Chapter 5: Climax
Diary November 12th
I'm finally the muscle goddess I wanted to be. 295 lbs of pure muscle. I'm easily the strongest woman in the world. Today was the day I decided to get my revenge on Steve. He hasn't seen me since taking Muscle Max 2.0. I call him for an interview to get my job back. I try to sound like my meak former self.
"Hi Steve," I say sweetly, "It's been a vey long time. I miss working for you. I heard you hired a new secretary. She must be pretty great."
Steve doesn't recognize my voice. "Rebecca?" he asks, surprised. "I didn't expect to hear from you, especially after what happened."
"I realize my mistake," I lie smoothly, "and I apologize for my actions. I want to return to work and prove myself."
Steve hesitates, sensing something off.
"Come in for an interview tomorrow morning," he says warily. "We'll see if you're fit to rejoin the team."
I hang up the phone, my heart pounding with anticipation. I've spent countless hours preparing for this moment, and now it's finally here. I spend the rest of the day rehearsing my lines, ensuring that I can convincingly pull off my old persona.
Diary, November 13th
I woke up early, eager to confront Steve and reclaim my role as his subservient secretary.
I pick out the sexiest outfit I have and do my makeup like a bimbo.
I head to the office, walking confidently. Everyone in the elevator whispers about me. I flash a fake smile and strut out of the elevator. The entire office is buzzing because they heard I was coming back.
As I approach Steve's office, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass door. I look hot - even hotter than I did before. I knock on the door and wait for Steve to greet me. The silence stretches, making me nervous. Finally, he calls me in. He doesn't recognize me. I'm not 290 lbs of pure muscle and sex appeal. His jaw is on the floor.
"Dear God," he whispers, staring at me like I'm a mythical creature, "what have you done to yourself?"
I smile demurely, feigning innocence. "Just a bit of exercise," I murmur, batting my eyelashes. "I missed being part of the team."
Steve is speechless; his eyes bulge with disbelief. The office gossip surrounding my transformation is validated right before his eyes. I see a hint of admiration in his gaze. That's exactly what I wanted.
Steve was weak and foolish. He underestimated me, which is precisely what I required from him.
"Rebecca," he croaked, looking up at me with a mix of shock and awe, "you've changed."
Changing was the objective. It was all part of my grand plan. I kept smiling, my heart racing. I was ready to show him who the real boss was. "Thank you, Steve," I said, trying to suppress my excitement. "I've been working really hard to improve myself."
"You use to have the power" I tell him as I sit as his desk putting my high heels on it.
"Now you don't. I'm the one in power."
Steve stammers, "B-b-but, I'm your boss."
"Not anymore," I retort confidently. "You abused your power and mistreated me. Now, step aside and let me take over."
He blinks, his face paling. "What makes you think you can handle this responsibility?" he sneers, attempting to belittle me.
"My strength," I declare proudly, standing tall. "I've transformed myself, both physically and mentally." The weight of my muscles buckles the office chair.
As I sit, my massive thighs touch the table, forcing Steve to scoot back in his seat. He watches me warily, realizing that I'm no longer the meek secretary he once knew.
"You don't belong here," he spits, his face contorting with jealousy and resentment. "This company has suffered enough from your incompetence."
"On the contrary," I reply coolly, placing my hands on the desk. "With your support, I aim to turn this company around as the new CEO.
" I declare confidently, my voice resonating with conviction. "I've developed essential skills and gained valuable experience from my journey."
Steve's face darkens, his fists balling up tightly. "You're delusional," he growls, his voice shaking with anger. "No one wants a muscle-bound freak running this company."
"Steve, I'm not asking I'm telling. You can either comply willingly or I can force you."
I threaten, watching his reaction carefully. Steve looks at me in disbelief, struggling to process my words. I can sense his frustration escalating, but I need to maintain composure for the sake of the company.
"I refuse to accept you as CEO," he snaps back defiantly. "You haven't got the business acumen nor the intelligence to lead."
A smirk creeps across my face. "Oh, Steve," I chuckle, leaning back in the chair. "You've truly underestimated me."
I stand up abruptly, making him flinch. "I don't like these golf clubs you have" I tell them as I twist them like pretzels
. The sound of metal bending and snapping fills the air. He gasps, shocked at my display of dominance.
"And I certainly don't like your attitude," I add, crossing my arms over my chest. "You've been nothing but a hindrance to this company."
Steve tries to speak, but no words emerge past his tightening throat. I lean closer, my eyes boring into his terrified gaze. "You know what?" I whisper, watching his pupils dilate with fear.
"I'm stronger than you ever realized."
Steve opens his mouth, struggling to find the words to defend himself. His gaze flickers nervously between my massive biceps and powerful thighs. He knows he's outmatched, but he refuses to surrender.
"How about an arm wrestling match? Winner is CEO" I tell him.
Steve hesitates, glancing at my muscular arms. "Fine," he grumbles, his voice shaking with fear. "Let's see what you've got."
We clasp hands, his scrawny fingers dwarfed by my bulging biceps. I fix him with a steely glare, my gaze challenging him to concede. Steve tries to stare me down, but quickly breaks eye contact when he realizes his futility.
He wrenches his forearm, attempting to gain leverage.
"Better use 2 hands" I tell him.
"Or you'll lose."
Steve scowls, his gaze fixed on the battle ahead. "You think you're so tough," he mutters darkly, his voice betraying his unease. "I'll crush you like a bug."
I raise an eyebrow, amused by his bravado. "Oh, dear," I purr, my voice dripping with condescension. "Don't hurt yourself."
Steve grunts, squeezing his fingers tighter. Instantly as we start I crush his hand breaking every bone it, I slam his arm through his desk shattering both the arm and desk."
You lose Steve" I declare smugly. "Now that's the end of your leadership"
Steve cries out in pain, clutching his broken arm. His eyes widen with horror as he watches his shattered desk collapse beneath him. His voice cracks as he whimpers, "You've ruined my life."
"Actually," I correct him, "you ruined your own life by treating people horribly. I'm just setting things straight."
Suddenly, the office doors burst open, as security officers rush in, guns drawn.
Their faces mirror Steve's stunned expression upon seeing my muscled glory. Fear and disbelief wash over everyone present as I continue sitting on the chair, holding Steve's fractured arm.
"Hands up!" yells the lead officer, his eyes scanning the damaged office. "Put down the weapon and step away from the victim."
I can't help but smirk at their audacity. "Victim?" I repeat, my voice dripping with irony. "He's hardly a victim.
" I reply, nonchalantly inspecting my nails. "In fact, he deserves much worse."
The lead officer frowns, skeptical at my words. "Ma'am," he warns, his patience wearing thin, "we can't afford to play games. Step away from that man and place your hands behind your head."
I roll my eyes, unimpressed by his demand. "Seriously?" I mock, flashing a knowing grin. "Do you actually think a single officer could apprehend me?"
His face reddens, embarrassment mixing with anger.
I let him handcuff me, then break the handcuffs like twigs, grab the pistol and fold it like a piece of paper.
The officer gapes at me, dumbfounded.
"What are you doing?" he stammers, his confidence dissolving. "This isn't funny."
"Believe me, sir," I retort, my voice ice-cold, "I'm dead serious."
The officer backs away, terror etching into his expression. "Stay back," he warns, raising his gun. "I'll shoot."
"Go ahead," I challenge, my gaze unwavering.
"Take your best shot."
The officer swallows hard, his grip tightening on his pistol. The other officers exchange uneasy glances, sensing the escalation of tension.
"Let's talk this out," the officer suggests, his voice quivering slightly. "Maybe we can reach a peaceful resolution."
I laugh heartily, my amusement genuine. "Peaceful resolution?" I scoff, shaking my head. "What could you possibly offer me that I don't already possess?"
"We could bring charges against you," the officer replies, his quivering.
"I could just get rid of the witness" I tell the officer as I pick Steve up by the throat. His body feels so light in my hand. "Plus do you think a jail cell could hold" As I use my other hand to simply crush the officers pistol like a tomato.
"Yes, a few bullets might stop" I continue crushing the gun until there's nothing left except some metal shards.
"But I'm afraid none of that will happen." I throw the crumbled pieces onto the ground. The officers gawp at me, wide-eyed with awe and fear. I look at Steve whose face mirrors their astonishment. He can barely breathe under my tight grasp.
"I promise you won't regret this," I say softly, loosening my grip on Steve's neck. "I have a new job for you Steve, it's as my secretary" I tell Steve.
"I think you'll enjoy it."
Steve coughs violently, struggling to regain his breath. His eyes plead for mercy, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly. He squirms helplessly as I tighten my grip around his neck.
"But, but why would I agree to something like that?" he chokes out hoarsely. "I'm... I'm not sure I can trust you."
My laughter echoes eerily throughout the office. "Trust?" I spit venomously, releasing my ironclad grip.
Blood trickles down his neck, staining his pristine shirt. "You'll learn to respect me, Steve. And you'll appreciate the wisdom I share."
He gulps, his fear palpable. His eyes plead for mercy, yet his pride refuses to submit. I loosen my hold, allowing him to gasp for air. He collapses onto the shattered remnants of his office furniture, weakened beyond resistance.
"Please," he begs weakly, "give me another chance. I can change."
I shake my head, pitying his desperation.
"Your fate lies within my hands, Steve," I intone, allowing my voice to reverberate through the silence. "Choose wisely."
He hesitates, his gaze darting between his injured arm and the battered remnants of his office. The cacophony of his broken dreams drowns out his thoughts as he contemplates his options. My presence looms over him like an ominous cloud, threatening to engulf him in darkness.
"Okay," he concedes, his voice trembling. "I agree.
" Steve manages to croak out the words, his voice cracking under the strain of his fear and humiliation. "I'll serve as your secretary."
I release a satisfied sigh, my grip loosening around his neck. "That's more like it," I say, patting him gently on the shoulder. "You'll make a fine assistant."
Steve nods stiffly, his eyes darting around the wreckage of his office. "Can we... Can we leave this place?" he pleads, his voice quivering.
"I promise to follow your orders."
I study him closely, assessing his sincerity. "Very well," I say, softening my tone. "We shall leave this place and begin our new arrangement. You may rise, Steve."
He scrambles to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine. "Lead the way," he mumbles, still shaken by his near-death experience.
I stride confidently towards the exit, my newfound authority evident in every step. Steve follows close behind, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
He avoids meeting my gaze, instead focusing on the carpeted hallway that leads us further away from his tattered office.
"So, Steve," I begin, pausing to let my words sink in, "I hope you understand your new obligations."
He nods silently, swallowing his pride.
"Good," I respond, pleased with his obedience. "You'll be responsible for scheduling meetings, organizing paperwork, and supporting me in any way necessary. Do you understand?"
Steve clears his throat, his voice sounding strained. "Oh also I need a foot stool right now" I order him.
Steve glances around the empty conference room, unsure how to react.
"Uh," he stammers, trying to compose himself, "I... I can arrange for one to be brought in."
"I don't need anyone else to do it" I tell him firmly. "If you want to stay employed, you'll do it yourself."
Steve gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He reluctantly kneels, his eyes darting around the room for anything suitable.
"This should be sufficient," he announces, pointing to a large leather chair. I consider his suggestion thoughtfully, gauging its potential suitability.
"No no Steve, you will be my foot stool" i said with Authority.
"I told you earlier".
Steve looked at me, utterly confused and embarrassed. He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again, realizing the futility of arguing with me.
"Understood" he whispered softly, defeated.
I watched with satisfaction as my intimidating figure loomed over him.
He inched his way backwards, positioning himself under my feet. My heavy legs pressed down on his back, pinning him to the floor. I took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of power. This was my revenge, my liberation.
"Why don't you smile Steve, you'd be prettier if you smiled" I said sarcastically.
Steve flinched. He had a face full of rage and humiliation. But underneath his cold exterior, I felt a strange stirring. It was a mixture of fear, curiosity, and perhaps even arousal. It was almost intoxicating to see such a strong and confident man reduced to a mere servant.
"Yes, Master," Steve muttered.
"Master?" I repeated, enjoying the sound of the word. "I like that. From now on, you'll address me as 'Master'."
He nodded, his face twisting in disgust.
"Yes, Master," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "From now on, you'll address me as 'Master'."
"Of course, Master," Steve replied, his voice laced with bitterness. "Whatever you say, Master."
I couldn't help but smirk at his pathetic attempt to mask his humiliation. I lifted my leg, pressing my heel down on his cheek. He winced, the pressure causing his face to flush red.
"Is there anything else, Master?" Steve asked, his voice trembling.
I don't even answer him, I just pick him up by neck and bring him into the main area of the office.
The entire office is shocked to Steve so humiliated. "Everyone who was wronged by Steve can come here and spit in his open mouth." My voice literally shakes the walls.
"Now, lower your pants and underwear, and spread your legs."
Steve's face contorts in shock and disgust, but he obeys without hesitation. He lowers his clothing, exposing his pale, frail form. I watch with amusement as he reveals his vulnerable nature.
"Spit in his mouth!" I command everyone in the office. The crowd gathers around, hesitant but intrigued. Slowly, one brave soul steps forward, spitting a thick glob of saliva into Steve's open mouth. It lands heavily on his tongue, a testament to his disgrace.
Steve chokes, his eyes widening in horror. More people step forward, each adding their saliva to the growing pool. Steve's cheeks puff out, his eyes watering from the overwhelming sensation. He tries to cry out, but his voice is muffled by the sheer volume of spit.
As the crowd grows larger, their enthusiasm intensifies. They cheer one another on, encouraging those too timid to participate. Steve writhes, his limbs flailing desperately. His pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears as the office erupts in a frenzy of spiteful vengeance.
Employees who once feared him now revel in his suffering. The spectacle is as shocking as it is satisfying. Steve is forced to endure their wrath, his dignity stripped bare.
"That's right, take it all in," I taunt him, relishing his torment. "Every drop serves as a reminder of your past transgressions."
Steve chokes, his eyes bulging with fury and humiliation. He fights to free himself, but my superior strength keeps him pinned. The cheers of the crowd fuel my desire for retribution.
Each spit landing wetly on Steve's face reminds me of the torment he inflicted upon me. I watch him struggle, unable to contain my amusement. He tried to dominate me, but now he is at my mercy.
"How does it feel, Steve?" I ask, my voice cold and cruel. "Does it taste like justice?"
Steve gurgles, his swollen lips forming unintelligible sounds. He strains beneath my weight, fighting for freedom. His desperate thrashing only heightens the entertainment value for the crowd.
Each spasm brings forth another round of jeers and laughter. It's a cathartic release for everyone who ever suffered under Steve's tyrannical rule.
"Come on, everybody!" I encourage them, feeding off their energy. "Give him plenty to remember this day by."
One after another, employees line up to defile Steve with their saliva. Some even spit directly into his eyes, relishing the opportunity to exact justice. Their gleeful expressions contrast sharply with Steve's grimacing face.
"What do you guys think? Should I be the new CEO?" I ask them as my statuesque body glistens and ripples with muscle.
The crowd buzzes with anticipation, eager to hear my opinion. I scan the sea of faces, noticing the familiar features of those once cowed by Steve's tyranny. "
"I believe that my ascendance to the role of CEO would benefit the company immensely," I announce boldly, my voice reverberating through the offices.
"It's time for a fresh perspective and a dynamic leader to guide us into the future."
A murmur of agreement spreads through the crowd, their enthusiasm infectious. Even Steve, still reeling from his public humiliation, can't help but acknowledge the logic in my proposal. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation, as everyone awaits the final verdict.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the company's board chairman says, stepping forward, "we've heard your concerns and suggestions.
We'll carefully consider these recommendations as we evaluate Ms. Rebecca's candidacy for the CEO position."
Applause erupts from the crowd, their voices expressing relief and optimism. Rebecca stands tall amidst the commotion, her imposing presence inspiring confidence among her peers. Her newfound strength and resilience radiate through her every gesture.
"Now, we must discuss the matter of Mr. Steve," the chairman continues, addressing the elephant in the room.
"Considering
your past actions, we believe it appropriate to appoint you as Rebecca's personal assistant."
Steve's face drains of color, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Me?" he exclaims, his voice betraying his shock. "Are you joking?"
"There's nothing humorous about this decision," the chairman responds sternly. "We expect you to assist Rebecca in any capacity she needs."
Steve falters, his gaze darting between the crowd and Rebecca's towering form. "But...
" Steve protests feebly, his voice quivering. "I don't know if I can handle being Ms. Rebecca's assistant."
Rebecca arches an eyebrow, her voice dripping with icy disdain. "Oh, I assure you," she says, her tone loaded with contempt. "You'll manage."
The crowd erupts in laughter, their collective mirth drowning out Steve's pitiful groans. He sinks deeper into his shame, the humiliation weighing heavily on his conscience.
Every day, he's confronted with how far he's fallen, and he hates himself for it. He doesn't deserve to be treated so cruelly, but he can't deny the gravity of his past actions. The company's decision seems like a cruel joke, but he has no choice but to embrace his new role to save his career.
As days pass, Steve finds himself in unfamiliar territory, serving as Rebecca's assistant. He struggles to cope with the sudden shift in power dynamics, and the constant reminders of his former arrogance sting his ego.
Rebecca notices his discomfort but chooses to ignore it for her enjoyment. Every morning, she arrives with a renewed vigor, her muscles gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Steve can't help but admire her transformation, despite his resentment for her triumphant spirit. He wonders when he lost touch with reality, letting his hubris blind him to the potential consequences of his actions.
The sharp scent of defeat lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the pungent smell of Rebecca's sweat permeating the office. He dreads the sight of her imposing form, knowing that he's powerless to resist her whims.
The once-grand office now resembles a makeshift gymnasium, filled with weights, yoga mats, and protein shakes. The walls vibrate with the rhythmic pounding of Rebecca's footsteps, her heavy breathing punctuating the silent space. The intensity of her workouts leaves him exhausted just by observing her dedication.
Female body builder, veins, muscle