New look idea
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 11
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika smirk, Cherri's mouthful was the perfect way out of this strange situation. She had no intention of telling them about the formula, at least not until Odette finished developing the weak version, she planned to give them the formula, to make sure they would continue to serve her for many years to come. Cherri's suggestion momentarily changed the subject from her transformation and Verosika clung to it tightly. The girls liked the idea, they already saw the possibilities of the new look. Verosika doesn't let them rest for a moment and starts assigning tasks to them, it is necessary to purchase an isolated compound where she can hide and create the impression that it is there that she developed her new body. It is necessary to spread rumors that will explain why she suddenly disappeared. She sends the girls to work on it, not giving them time to think.
The four women filed out of the bedroom in a daze, leaving Verosika alone with Loona and Niffty. The air still thrummed with the weight of her presence—muscles coiling under golden skin, every breath a flex of raw power. She turned to Loona, pink eyes gleaming with command. "Mutt. Bring Odette here. Discreetly. Tell the front desk she's my personal doctor—emergency consult. And spread the word: overdose. Too much fun after the show. That'll buy us time for my little… disappearance."
Loona nodded once, stoic as ever, and strode out without a word, her massive frame still trembling faintly from earlier exertions.
Niffty hovered nearby, eyes wide as saucers, but Verosika waved her off. "Wine. More. Now."
"H-Hai, Miss Mayday-sama!" Niffty bowed low and scampered away, kimono fluttering.
Alone at last, Verosika sauntered back to the full-length mirror, hips swaying with exaggerated sensuality, glutes popping with each step like sculpted marble in motion. She stopped, planted her feet, and flexed—biceps ballooning into peaks that strained the robe's remnants, abs rippling like a washboard under taut bronze skin. A smug grin spread across her perfect face. This wasn't what she'd bargained for with Odette's serum—just eternal youth and beauty—but oh, the bonus. Power incarnate. She'd always craved dominance, but this body screamed it: muscular yet utterly feminine, dangerous curves wrapped in steel. No masculinity here—just amplified haughtiness, smug superiority etched into every vein and fiber.
She flexed her abs harder, watching the eight-pack deepen, shadows playing over the golden-orange glow. A shiver ran through her—a faint, orgasmic tingle that made her gasp. Horny from her own reflection? Maybe. But then her bicep caught her eye: skin stretching tighter, veins surging like rivers under pressure, pulsing with new life. Confusion flickered—brief, dismissed. Power was power.
Niffty returned, bowing submissively with a fresh glass of crimson wine on a tray. "Here, Miss! Fresh and cold!"
Verosika smiled smugly, reveling in the maid's deference—the way Niffty's eyes darted, half in awe, half in fear. She reached out, long feminine fingers curling around the glass's base—and it shattered. Crystal exploded in her grip, shards tinkling to the floor, wine splashing her robe.
"What the—?" Verosika stepped back, surprised, and braced her palm on the nearby dresser for balance. Wood groaned, splintered, and collapsed under her hand like balsa.
She stared at her palm, then flexed her bicep again—watching it swell impossibly. "I don't just look strong…"
Curiosity ignited. She crossed to a heavy wooden cabinet—solid oak, loaded with clothes and trinkets, easily 400 pounds. Squatting low, she gripped the base and lifted. Muscles burned with effort, but it rose—off the floor, steady in her hands. Niffty gasped. "Miss Mayday-sama… super strength! Like a hero!"
Verosika laughed—low, wicked—as she set it down. "Hero? Darling, think bigger." Megalomania swelled like a tide; visions flashed: her as a supervillain, crushing rivals, ruling from shadows.
She needed more. Dropping the cabinet, she strode to the suite's private gym— a room she'd never touched, always Loona's domain for maintaining her bulk. Niffty trailed like a puppy.
Verosika eyed the weights. She started simple: a barbell loaded to 500 pounds. Gripped it, deadlifted—easy. Added more: 800, 1000. Grunted through 1200—three times the Olympic record for men. She giggled childishly, mania bubbling. "Watch this." She balanced a 100-pound plate between her rock-hard breasts, squeezed—metal groaned, bent, crushed into a mangled disc. "Oops." She juggled three 45-pound plates like toys, then slammed them down, cracking the floor. Bent a steel bar into a pretzel shape, giggling harder. Tried arm-wrestling a fixed machine—ripped the arm clean off. Limits? She pushed: curling 600 pounds one-armed, veins popping like cables, sweat glistening (smelling like sweet perfume). Finally, fatigue nipped—barely—but she stopped, breathless, triumphant.
Back in the bedroom, she hoisted the king-sized bed one-handed for fun—frame creaking, mattress sagging.
The door opened. Loona entered, Odette in tow—both freezing mid-step. Odette's glasses slipped down her nose; Loona's green eyes widened.
Odette stammered, "You… you're muscular.... but how?"
Verosika set the bed down with a thud, smirking. "And strong. Really strong. Your little mouse had nothing on this."
Odette flushed, nipples hardening under her lab coat, mumbling, "The mouse was muscular, but not… this strong. Not like you."
Verosika sauntered over, hips rolling, muscles dancing. "Let me tell you about my experiments, darling." She described it all—shattering glass, breaking furniture, lifting cabinets, crushing plates between her tits, bending bars—voice a sensual purr that made Odette squirm, thighs pressing together.
Shocked yet aroused, Odette whispered, "I… I need to check your vitals." Verosika smirked, agreeing. Odette fumbled with tools—blood pressure sky-high but stable, pulse thundering yet perfect, temperature elevated from arousal. "Incredible…"
Verosika leaned in, lips brushing Odette's ear. "I'm vanishing for a few months. Secret compound. You'll come too. I'll build you a lab. Fresh start." The innuendo dripped—sex, control, eternity. "Officially? My doctor. But you'll be… more." She nipped Odette's earlobe. "Stay here till we move. As my guest." Heavy emphasis on "guest"—nights of dominance implied.
Odette nodded, eyes glazing with enslavement. "Yes… please."
Verosika ordered Niffty to escort her. Alone again, Verosika turned to Loona, bent, and scooped her up one-armed—like lifting a feather. Loona yelped, shocked, dangling in the air.
Verosika laughed smugly. "Look at you now, Mutt."
What happens next?
1. After a few days Verosika is on her way to the isolated compound.
2. Odette starts running tests on Verosika to figure out what happened to her.
The four women filed out of the bedroom in a daze, leaving Verosika alone with Loona and Niffty. The air still thrummed with the weight of her presence—muscles coiling under golden skin, every breath a flex of raw power. She turned to Loona, pink eyes gleaming with command. "Mutt. Bring Odette here. Discreetly. Tell the front desk she's my personal doctor—emergency consult. And spread the word: overdose. Too much fun after the show. That'll buy us time for my little… disappearance."
Loona nodded once, stoic as ever, and strode out without a word, her massive frame still trembling faintly from earlier exertions.
Niffty hovered nearby, eyes wide as saucers, but Verosika waved her off. "Wine. More. Now."
"H-Hai, Miss Mayday-sama!" Niffty bowed low and scampered away, kimono fluttering.
Alone at last, Verosika sauntered back to the full-length mirror, hips swaying with exaggerated sensuality, glutes popping with each step like sculpted marble in motion. She stopped, planted her feet, and flexed—biceps ballooning into peaks that strained the robe's remnants, abs rippling like a washboard under taut bronze skin. A smug grin spread across her perfect face. This wasn't what she'd bargained for with Odette's serum—just eternal youth and beauty—but oh, the bonus. Power incarnate. She'd always craved dominance, but this body screamed it: muscular yet utterly feminine, dangerous curves wrapped in steel. No masculinity here—just amplified haughtiness, smug superiority etched into every vein and fiber.
She flexed her abs harder, watching the eight-pack deepen, shadows playing over the golden-orange glow. A shiver ran through her—a faint, orgasmic tingle that made her gasp. Horny from her own reflection? Maybe. But then her bicep caught her eye: skin stretching tighter, veins surging like rivers under pressure, pulsing with new life. Confusion flickered—brief, dismissed. Power was power.
Niffty returned, bowing submissively with a fresh glass of crimson wine on a tray. "Here, Miss! Fresh and cold!"
Verosika smiled smugly, reveling in the maid's deference—the way Niffty's eyes darted, half in awe, half in fear. She reached out, long feminine fingers curling around the glass's base—and it shattered. Crystal exploded in her grip, shards tinkling to the floor, wine splashing her robe.
"What the—?" Verosika stepped back, surprised, and braced her palm on the nearby dresser for balance. Wood groaned, splintered, and collapsed under her hand like balsa.
She stared at her palm, then flexed her bicep again—watching it swell impossibly. "I don't just look strong…"
Curiosity ignited. She crossed to a heavy wooden cabinet—solid oak, loaded with clothes and trinkets, easily 400 pounds. Squatting low, she gripped the base and lifted. Muscles burned with effort, but it rose—off the floor, steady in her hands. Niffty gasped. "Miss Mayday-sama… super strength! Like a hero!"
Verosika laughed—low, wicked—as she set it down. "Hero? Darling, think bigger." Megalomania swelled like a tide; visions flashed: her as a supervillain, crushing rivals, ruling from shadows.
She needed more. Dropping the cabinet, she strode to the suite's private gym— a room she'd never touched, always Loona's domain for maintaining her bulk. Niffty trailed like a puppy.
Verosika eyed the weights. She started simple: a barbell loaded to 500 pounds. Gripped it, deadlifted—easy. Added more: 800, 1000. Grunted through 1200—three times the Olympic record for men. She giggled childishly, mania bubbling. "Watch this." She balanced a 100-pound plate between her rock-hard breasts, squeezed—metal groaned, bent, crushed into a mangled disc. "Oops." She juggled three 45-pound plates like toys, then slammed them down, cracking the floor. Bent a steel bar into a pretzel shape, giggling harder. Tried arm-wrestling a fixed machine—ripped the arm clean off. Limits? She pushed: curling 600 pounds one-armed, veins popping like cables, sweat glistening (smelling like sweet perfume). Finally, fatigue nipped—barely—but she stopped, breathless, triumphant.
Back in the bedroom, she hoisted the king-sized bed one-handed for fun—frame creaking, mattress sagging.
The door opened. Loona entered, Odette in tow—both freezing mid-step. Odette's glasses slipped down her nose; Loona's green eyes widened.
Odette stammered, "You… you're muscular.... but how?"
Verosika set the bed down with a thud, smirking. "And strong. Really strong. Your little mouse had nothing on this."
Odette flushed, nipples hardening under her lab coat, mumbling, "The mouse was muscular, but not… this strong. Not like you."
Verosika sauntered over, hips rolling, muscles dancing. "Let me tell you about my experiments, darling." She described it all—shattering glass, breaking furniture, lifting cabinets, crushing plates between her tits, bending bars—voice a sensual purr that made Odette squirm, thighs pressing together.
Shocked yet aroused, Odette whispered, "I… I need to check your vitals." Verosika smirked, agreeing. Odette fumbled with tools—blood pressure sky-high but stable, pulse thundering yet perfect, temperature elevated from arousal. "Incredible…"
Verosika leaned in, lips brushing Odette's ear. "I'm vanishing for a few months. Secret compound. You'll come too. I'll build you a lab. Fresh start." The innuendo dripped—sex, control, eternity. "Officially? My doctor. But you'll be… more." She nipped Odette's earlobe. "Stay here till we move. As my guest." Heavy emphasis on "guest"—nights of dominance implied.
Odette nodded, eyes glazing with enslavement. "Yes… please."
Verosika ordered Niffty to escort her. Alone again, Verosika turned to Loona, bent, and scooped her up one-armed—like lifting a feather. Loona yelped, shocked, dangling in the air.
Verosika laughed smugly. "Look at you now, Mutt."
What happens next?
1. After a few days Verosika is on her way to the isolated compound.
2. Odette starts running tests on Verosika to figure out what happened to her.
14 views
·
June 13
Log in to comment