, all three found themselves laughing. As the laughter subsided, Amira felt a newfound sense of purpose. She may not have chosen this transformation, but she could choose to help her friend navigate it.
"Alright, Fatima," Amira said, standing up and extending her hand. "Let's start with the basics. First lesson: controlling your strength."
As Fatima took Amira's hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet with ease, Rashid watched with a mixture of concern and pride. Their lives were about to become even more complicated, but they would face it as a family - a family that now included Fatima.
The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity and adjustment. Amira threw herself into the role of mentor, guiding Fatima through the early stages of her transformation with a mixture of practical advice and emotional support.
"Remember," Amira said one afternoon as they stood in her bedroom, "it's not just about the physical changes. It's about adapting your mindset too."
Fatima nodded, flexing her arm and watching in awe as her bicep swelled to nearly twice its original size. "It's just so... strange. I feel like I'm in someone else's body."
Amira smiled sympathetically. "I know exactly how you feel. But trust me, it gets easier. Now, let's work on your grip strength. We don't want you accidentally crushing everything you touch."
As the women worked together, Rashid took on the task of making the necessary arrangements to accommodate their growing secret. He discreetly ordered larger furniture, researched ways to reinforce the floors, and even began soundproofing certain rooms to muffle the sound of Fatima's increasingly heavy footsteps.
One evening, as Rashid was installing new, higher doorknobs, Nasir approached him, curiosity shining in his eyes.
"Baba," he asked, "why is Aunt Fatima here so much lately? And why does she look... different?"
Rashid paused, considering his words carefully. "Nasir, my son, sometimes we are tested in unexpected ways. Aunt Fatima is going through some changes, like your mother did. We're helping her because that's what good people do - we support our friends and neighbours."
Nasir's eyes widened with understanding. "Is she going to be as big and strong as Mama?"
"Perhaps," Rashid replied, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "But remember, it's not the size of a person that matters, but the size of their heart."
Meanwhile, Malik remained distant, spending more time out of the house or locked away in his room. Amira couldn't help but notice the way he averted his eyes whenever she or Fatima entered a room.
One day, unable to bear the tension any longer, Amira cornered Malik in the kitchen. "Malik, my son, please talk to me. What's troubling you?"
Malik sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's just... everything's changing, Mama. You, now Aunt Fatima... I feel like I don't recognize my own family anymore."
Amira's heart ached at her son's words. Carefully, she placed a hand on his shoulder, mindful of her strength. "Oh, Malik. I know this is hard. But we're still the same people inside. My love for you, for our family, that hasn't changed one bit."
Malik looked up at her, conflict clear in his eyes. "I know, Mama. I'm trying to understand, I really am. It's just... it's a lot."
Amira nodded, fighting back tears. "It is a lot. But we'll get through it together, inch'allah. All I ask is that you try to keep an open mind and an open heart."
As the days turned into weeks, Fatima's transformation continued at a rapid pace. Amira found herself constantly amazed at how quickly her friend was adapting, both physically and mentally.
"You're a natural," Amira laughed one day as Fatima successfully threading a needle - a task that had taken Amira weeks to master with her new, larger fingers.
Fatima grinned, flexing her arm playfully. "What can I say? I have a good teacher."
Their laughter was interrupted by a knock at the door. Both women tensed, exchanging worried glances. Unexpected visitors were now a source of constant anxiety.
"I'll get it," Amira said, moving towards the door with a grace that belied her enormous size. She opened it cautiously, ready to use her bulk to block the view inside if necessary.
To her relief, it was only Dr. Faisal. The doctor's eyes widened as he took in Amira's now-familiar form, then darted past her to where Fatima stood.
"Ah," he said simply, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I see our little support group has grown."
Amira ushered him in quickly, closing the door behind him. "Dr. Faisal, I can explain-"
The doctor held up a hand, chuckling softly. "No need, my dear. I suspected this might happen when Rashid told me about your... encounter." He turned to Fatima, his expression turning professional. "Now then, shall we see how you're progressing?"
As Dr. Faisal examined Fatima, taking measurements and notes, Amira couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the challenges, despite the fear and uncertainty, they were managing. They were adapting.
Later that night, as Amira lay in bed next to Rashid, she found herself reflecting on how much had changed in such a short time.
"What are you thinking about, habibi?" Rashid asked softly, sensing her restlessness.
Amira turned to face him, marveling as always at how small he looked next to her now. "I was just thinking... about how grateful I am. For you, for our family, for Fatima. For how we're all facing this together."
Rashid smiled, reaching out to caress her cheek. "We are blessed, aren't we? Despite everything, Allah has given us strength - in more ways than one."
As Amira drifted off to sleep, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. Whatever challenges tomorrow might bring, they would face them together - as a family, as friends, as a community. And that, she realized, was a kind of strength that no virus could ever take away.
As the days passed, the family dynamics shifted to accommodate not just one, but two Amazons in their midst. Rashid found himself constantly mediating between his sons' contrasting reactions to the situation.
Meanwhile, Fatima's transformation continued, though at a slightly slower pace than Amira's had. Dr. Faisal visited regularly to monitor her progress, each time marvelling at the changes.
"Fascinating," he muttered one day, measuring Fatima's bicep. 1 week in, and you're already at... 30 inches. Extraordinary."
Fatima flexed experimentally, watching the muscle swell. "It feels so strange. Like my body isn't my own sometimes."
Amira nodded sympathetically. "I remember that feeling. It does get easier, I promise."
As the weeks progressed, Fatima's growth became more noticeable. Her height increased steadily, inch by inch, until she stood at an impressive 7'6" - still shorter than Amira's 8'2", but towering over everyone else.
Her body filled out proportionally, muscles swelling and defining themselves with each passing day. Her chest expanded to 85 inches, her waist remaining a relatively trim 56 inches, while her hips flared out to 78 inches. Her thighs, once slender, now measured a staggering 78 inches around.
One morning, about two months into her transformation, Fatima gasped as she looked in the mirror. "Amira! Look at this!"
Amira hurried over, her footsteps causing the floor to tremble slightly. "What is it?"
Fatima turned sideways, running a hand over her abdomen. "I have abs! Actual, visible abs!"
Indeed, Fatima's stomach now sported a clearly defined six-pack, each muscle standing out in sharp relief. Amira couldn't help but grin, remembering her own excitement at similar milestones.
"Welcome to the club," she laughed, flexing her own abs - now an eight-pack - in solidarity.
As Fatima's growth began to slow, finally stabilising at 7'8" and 630 lbs, the family found a new rhythm. Rashid worked tirelessly to ensure their home could accommodate both women, reinforcing furniture and raising doorframes.
Nasir took to following Amira and Fatima around like a puppy, peppering them with questions and begging for demonstrations of their strength. Malik, while still uncomfortable, began to thaw slightly, occasionally joining in family discussions about their new reality.
One evening, as they all sat around the dinner table - Amira and Fatima on reinforced chairs that creaked under their weight - Rashid cleared his throat.
"I know these past months have been... challenging," he began, looking around at his family. "But I want you all to know how proud I am. Of how we've come together, of how we've adapted."
Amira reached out, gently squeezing Rashid's hand. "We couldn't have done it without you, habibi."
Fatima nodded in agreement. "You've all been so welcoming, so understanding. I don't know what I would have done without you."
Even Malik managed a small smile. "It's been weird," he admitted. "But... I guess it's kind of cool too. In a way."
As they continued their meal, the conversation flowing more easily than it had in weeks, Amira felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with her enhanced metabolism. They were making it work, against all odds. They were still a family - just a little bigger, a little stronger, and a whole lot more extraordinary.
---
As the dust settled on Fatima's transformation, the two women found themselves standing before the full-length mirror in Amira's bedroom, marveling at their reflections. The contrast between them and their former selves was staggering.
"I still can't believe it," Fatima murmured, running a hand along her newly sculpted arm.
Amira nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Let's compare, shall we? For old times' sake."
They stood side by side, their massive frames dwarfing the mirror. Amira still held the edge in height, her 8'2" towering over Fatima's 7'8". The difference was noticeable, but not as dramatic as one might expect given their superhuman statures.
"Turn to the side," Amira instructed, and they both did so.
The differences in their physiques became more apparent. Amira's legs were noticeably thicker. The muscle definition in Amira's calves was more pronounced, each fiber visible beneath her skin.
Fatima whistled low. "Your legs are incredible, Amira. Like tree trunks!"
Amira laughed, flexing her quadriceps. The movement caused ripples of muscle to dance under her skin. "Yes, but look at your arms. I think you might have me beat there."
It was true. While Amira's biceps were impressive at 40 inches, Fatima's had grown to a shocking 42 inches. When she flexed, the peak rose higher than Amira's, though perhaps not quite as wide.
"It's strange," Fatima mused, turning to face Amira. "We're so different from how we used to be, but in some ways, I feel more like myself than ever."
Amira nodded in understanding. "I know exactly what you mean."
As they stood there, two titans of femininity, the reality of their situation seemed to settle over them anew. They were extraordinary, yes, but also isolated. The world outside their home was becoming increasingly hostile to women like them.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted their reverie. Rashid's voice came through, tight with tension. "Amira, Fatima, you need to come downstairs. Now."
The women exchanged worried glances before hurrying down, their combined weight causing the stairs to groan in protest. In the living room, they found Rashid staring at the television, his face pale.
On the screen, a news anchor was speaking urgently. "...reports of increased Amazon sightings have led to a government crackdown. Officials are urging citizens to report any suspected cases of the transformation virus..."
Fatima gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh no..."
Amira felt a chill run down her spine. "What are we going to do?"
Rashid turned to them, his expression grave. "We need to be more careful than ever. No more trips outside, not even at night. We can't risk anyone seeing you."
The following days were tense. Amira and Fatima remained indoors, peeking out through curtains and jumping at every unexpected sound. The boys were instructed to be extra vigilant, to report anything suspicious immediately.
One afternoon, as Amira was helping Nasir with his homework, a commotion outside caught their attention. Peering cautiously through the window, they saw a group of officials going door to door, clipboards in hand.
"They're testing people," Amira whispered, her heart racing. "Rashid! They're coming!"
Rashid appeared at her side, his face set in determination. "Okay, everyone stay calm. Amira, Fatima, go to the basement. Boys, act natural."
As the women hurried to hide, the doorbell rang. Rashid took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, and went to answer it.
Amira and Fatima huddled in the basement, straining their enhanced hearing to catch snippets of the conversation above. They could hear Rashid's calm voice, the official's questions, Malik's surly responses, and Nasir's nervous chatter.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Finally, they heard the front door close and Rashid's footsteps approaching the basement.
"It's okay," he called out. "They're gone. We're safe for now."
As they emerged from their hiding place, the reality of their situation hit home. How long could they keep this up? How long before someone discovered their secret?
That night, after the boys had gone to bed, Amira, Fatima, and Rashid sat in the living room, the weight of their predicament hanging heavy in the air.
"We can't live like this forever," Fatima said softly. "Always hiding, always afraid."
Amira nodded in agreement. "But what choice do we have? You've seen the news. They're hunting women like us."
Rashid was quiet for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "Perhaps..." he began hesitantly, "perhaps it's time we considered leaving. Finding somewhere safer."
The suggestion hung in the air, both terrifying and tempting. Leave their home? Their community? It seemed unthinkable, and yet...
Before they could discuss further, a soft thud from the front porch caught their attention. Rashid went to investigate, returning moments later with a small envelope in hand.
"It's... it's from Karima," he said, his voice filled with disbelief.
Amira's eyes widened. "Karima? But how?"
With trembling hands, Rashid opened the letter and began to read aloud. "My dear friends, I hope this finds you well and safe. I know you must have worried about me, but I am alive and free. There is so much I need to tell you, so much you need to know. We are not alone. There are others like us, organized and fighting back. If you're willing to take the risk, we can offer you sanctuary and purpose. The choice is yours, but know this: a new world is coming, whether the old one likes it or not. With love and hope, Karima."
As Rashid finished reading, a heavy silence fell over the room. Amira and Fatima exchanged glances, a mix of fear and excitement in their eyes. Rashid looked between them, his expression unreadable.
The letter from Karima had changed everything. They now stood at a crossroads, facing a decision that would alter the course of their lives forever. Stay and hide, or risk everything for the promise of freedom and community?
As the night wore on, the weight of the choice before them settled heavily on their shoulders. Whatever they decided, one thing was clear: their lives would never be the same again.
![[Story] Muscles and Modesty pt. 3](https://img5.patrefans.com/storage/12/ud/ow/563145-019e8f8c-0558-7348-bcde-68fff962a301.png)
![[Story] Muscles and Modesty pt. 3](https://img5.patrefans.com/storage/12/sy/uq/563145-019e8f8c-0560-7029-a4f5-a1861ea38d27.png)
