She have plans for him
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Carolyne lay sprawled on her back, chest rising and falling in slow, powerful rhythm. Sweat glistened along the deep separations of her abs, pooled in the hollows between pecs and delts. Miguel was curled against her side, head pillowed on the hard swell of her breast, one hand tracing lazy patterns over the thick vein that snaked down her bicep. His fingers trembled slightly—part exhaustion, part reverence.
She let him touch. Let him explore. Every glide of his palm across her granite quads, every hesitant press against the unyielding curve of her glute, sent small electric thrills through her. The nanobots drank it in, turning his awe into fuel for her already towering confidence.
“You feel that?” she murmured, voice low and smoky. She flexed her arm under his hand; the bicep rose into a perfect, split peak. “All this… it’s mine now. And I want you to have something like it.”
Miguel lifted his head, eyes hazy. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to be a bodybuilder, papi.” She turned toward him, curls spilling over one massive shoulder. “I need you big. Thick. Sexy. Veins popping when you flex for me. I want to see you grow. I want to watch you struggle under the bar the way you struggle under me.” Her lips curved. “Think about it. You and me, side by side, carved. Untouchable.”
He blinked, surprise flickering through the post-orgasm fog. Then—almost instantly—his pupils dilated. “You really want that?”
She leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tongue sliding against his with deliberate possession. When she pulled back, her dark eyes pinned him. “I don’t ask twice, Miguel. I tell. And you say yes.”
“Yes,” he breathed, no hesitation. “Fuck yes.”
She rewarded him with another kiss—harder this time, teeth grazing his lower lip. “Good boy.”
They lay quiet for a moment, her arm draped over him like a warm steel bar. His fingers kept wandering—down her abs, along the razor-cut obliques, back up to cup the underside of one firm, inflated breast.
“These new muscles of yours…” he whispered. “The way you lifted that frat guy today? The way you just… took what you wanted? It’s insane. Hot. Terrifying. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Carolyne laughed—low, throaty. “Terrifying is good. Keeps people in line.” She rolled half on top of him, thigh sliding between his legs, pressing just enough to remind him who controlled the rhythm. “You like the new me, don’t you? The bullying. The beatdowns. The way everyone flinches when I walk by.”
“God, yes.” His voice cracked. “You were always dangerous. Now you’re a fucking weapon.”
She grinned, predatory. The admiration hit like a drug—straight to her core, making her nipples tighten again. She felt the familiar heat coil low in her belly. “Keep talking like that and we’re going another round.”
Miguel swallowed hard, already half-hard against her thigh. “Your socials are blowing up. I saw the numbers before we… you know. Thousands of likes. People losing their minds over you.”
“Mmm.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand, unlocked it one-handed. The screen lit her sharpened features in blue. “Look at this.” She scrolled through the latest carousel—slow-motion most-muscular in the gym mirror, close-up of her quad sweep, a front lat spread that made her waist disappear between flaring lats. “They’re addicted. They want to worship. They want to hate. Either way, they can’t look away.”
Miguel watched her scroll, eyes wide. “Can we… post something together? Us? Just one pic. You and me.”
Her thumb froze. She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing. “No.”
He blinked. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not ready.” She set the phone down, cupped his jaw with one massive hand—gentle, but the strength behind it unmistakable. “You’re still soft. Cute. Mine, yes—but not *worthy* of standing next to this.” She flexed her free arm; the bicep rose like a cannonball. “When you’re big. When you’re shredded. When people see you and know you belong to me… then maybe I’ll let everyone know you’re my official boyfriend. Until then, you stay in the shadows. Earn it.”
Miguel’s breath hitched. Something shifted in his eyes—hunger, determination, an almost frantic need. “I’ll do it. I’ll start tomorrow. Heavy compounds. Meal prep. Everything.”
“Good.” She kissed his forehead, almost tenderly. “I’ll train you myself. Push you until you cry. Then I’ll fuck you until you forget your name.”
He groaned against her skin.
She lay back, letting him nuzzle closer. After a beat he spoke again, voice small. “There’s an amateur bodybuilding show next week. On campus. The fitness department puts it on every spring semester. Open divisions—men’s physique, women’s physique, bikini. Nothing pro-level, just students showing off.”
Carolyne’s eyes lit up. “A competition? Here?”
“Yeah. Registration’s still open. I saw the flyer in the rec center yesterday.”
She grabbed her phone again, fingers flying. A quick search pulled up the event page—Havenridge Amateur Classic 2026. Photos from last year: oiled bodies under stage lights, posed and gleaming. The women’s physique division caught her eye—athletic, muscular, feminine. Not freakish. Just… perfect.
Her pulse kicked. “I’m doing it.”
Miguel propped himself on an elbow. “You sure? It’s in seven days.”
“Seven days is plenty.” She scrolled through the rules, the categories. Women’s physique. Mandatory poses. One-piece suit. “But I need more. Bigger. Fuller. More feminine. These girls have rounder delts, tighter glutes, better V-tapers. I need to be undeniable.”
She flexed her abs absentmindedly; they crunched into vascular bricks. “I’ll win. Obviously. But I want them crying when they see me.”
Miguel watched her, already lost again. “You’ll destroy them.”
She was about to reply when her stomach let out a deep, violent rumble.
The sound echoed in the quiet room.
She froze, hand flying to her midsection. The hunger hit fast—sharp, clawing, the same insatiable void she’d felt before every growth spurt. Her abs tightened involuntarily, veins popping across the surface.
“Fuck,” she hissed. “Again.”
Miguel sat up. “You okay?”
She was already rolling out of bed, naked and gleaming, muscles shifting under taut skin with every movement. “Starving. The kind that hurts.”
She yanked open the mini-fridge—empty except for a half-drunk protein shake. She downed it in two gulps, grimacing at the thin taste.
“Order something,” she snapped, tossing the phone to Miguel. “Everything. Protein. Carbs. Fat. Now.”
He scrambled to obey, fingers already tapping the delivery app.
Carolyne stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, staring at her reflection in the closet mirror. The hunger was pain, yes—but also promise.
More fuel. More mass. More power.
She flexed—slow, deliberate—watching every fiber dance.
Seven days.
She’d be a monster by then.
Do she grow immediately?
She let him touch. Let him explore. Every glide of his palm across her granite quads, every hesitant press against the unyielding curve of her glute, sent small electric thrills through her. The nanobots drank it in, turning his awe into fuel for her already towering confidence.
“You feel that?” she murmured, voice low and smoky. She flexed her arm under his hand; the bicep rose into a perfect, split peak. “All this… it’s mine now. And I want you to have something like it.”
Miguel lifted his head, eyes hazy. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to be a bodybuilder, papi.” She turned toward him, curls spilling over one massive shoulder. “I need you big. Thick. Sexy. Veins popping when you flex for me. I want to see you grow. I want to watch you struggle under the bar the way you struggle under me.” Her lips curved. “Think about it. You and me, side by side, carved. Untouchable.”
He blinked, surprise flickering through the post-orgasm fog. Then—almost instantly—his pupils dilated. “You really want that?”
She leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tongue sliding against his with deliberate possession. When she pulled back, her dark eyes pinned him. “I don’t ask twice, Miguel. I tell. And you say yes.”
“Yes,” he breathed, no hesitation. “Fuck yes.”
She rewarded him with another kiss—harder this time, teeth grazing his lower lip. “Good boy.”
They lay quiet for a moment, her arm draped over him like a warm steel bar. His fingers kept wandering—down her abs, along the razor-cut obliques, back up to cup the underside of one firm, inflated breast.
“These new muscles of yours…” he whispered. “The way you lifted that frat guy today? The way you just… took what you wanted? It’s insane. Hot. Terrifying. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Carolyne laughed—low, throaty. “Terrifying is good. Keeps people in line.” She rolled half on top of him, thigh sliding between his legs, pressing just enough to remind him who controlled the rhythm. “You like the new me, don’t you? The bullying. The beatdowns. The way everyone flinches when I walk by.”
“God, yes.” His voice cracked. “You were always dangerous. Now you’re a fucking weapon.”
She grinned, predatory. The admiration hit like a drug—straight to her core, making her nipples tighten again. She felt the familiar heat coil low in her belly. “Keep talking like that and we’re going another round.”
Miguel swallowed hard, already half-hard against her thigh. “Your socials are blowing up. I saw the numbers before we… you know. Thousands of likes. People losing their minds over you.”
“Mmm.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand, unlocked it one-handed. The screen lit her sharpened features in blue. “Look at this.” She scrolled through the latest carousel—slow-motion most-muscular in the gym mirror, close-up of her quad sweep, a front lat spread that made her waist disappear between flaring lats. “They’re addicted. They want to worship. They want to hate. Either way, they can’t look away.”
Miguel watched her scroll, eyes wide. “Can we… post something together? Us? Just one pic. You and me.”
Her thumb froze. She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing. “No.”
He blinked. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not ready.” She set the phone down, cupped his jaw with one massive hand—gentle, but the strength behind it unmistakable. “You’re still soft. Cute. Mine, yes—but not *worthy* of standing next to this.” She flexed her free arm; the bicep rose like a cannonball. “When you’re big. When you’re shredded. When people see you and know you belong to me… then maybe I’ll let everyone know you’re my official boyfriend. Until then, you stay in the shadows. Earn it.”
Miguel’s breath hitched. Something shifted in his eyes—hunger, determination, an almost frantic need. “I’ll do it. I’ll start tomorrow. Heavy compounds. Meal prep. Everything.”
“Good.” She kissed his forehead, almost tenderly. “I’ll train you myself. Push you until you cry. Then I’ll fuck you until you forget your name.”
He groaned against her skin.
She lay back, letting him nuzzle closer. After a beat he spoke again, voice small. “There’s an amateur bodybuilding show next week. On campus. The fitness department puts it on every spring semester. Open divisions—men’s physique, women’s physique, bikini. Nothing pro-level, just students showing off.”
Carolyne’s eyes lit up. “A competition? Here?”
“Yeah. Registration’s still open. I saw the flyer in the rec center yesterday.”
She grabbed her phone again, fingers flying. A quick search pulled up the event page—Havenridge Amateur Classic 2026. Photos from last year: oiled bodies under stage lights, posed and gleaming. The women’s physique division caught her eye—athletic, muscular, feminine. Not freakish. Just… perfect.
Her pulse kicked. “I’m doing it.”
Miguel propped himself on an elbow. “You sure? It’s in seven days.”
“Seven days is plenty.” She scrolled through the rules, the categories. Women’s physique. Mandatory poses. One-piece suit. “But I need more. Bigger. Fuller. More feminine. These girls have rounder delts, tighter glutes, better V-tapers. I need to be undeniable.”
She flexed her abs absentmindedly; they crunched into vascular bricks. “I’ll win. Obviously. But I want them crying when they see me.”
Miguel watched her, already lost again. “You’ll destroy them.”
She was about to reply when her stomach let out a deep, violent rumble.
The sound echoed in the quiet room.
She froze, hand flying to her midsection. The hunger hit fast—sharp, clawing, the same insatiable void she’d felt before every growth spurt. Her abs tightened involuntarily, veins popping across the surface.
“Fuck,” she hissed. “Again.”
Miguel sat up. “You okay?”
She was already rolling out of bed, naked and gleaming, muscles shifting under taut skin with every movement. “Starving. The kind that hurts.”
She yanked open the mini-fridge—empty except for a half-drunk protein shake. She downed it in two gulps, grimacing at the thin taste.
“Order something,” she snapped, tossing the phone to Miguel. “Everything. Protein. Carbs. Fat. Now.”
He scrambled to obey, fingers already tapping the delivery app.
Carolyne stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, staring at her reflection in the closet mirror. The hunger was pain, yes—but also promise.
More fuel. More mass. More power.
She flexed—slow, deliberate—watching every fiber dance.
Seven days.
She’d be a monster by then.
Do she grow immediately?
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·
June 13
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