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Description
Stretching
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By Atastretch

(You enlist your boyfriend's help to take the enjoyment of stretching your body to the next level!)

I could barely contain my excitement, but I had to try. "Aw, do you have to go?" I pleaded, not even sounding the slightest bit convincing, even to myself. I've never been good at lying.

"It's no good trying to fool us, just don't throw any parties or burn the place down whilst we're gone, young lady." said my dad with a wry smile. Little did he know what I really had in mind, if he did he'd probably have had a heart attack.

My parents were almost always at home. And when one of them was out, 99 percent of the time the other one stayed in. And over the last couple of months the pressure had been rising, I felt like I'd explode if I couldn't do something more to explore some of the desires and ideas that were increasingly consuming me. Though recently starting at university, I was still living at home with Mom and Dad and I found their constant disapproving supervision stifling. Wanting to explore my sexual predilections, I had been forced for years to sneak out under cover of darkness and climb the tree in the far corner of the garden.

There, I would cling to a low branch and, legs dangling a few feet from the ground, do pull-ups or straight leg raises, feelings of pleasure gradually building in my lower abdomen. Mainly though, I would just hang there, enjoying the delicious sensation of my body stretching out, becoming increasingly aroused despite the pain in my hands and forearms as my grip gradually weakened. I tried to banish the thoughts of perversion from my mind by reassuring myself that enjoyment of stretching was quite natural, why else would cats be so keen to do it all the time if it was not pleasurable? Soon it occurred to me to weigh myself down with bricks, carried on my back in a rucksack. It was very exciting and stimulating to challenge myself in that way and to gradually increase the size of the bag and the number of bricks, as my grip strength increased to cope. In a similar way, I also used extra weights in my pull-up and leg raise exercises, my arm and abdominal strength improving concomitantly.

Then I discovered the increased thrill of climbing to higher branches, the peril of more dangerous heights was a turn-on in itself, as I relied only on my strength to keep me safe. I would wait longer and longer before swinging my legs to the trunk or a nearby branch to support me. Of course, one day the inevitable happened and I didn't make it. I don't know how I managed to escape injury from the fall but I cried out in panic and dismay on the way down and moments later Dad's silhouette was at the window. I was very lucky to get back to my bedroom unharmed and undetected. It had been a really stimulating experience but as usual the threat of my parents finding me in the act dampened down the pleasure considerably.

I was only just over 18 and didn't realise at the time that it was okay to feel sexually stimulated by stretching and other physical exercises. The "coregasm" is not uncommon amongst young women. That said, even if I'd not felt the guilt of what I saw as a strange perversion, It was something I could never discuss with my parents. They avoided anything to do with "The facts of life" and were very happy to leave such embarrassing topics in the inadequate hands of the education system. They were super-strict even by Chinese standards and made enough fuss about me having a friend who happened to be a boy. I'm sure they were delighted when he, along with most of my other school friends, left our hometown and were scattered to other parts of the country to pursue their further education. It seemed to me that I was the only one left behind, still in the clutches of my parents.

Since the fall, partly due to the colder weather, I'd reduced my nocturnal adventures at the bottom of the garden but abstinence had just increased my frustration. Now, my distant Grandma's illness presented me with an unprecedented opportunity. Left alone unsupervised to hold the fort, I could enjoy maybe even a week or more of freedom to indulge my predilections!

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I needed to make plans. Soon I hit on the idea of making the garage my exercise room. No need to leave the house, there was a door from the kitchen. The car was out of the way, it left with the parents. There were steel beams overhead and an inspection pit below. I rigged up a metal bar, suspended from a beam by chains. That should be more than strong enough.

After a few trial runs, I realised that since the garage was offering me safety from discovery, I could begin to think about more ambitious goals, ways to push my stretching activities to the next level now that my parents' absence had afforded the opportunity. I prepared some other items, using wood and ropes and assorted stuff lying around in the garage. I knew what I wanted to do but I began to realise that I would need the help of an assistant. Though dreading the idea at first, I gradually accepted it as inevitable.

I had made a few friends at university already but whom could I trust? I didn't know any of them very well yet. The more I thought about it, the less I liked the idea of asking one of the girls for help. I know it's a stereotype but I could just see them gossiping about me behind my back and soon being shunned as a freak. If it was going to be a boy, then there really was only one choice. Bill and I met on our second day at uni, he seemed a gentle, happy soul who liked talking and movies, we shared musical tastes and were studying the same subject, so tended to meet up often. I felt instinctively that I could trust him, so I bit the bullet and asked him over to my place on the pretext of helping me with my exercises.

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Bill came back to the house with me on the following evening. I clicked on the lights as he followed me into the garage, looking around. "What is it exactly that you want me to do?" he enquired, scratching his head.

"I just need you to help me with my workout." I said simply, hoping that he wouldn't keep asking me things. It was going to be difficult enough to conceal my fetish from him without his questions. I proceeded to tie my ankles together with a piece of rope.

"What you doin' that for?" He asked.

"It's so that you can hook the bag onto my ankles." I explained, hoping I hadn't made a mistake in enlisting his help. I stood up with some difficulty and hopped precariously to the edge of the pit. Then I reached up and jumped, catching the bar and suspending myself by my hands. I was starting to feel excited already. "That rucksack," I nodded towards it, "hook it onto my ankles." He stared at me for a moment but then obeyed, his puzzled frown replaced by a look of surprise when he realised the weight of the thing.

"It's heavy!" he observed, part dragging it towards me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I snapped, a little impatiently. Was I going to be questioned every time I opened my mouth?

He lifted it with a grunt and fumbled with the hook. As he lowered it into place and transferred the weight to me, I could see that he was nervously expecting me to fall on top of him. Wow, this was so much better than wearing the bag on my back! Instead of the straps cutting into my shoulders, the weight was pulling down on my whole body. I could feel myself lengthening slightly and the skin stretching over my ribs. I let out a gasp of pleasure, then realised what I'd done and followed it up with a few fake gasps of effort. I couldn't resist doing pull-ups to see how it felt not to be restricted by the shoulder straps. I did two and it felt great, but I thought I'd better leave it at that. Then I allowed myself one straight leg raise.

I had done straight leg raises countless times before and had long ago graduated to a couple of kilo weighted anklets but had never but had never had the opportunity to use this kind of weight. I wasn't prepared for the waves of pleasure that coursed through my abdomen as I grunted with the effort of raising my legs, but I pushed through it and lifted them to the horizontal. I held them there for a few seconds, the weight trying to force them down whist my lust for the exquisite sensations begged me to hold them up. I opened my eyes and noticed for the first time the look of open-mouthed amazement on Bill's face. I thought it best to lower my legs at that point, but still couldn't help but treat myself to a slow, controlled descent.

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"That was incredible!" blurted Bill. I regarded him analytically. He seemed sincere.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well - how much does that bag weigh?" he demanded.

"It's got four bricks in it, so it must be about... 14 kilos." I calculated. What was he getting at?

"I don't know anyone who can do what you just did with a weight like that!" he said in genuine awe.

"You're joking." I asserted, although he seemed sincere. "There must be loads of girls- "

"No, and not even any guys. You're incredible!" he interrupted enthusiastically. I stared at him. A warm glow came over me. He actually admired my strange exercise!

This was totally unexpected. First, what made him think I was any stronger than the average girl? Wouldn't I have noticed, if that had been the case? Second, I thought guys were only interested in how a girl behaves and looks, not how strong her muscles are. I looked at him again. His expression was a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I considered for a moment, then asked him if he'd like to see some more.

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Bill nodded vigorously, his grin broadening. I still had the first rucksack dangling from my ankles, so I turned my face and nodded to the other, asking him to attach it. His eyes opened wider but he did it, lowering the second 14kg bag into place with unnecessary gentleness.

This was wonderful, the heavy weight tugging through me was producing the most indescribable sensations, in the muscles of my arms, in my thighs and especially my lower abdomen. After a minute of just hanging there blissfully, eyes closed, I heaved myself up to chin the bar, feeling my biceps bulge to meet the challenge. It felt so good that I did it a second time, then, slightly more slowly, a third. I lowered myself gradually to the dead hang position and opened my eyes.

Bill was standing like a statue, his fists were clenched, his jaw had dropped way down and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. I noticed with a shock a bulge in his pants that had not been there before. Keeping my eyes open this time, I heaved my straight legs, weights attached, up to the horizontal, then slightly higher. I was rewarded not only with a lovely sensation in the pit of my stomach, far outweighing the discomfort of the effort, but also by an increase in the size of Bill's bulge. Lowering my legs ultra-slowly, I repeated the lift, forcing my legs a little higher, not bothering to suppress my vocalisations as I groaned and gasped with the strain and pleasure.

Bill croaked, barely audibly. "What?" I said.

He tried a second time, still in barely a whisper: "Again."

I must say that this admiration was feeling very welcome and I suppose the state of physical pleasure I'd built up contributed to my desire to comply. I had been holding my legs in the pike position and the effort involved was taking its toll, my abdomen and thighs were beginning to tremble. Nevertheless, I took care to lower the weight no less slowly than last time, then, with a gut-wrenching heave, began to bring it up once more. The pain was almost too much but I wanted to squeeze every last ounce of pleasure out of the exercise, so I raised my legs as slowly as I had lowered them, then pushed through the agony to elevate them as high as I could above horizontal. Shaking badly, with clenched teeth, I held this excruciating position for five seconds then I felt an orgasm approaching, so I lowered the legs and their 28kg load as slowly as I dared and just in time to avoid pushing myself over the edge.

"Can you take them off?" I said to Bill. He came out of his trance and walked awkwardly over to me.

"Your hands must be really strong." he mumbled.

"Not especially, I don't think." I replied. "What makes you say that?"

"Well you've been hanging up there all that time, with those weights dangling from you. Your grip strength must be fantastic." My hands were fine, but I dropped down from the bar when he said that.

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Things had been going really well so far, I was really enjoying being stretched properly at last. Having someone help me was the ideal way to go and Bill seemed perfect, he was enjoying it too and was doing my ego no end of good. Thankfully, he seemed to think that these activities were perfectly acceptable, so I decided to go for broke and tell him my guilty secret. I began to untie my ankles.

"You seemed to like watching my exercises, it looks like you’re even a little turned on by them." I remarked.

"Wow, yes, I admire strong women." said Bill, smiling sheepishly.

"Well I'm trying to get stronger. Exercises like that turn me on too." I stated, as matter-of-factly as I could manage. "So if we're both having a good time, shall we continue?"

"Er - I wondered if I could, umm, ask you something." he said nervously.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "w-when most people exercise they don't wear baggy denim jeans, sweater and jacket. It would make it easier for you if you wore less - er - restrictive clothing. Has - has anyone told you that you have a very pretty face?"

"No!" I laughed, a little embarrassed by this sudden personal remark, "Only my mother but she doesn't count."

"Do you realise that I don't have any idea what the rest of you looks like, I've only ever seen you with thick layers of clothes on? I was thinking that if you did your exercises in - well, less clothing - then both of us might enjoy it more. It would be great to see your muscles working as you do your lifts."

I admit that I was taken aback at first but as soon as I considered it, the idea seemed to make sense. I'd never looked at my own body during all the years I'd been doing the exercises. Apart from being fully clothed each time, most of my furtive exertions had been performed under the cover of darkness. He might be right, seeing my own muscles straining might be an additional turn-on. As for taking my clothes off in front of Bill, I didn't have any worries about that. Whilst being nothing special, I thought my body was reasonably okay and I wasn't ashamed of it.

"Okay!" I decided suddenly and skipped out of the garage to change, without taking the time to see the look my reply had left on his face. Upstairs, I chose a skimpy white bikini I hadn't had the chance to wear for as long as I could remember. I'd grown considerably since then but managed to make it fit by breathing out fully as I fastened the top. Boy, it was tight! On the way back to the garage it occurred to me that, whilst Bill would be able to see me well enough, I wouldn't get a good view of myself. I picked up the big, full-length mirror from the hallway, carried it into the garage and set it up in a good position.

I turned to face Bill. He was staring at me. He looked as though a hypnotist had crept in and mesmerised him whilst I'd been out of the room. "Oh... my... God!" he managed at last, then, in a faraway, dreamy voice: "You are absolutely perfect." I thought I saw a tear glistening in his left eye.

"What nonsense!" I scoffed, feeling my face redden a little. I turned abruptly and went to the pit, where I sat and re-tied the rope on my ankles. I found myself shivering and realised that it was pretty cold. Well, it was practically winter. Never mind, I'd soon warm up whilst exercising. I jumped up and gripped the bar.

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"You see that platform with ropes on each corner? Please attach it to my ankles." Bill was moving like a robot. I hoped he would loosen up. Now, put one of those bags of cement on it." He followed my gaze and the sight of the bags seemed to wake him up. "Christ!" he burst out. "Do you know how much that bag weighs?" I didn't answer but I was getting really excited. This would be way more than I'd ever had the opportunity of supporting with my hands before.

He struggled and grunted over the bag. I was a bit surprised that he was having so much difficulty lifting it, he must not be as strong as he looked. Whilst I waited, I took a look in the mirror. I noticed the goose pimples covering my skin and realised that I was shivering slightly. I turned my head slightly on one side. I suppose some people might say that I did look a bit sexy, stretched out like that. However, I’m afraid the garage lighting was catching me just right to accentuate my over-deep cleavage and prominent ribs. My stomach musculature and the curve of my thighs were all too obvious as I dangled there. Bill was making quite a fuss as he strained to lift the bag into the platform, but next moment I felt a huge downward pull as the 50kg of cement powder suddenly stretched my body. I tightened my grip and threw my head back, sighing with pleasure as the weight tugged through my core.

Opening my eyes, I looked into the mirror. The effect of the added load was startling. My waist was narrower, my tummy concave with prominent cords of muscle either side of the navel, my ribs showed more clearly through my stretched skin and my breasts bulged over the top of the bikini. I could see the outline of my nipples just below the top edge of the bikini, as the cold air or the stimulation of the stretching had caused them to become erect. The image in the mirror and the stretching feeling thrilled me.

Turning to look at Bill, I could tell that he was similarly excited! His eyes were wide and he seemed unaware that a thin filament of drool was gradually descending from one side of his mouth. It was time to give him a show, I was suddenly wickedly curious to know how much of an effect the sight of my body could have on him.

With a huge effort, I forced my biceps to bend my arms and drag myself and the heavy bag upwards. Through narrowed eyes, I saw the muscles bulge into twin peaks and vibrate as I gradually rose towards the bar. The feeling of being able to lift a mass like that, the same bag that had given Bill such trouble whilst he was standing on the ground, was exhilarating. God, it was heavy, but I ground my teeth together and somehow my chin slipped above the bar. Lowering myself until my arms were straight, I dared to hope that I had the strength for a second. I was shaking fit to bust and it took me twice as long as the first time but somehow I willed myself to the top. Now for part two.

Throwing my head back, I tensed my abdominals and began drawing my knees upwards. It was a terrible effort with that bag at my ankles but I knew that I could force my stomach muscles to do it, I was determined not to give up. Of course it helped that lovely waves of pleasure were radiating out from the pit of my stomach. Part of the way up, I raised my head and looked at Bill. He was staring at my body, his face pale, his head shaking from side to side very slowly, as if he was denying what his eyes were telling him.

With a final enormous effort, I brought my thighs to the horizontal and held them there. I wanted to keep my body like that, coiled tight like a spring, for as long as I could. The ache in my arms was increasing by the second and my belly felt like it had been worked over by Mike Tyson but I wasn't ready to give in that easily. I was already gasping with the strain and increasingly shaking but now I began to whimper. I looked at the mirror and was amazed to see the definition of my own abdominal muscles. My breasts were wobbling alarmingly now, looking like they could escape the tight bikini top at any moment. Despite the cold, they and other parts of my body were peppered with perspiration. I looked again at Bill to see his reaction to this sight and saw that he was in the middle of an orgasm.

With the intense pleasure emanating from my core, coupled with the realisation that I had induced an orgasm in Bill, I felt myself accelerating towards a climax. I wanted to fight it off until the last possible moment, to see how long I could force my exhausted muscles to obey me. The very idea of that turned me on even more, so it was only a few seconds later that I was hit by the most powerful orgasm of my life. My arms had been starting to unbend at that point but suddenly every muscle in my body seemed to contract powerfully as an explosion of ecstasy hit my brain. As I emerged from it, I realised that I'd lifted the cement bag much higher, my knees were pressing my breasts even further upwards and I had pulled up so far that the bar was pressing quite deeply into the top of them. With a growl of determination, I fought to maintain that position, helped by the wonderful sensations now coming from my squeezed breasts. I was crying out with effort and fighting with all my remaining strength and endurance to assert my will against gravity and my own exhaustion. My abs and biceps were hurting terribly. I fought valiantly all the way down, until I hung stretched out and sobbing a full minute later.

Even my eyelids felt tired and heavy as I opened them and refocused until I could see Bill. "That" he said eventually, "was the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

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"Hurry!" I managed to gasp, "My grip is beginning to weaken. Put another cement bag on."

He was clearly shocked. Then a wry smile appeared. "You are joking, right?"

"Another." I repeated impatiently. The smile disappeared. Speechless but shaking his head, Bill dragged himself to his feet and stumbled over to the stack of cement bags. He looked tired. With much grunting, He heaved the second 50kg sack on top of the first one. I couldn't help but throw my head back and cry out at the shock of it, as the load doubled. Somehow I managed to hang onto the bar as the weight tugged through my hypersensitive belly and I felt my skin stretching delightfully over my taut muscles. I saw stars for a few seconds, then as they faded I turned to regard myself in the mirror.

I'd never seen my body looking like that! Totally extended, I looked appreciably taller than my usual 5 foot zero height. Most of the extra inches seemed to come between my lower ribs and my hips; my waist was even thinner than usual. I could no longer see my navel, it was hiding somewhere in the long, deep valley between my abs. My ribs blanched the yellowish skin of my chest as they bowed out against it. My breasts were lifted so high that they had almost come out of the bikini top and were just inches from my chin. They rose and fell with my rapid breathing.

I looked at Bill, who gazed with a mixture of disbelief and admiration at my body. I had only a minute left, tops, before my grip would fail. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Bill would probably enjoy this too, I thought, which made me smile. With a difficulty that surprised me, I spoke: "I can't raise my legs, with all this weight, and I can't do a pull-up - but I'm going to try my hardest to do both at once!"

As soon as I started, waves of intense pleasure swept through me. The strain was terrific but I pushed myself harder and harder, my abdominal muscles and biceps screaming for mercy as I felt another huge orgasm rushing towards me. "More, more!" I ordered myself, then realised that I was screaming it aloud. I managed to force my eyes open for a look in the mirror and was amazed to see that both my arms and legs were actually bent, between them they had raised the weight about a foot! I was shaking terribly but determined to push myself to the maximum. I threw my head back again and screamed as I threw absolutely everything I had into one last, enormous effort, then the massive orgasm came.

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Next thing I knew, I was coming round, a concerned Bill stooping beside me and firing questions. I was lying in the inspection pit. “I'm okay, I think." I re-assured him, with a smile. Wow, I had been lucky not to bash my head on the edge of the pit when I fell. Bill had already untied my ankle rope. I tested my limbs, which were tired but working well enough. Bill helped me out of the pit and we sat down on its chilly edge.

"I really can't believe how strong you are," he was saying, "how long you managed to hang onto that bar and what a beautiful body you have."

"Well, I suppose I may be a bit stronger than I thought,” I said, "but not much stronger than the average girl, I'm sure. As for beautiful, my body's all disproportionate, my waist is too skinny, my breasts are too big. My belly is not smooth like other girls' its all lumpy with muscles and my thighs are too curved. My upper arms are too big. Don't you prefer a white girl's skin colour to mine?"

"No, no, I think Asian girls are more attractive than most - and you are a very beautiful one. As for all the things you said about your body, I don't agree with any of it, in my eyes you are almost perfect, very sexy. Your arms are very nicely proportioned. I don't like these so-called supermodels with their stick-like arms and legs. Arms are no more supposed to be the same thickness all the way up than legs are.” I was beginning to shiver with the cold again. "Well then," I said quickly, "let's get back to it, I want to see how far I can go."

"But..." For a moment Bill seemed lost for words, then he found some. "But you almost hurt yourself, I don't want you to ..."

"What if we make sure I can't fall this time?" I interjected, getting up and starting to retrieve one of the cement sacks from the pit. Bill also jumped up and, seeing that I was able to deal with the bag unaided, respectfully began to tackle the other one, trying in vain to make it look easy. I dumped the bag back on the stack, walked to one of the garage shelves and began rummaging through a box of rags, whilst Bill still struggled with his bag. "If you tie my wrists to the bar, I'll be safe." I pointed out.

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Moments later, I was standing on a stool with my wrists bound tightly to the bar. I stepped off and dangled over the pit, testing my bonds for security and comfort. I must admit that I felt a thrill, I was now pretty helpless and alone with this guy whom I didn't really know very well. He was a pretty big guy too, well over six foot and pretty solid, he must have weighed about 100 kilos. Still, I wasn't very worried, he seemed pretty decent and quite concerned for my well-being. I asked him to tie my ankles together and suspend the platform from them, as before.

Eagerly, he loaded first one, then two bags of cement onto the platform. I began to realise that we should have left them nearer the pit, one by one, poor Bill had to stagger all the way across the room with them again. I was pleasantly surprised that the wrist straps were not more uncomfortable; sure, they hurt with all that weight but not unbearably so. I closed my eyes and absorbed the exquisite stretching feeling for a few moments, then opened them and enjoyed the sight of my stretched body in the mirror. I glanced at Bill and my grin broadened; his obvious pleasure at what he saw was boosting my enjoyment.

I felt really stretched, but knew I could take more. How much more, though? One bag of bricks? Two? Another 50kg? As soon as I considered it, I knew I had to go straight for a third cement sack. I was becoming so excited by the idea, I could feel a thrill propagate through me from head to toe. All caution evaporated.

"Another sack, Bill!" I called, trying not to sound as desperate as I was to be even more stretched. Bill was starting to get used to my crazy requests and didn't argue, his eyes just widened and he smiled in anticipation as he heaved yet one more sack towards me. He tried to lower it gently onto the others but the weight made it difficult. I couldn’t help but scream as a mixture of pain and pleasure flooded my body. I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror, blinking back the tears that were forming.

I'd thought I couldn't look more stretched than when I was weighed down by two bags. I was wrong. I had always wanted to be taller and now I literally was, my body appeared to be some four inches longer! My ribs were nearly all visible, showing white through stretched, goose pimpled skin and my abdomen was cavernous. My abdominal muscles were really bulging out of the stretched skin and the deep vertical groove extended all the way from my sternum into to my bikini bottoms. I could see tendons standing out on my arms and legs. My breasts, erect nipples beginning to emerge above the bikini top, were almost touching my chin. I didn't care, though, all I could think about was the ecstatic feelings in my breasts and belly. I could feel my juices being squeezed from my body. I was groaning loudly and hoarsely, then I heard myself saying "Get on!"

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My mind was swimming, it took a few moments to realise what I'd said, and a few more to properly understand what it meant. I looked at Bill and saw the strange gleam in his eye as he got to his feet. Later, he told me that he was so amazed and turned on by my seemingly limitless display of strength that he had come to accept that I could handle anything. He didn't doubt for a moment that I could withstand his 100kg on top of the 150kg that already stretched me out. Overwhelmed with desire, I was in a blind haze of ecstasy and lust and quite incapable of telling him to stop. I just longed for more; more weight, more stretching, more pleasure, and damn the consequences.

Bill stepped onto the platform and in an instant increased the weight on my body to a quarter tonne. I screamed three times, my chest heaving and my head thrown right back; the pain in my wrists and ankles was intense but it was almost immediately overwhelmed by the gorgeous sensations I felt, as my body was stretched more than ever before. I had an instant orgasm and felt myself immediately building for another. My abdominal muscles felt like thick rubber bands being slowly stretched to their breaking point. It was as if dozens of strong hands were pulling at all of my abs, their fingers digging into the crevices between them and trying to prise them apart. I could actually feel my waist thinning and had a brief vision of my body being torn in half! The second orgasm hit, I heard myself making hoarse, guttural sounds like some kind of animal, then the next orgasm started to approach. My thighs and belly were tingling and my breasts felt like they were about to burst with pleasure. I suddenly realised that I was struggling to breathe; it felt as if my ribcage had a sumo wrestler sitting on top of it, I had to make a real effort to suck in air and even then could only manage shallow, rapid breaths. My whole body was shaking with the terrible strain as the third orgasm hit me like an express train.

I managed to force my eyes open. Bob was standing right in front of me, holding onto my elbows to balance himself. His arms were nearly straight, he was leaning slightly backwards so that he could get a good view of me and his expression was one of astonishment. I turned my head to look in the mirror and I could see myself clearly from top to toe. I was shocked by what I saw.

My breasts had burst out of the bikini, the nipples were more thick and erect than I'd ever seen them, standing up on either side of my cheeks and pointing directly at the ceiling. They were heaving up and down rapidly as I fought to breathe. Bill was staring at them, his eyes popping and his jaw sagging deeply. My armpits were cavernous, my shoulders and neck a mass of writhing tendons and my arms were unmistakably longer than usual. My ribs were all strikingly visible and looked like they were about to burst from my heaving chest at any moment, the white skin over them stretched paper-thin. My waist was shockingly narrowed, my abdomen so concave that big gaps had appeared between the top of my panties and my lower belly, either side of a thick, double, central cord of bulging, straining muscle. The gap between my jutting ribs and hips was frightening. I began to panic that something in my body would snap or tear or burst at any moment, yet I was still overwhelmed by the intoxicating waves of pleasure coursing through it and I didn’t want to stop. I could hear myself screaming, I'd thrown my head back again and I was shuddering violently as the fourth orgasm in a row crashed into me and my whole body stiffened with powerfully straining muscles.

Suddenly through my overloaded senses, came a strange sound, like a motor, then a blinding light. Blinking over Bill's shoulder, I could just make out, through the opening garage door, the sight of my parents hurriedly climbing out of their car...

Atastretch
August 2018

Description
Stretching
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By Atastretch

(You enlist your boyfriend's help to take the enjoyment of stretching your body to the next level!)

I could barely contain my excitement, but I had to try. "Aw, do you have to go?" I pleaded, not even sounding the slightest bit convincing, even to myself. I've never been good at lying.

"It's no good trying to fool us, just don't throw any parties or burn the place down whilst we're gone, young lady." said my dad with a wry smile. Little did he know what I really had in mind, if he did he'd probably have had a heart attack.

My parents were almost always at home. And when one of them was out, 99 percent of the time the other one stayed in. And over the last couple of months the pressure had been rising, I felt like I'd explode if I couldn't do something more to explore some of the desires and ideas that were increasingly consuming me. Though recently starting at university, I was still living at home with Mom and Dad and I found their constant disapproving supervision stifling. Wanting to explore my sexual predilections, I had been forced for years to sneak out under cover of darkness and climb the tree in the far corner of the garden.

There, I would cling to a low branch and, legs dangling a few feet from the ground, do pull-ups or straight leg raises, feelings of pleasure gradually building in my lower abdomen. Mainly though, I would just hang there, enjoying the delicious sensation of my body stretching out, becoming increasingly aroused despite the pain in my hands and forearms as my grip gradually weakened. I tried to banish the thoughts of perversion from my mind by reassuring myself that enjoyment of stretching was quite natural, why else would cats be so keen to do it all the time if it was not pleasurable? Soon it occurred to me to weigh myself down with bricks, carried on my back in a rucksack. It was very exciting and stimulating to challenge myself in that way and to gradually increase the size of the bag and the number of bricks, as my grip strength increased to cope. In a similar way, I also used extra weights in my pull-up and leg raise exercises, my arm and abdominal strength improving concomitantly.

Then I discovered the increased thrill of climbing to higher branches, the peril of more dangerous heights was a turn-on in itself, as I relied only on my strength to keep me safe. I would wait longer and longer before swinging my legs to the trunk or a nearby branch to support me. Of course, one day the inevitable happened and I didn't make it. I don't know how I managed to escape injury from the fall but I cried out in panic and dismay on the way down and moments later Dad's silhouette was at the window. I was very lucky to get back to my bedroom unharmed and undetected. It had been a really stimulating experience but as usual the threat of my parents finding me in the act dampened down the pleasure considerably.

I was only just over 18 and didn't realise at the time that it was okay to feel sexually stimulated by stretching and other physical exercises. The "coregasm" is not uncommon amongst young women. That said, even if I'd not felt the guilt of what I saw as a strange perversion, It was something I could never discuss with my parents. They avoided anything to do with "The facts of life" and were very happy to leave such embarrassing topics in the inadequate hands of the education system. They were super-strict even by Chinese standards and made enough fuss about me having a friend who happened to be a boy. I'm sure they were delighted when he, along with most of my other school friends, left our hometown and were scattered to other parts of the country to pursue their further education. It seemed to me that I was the only one left behind, still in the clutches of my parents.

Since the fall, partly due to the colder weather, I'd reduced my nocturnal adventures at the bottom of the garden but abstinence had just increased my frustration. Now, my distant Grandma's illness presented me with an unprecedented opportunity. Left alone unsupervised to hold the fort, I could enjoy maybe even a week or more of freedom to indulge my predilections!

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I needed to make plans. Soon I hit on the idea of making the garage my exercise room. No need to leave the house, there was a door from the kitchen. The car was out of the way, it left with the parents. There were steel beams overhead and an inspection pit below. I rigged up a metal bar, suspended from a beam by chains. That should be more than strong enough.

After a few trial runs, I realised that since the garage was offering me safety from discovery, I could begin to think about more ambitious goals, ways to push my stretching activities to the next level now that my parents' absence had afforded the opportunity. I prepared some other items, using wood and ropes and assorted stuff lying around in the garage. I knew what I wanted to do but I began to realise that I would need the help of an assistant. Though dreading the idea at first, I gradually accepted it as inevitable.

I had made a few friends at university already but whom could I trust? I didn't know any of them very well yet. The more I thought about it, the less I liked the idea of asking one of the girls for help. I know it's a stereotype but I could just see them gossiping about me behind my back and soon being shunned as a freak. If it was going to be a boy, then there really was only one choice. Bill and I met on our second day at uni, he seemed a gentle, happy soul who liked talking and movies, we shared musical tastes and were studying the same subject, so tended to meet up often. I felt instinctively that I could trust him, so I bit the bullet and asked him over to my place on the pretext of helping me with my exercises.

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Bill came back to the house with me on the following evening. I clicked on the lights as he followed me into the garage, looking around. "What is it exactly that you want me to do?" he enquired, scratching his head.

"I just need you to help me with my workout." I said simply, hoping that he wouldn't keep asking me things. It was going to be difficult enough to conceal my fetish from him without his questions. I proceeded to tie my ankles together with a piece of rope.

"What you doin' that for?" He asked.

"It's so that you can hook the bag onto my ankles." I explained, hoping I hadn't made a mistake in enlisting his help. I stood up with some difficulty and hopped precariously to the edge of the pit. Then I reached up and jumped, catching the bar and suspending myself by my hands. I was starting to feel excited already. "That rucksack," I nodded towards it, "hook it onto my ankles." He stared at me for a moment but then obeyed, his puzzled frown replaced by a look of surprise when he realised the weight of the thing.

"It's heavy!" he observed, part dragging it towards me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I snapped, a little impatiently. Was I going to be questioned every time I opened my mouth?

He lifted it with a grunt and fumbled with the hook. As he lowered it into place and transferred the weight to me, I could see that he was nervously expecting me to fall on top of him. Wow, this was so much better than wearing the bag on my back! Instead of the straps cutting into my shoulders, the weight was pulling down on my whole body. I could feel myself lengthening slightly and the skin stretching over my ribs. I let out a gasp of pleasure, then realised what I'd done and followed it up with a few fake gasps of effort. I couldn't resist doing pull-ups to see how it felt not to be restricted by the shoulder straps. I did two and it felt great, but I thought I'd better leave it at that. Then I allowed myself one straight leg raise.

I had done straight leg raises countless times before and had long ago graduated to a couple of kilo weighted anklets but had never but had never had the opportunity to use this kind of weight. I wasn't prepared for the waves of pleasure that coursed through my abdomen as I grunted with the effort of raising my legs, but I pushed through it and lifted them to the horizontal. I held them there for a few seconds, the weight trying to force them down whist my lust for the exquisite sensations begged me to hold them up. I opened my eyes and noticed for the first time the look of open-mouthed amazement on Bill's face. I thought it best to lower my legs at that point, but still couldn't help but treat myself to a slow, controlled descent.

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"That was incredible!" blurted Bill. I regarded him analytically. He seemed sincere.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well - how much does that bag weigh?" he demanded.

"It's got four bricks in it, so it must be about... 14 kilos." I calculated. What was he getting at?

"I don't know anyone who can do what you just did with a weight like that!" he said in genuine awe.

"You're joking." I asserted, although he seemed sincere. "There must be loads of girls- "

"No, and not even any guys. You're incredible!" he interrupted enthusiastically. I stared at him. A warm glow came over me. He actually admired my strange exercise!

This was totally unexpected. First, what made him think I was any stronger than the average girl? Wouldn't I have noticed, if that had been the case? Second, I thought guys were only interested in how a girl behaves and looks, not how strong her muscles are. I looked at him again. His expression was a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I considered for a moment, then asked him if he'd like to see some more.

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Bill nodded vigorously, his grin broadening. I still had the first rucksack dangling from my ankles, so I turned my face and nodded to the other, asking him to attach it. His eyes opened wider but he did it, lowering the second 14kg bag into place with unnecessary gentleness.

This was wonderful, the heavy weight tugging through me was producing the most indescribable sensations, in the muscles of my arms, in my thighs and especially my lower abdomen. After a minute of just hanging there blissfully, eyes closed, I heaved myself up to chin the bar, feeling my biceps bulge to meet the challenge. It felt so good that I did it a second time, then, slightly more slowly, a third. I lowered myself gradually to the dead hang position and opened my eyes.

Bill was standing like a statue, his fists were clenched, his jaw had dropped way down and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. I noticed with a shock a bulge in his pants that had not been there before. Keeping my eyes open this time, I heaved my straight legs, weights attached, up to the horizontal, then slightly higher. I was rewarded not only with a lovely sensation in the pit of my stomach, far outweighing the discomfort of the effort, but also by an increase in the size of Bill's bulge. Lowering my legs ultra-slowly, I repeated the lift, forcing my legs a little higher, not bothering to suppress my vocalisations as I groaned and gasped with the strain and pleasure.

Bill croaked, barely audibly. "What?" I said.

He tried a second time, still in barely a whisper: "Again."

I must say that this admiration was feeling very welcome and I suppose the state of physical pleasure I'd built up contributed to my desire to comply. I had been holding my legs in the pike position and the effort involved was taking its toll, my abdomen and thighs were beginning to tremble. Nevertheless, I took care to lower the weight no less slowly than last time, then, with a gut-wrenching heave, began to bring it up once more. The pain was almost too much but I wanted to squeeze every last ounce of pleasure out of the exercise, so I raised my legs as slowly as I had lowered them, then pushed through the agony to elevate them as high as I could above horizontal. Shaking badly, with clenched teeth, I held this excruciating position for five seconds then I felt an orgasm approaching, so I lowered the legs and their 28kg load as slowly as I dared and just in time to avoid pushing myself over the edge.

"Can you take them off?" I said to Bill. He came out of his trance and walked awkwardly over to me.

"Your hands must be really strong." he mumbled.

"Not especially, I don't think." I replied. "What makes you say that?"

"Well you've been hanging up there all that time, with those weights dangling from you. Your grip strength must be fantastic." My hands were fine, but I dropped down from the bar when he said that.

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Things had been going really well so far, I was really enjoying being stretched properly at last. Having someone help me was the ideal way to go and Bill seemed perfect, he was enjoying it too and was doing my ego no end of good. Thankfully, he seemed to think that these activities were perfectly acceptable, so I decided to go for broke and tell him my guilty secret. I began to untie my ankles.

"You seemed to like watching my exercises, it looks like you’re even a little turned on by them." I remarked.

"Wow, yes, I admire strong women." said Bill, smiling sheepishly.

"Well I'm trying to get stronger. Exercises like that turn me on too." I stated, as matter-of-factly as I could manage. "So if we're both having a good time, shall we continue?"

"Er - I wondered if I could, umm, ask you something." he said nervously.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "w-when most people exercise they don't wear baggy denim jeans, sweater and jacket. It would make it easier for you if you wore less - er - restrictive clothing. Has - has anyone told you that you have a very pretty face?"

"No!" I laughed, a little embarrassed by this sudden personal remark, "Only my mother but she doesn't count."

"Do you realise that I don't have any idea what the rest of you looks like, I've only ever seen you with thick layers of clothes on? I was thinking that if you did your exercises in - well, less clothing - then both of us might enjoy it more. It would be great to see your muscles working as you do your lifts."

I admit that I was taken aback at first but as soon as I considered it, the idea seemed to make sense. I'd never looked at my own body during all the years I'd been doing the exercises. Apart from being fully clothed each time, most of my furtive exertions had been performed under the cover of darkness. He might be right, seeing my own muscles straining might be an additional turn-on. As for taking my clothes off in front of Bill, I didn't have any worries about that. Whilst being nothing special, I thought my body was reasonably okay and I wasn't ashamed of it.

"Okay!" I decided suddenly and skipped out of the garage to change, without taking the time to see the look my reply had left on his face. Upstairs, I chose a skimpy white bikini I hadn't had the chance to wear for as long as I could remember. I'd grown considerably since then but managed to make it fit by breathing out fully as I fastened the top. Boy, it was tight! On the way back to the garage it occurred to me that, whilst Bill would be able to see me well enough, I wouldn't get a good view of myself. I picked up the big, full-length mirror from the hallway, carried it into the garage and set it up in a good position.

I turned to face Bill. He was staring at me. He looked as though a hypnotist had crept in and mesmerised him whilst I'd been out of the room. "Oh... my... God!" he managed at last, then, in a faraway, dreamy voice: "You are absolutely perfect." I thought I saw a tear glistening in his left eye.

"What nonsense!" I scoffed, feeling my face redden a little. I turned abruptly and went to the pit, where I sat and re-tied the rope on my ankles. I found myself shivering and realised that it was pretty cold. Well, it was practically winter. Never mind, I'd soon warm up whilst exercising. I jumped up and gripped the bar.

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"You see that platform with ropes on each corner? Please attach it to my ankles." Bill was moving like a robot. I hoped he would loosen up. Now, put one of those bags of cement on it." He followed my gaze and the sight of the bags seemed to wake him up. "Christ!" he burst out. "Do you know how much that bag weighs?" I didn't answer but I was getting really excited. This would be way more than I'd ever had the opportunity of supporting with my hands before.

He struggled and grunted over the bag. I was a bit surprised that he was having so much difficulty lifting it, he must not be as strong as he looked. Whilst I waited, I took a look in the mirror. I noticed the goose pimples covering my skin and realised that I was shivering slightly. I turned my head slightly on one side. I suppose some people might say that I did look a bit sexy, stretched out like that. However, I’m afraid the garage lighting was catching me just right to accentuate my over-deep cleavage and prominent ribs. My stomach musculature and the curve of my thighs were all too obvious as I dangled there. Bill was making quite a fuss as he strained to lift the bag into the platform, but next moment I felt a huge downward pull as the 50kg of cement powder suddenly stretched my body. I tightened my grip and threw my head back, sighing with pleasure as the weight tugged through my core.

Opening my eyes, I looked into the mirror. The effect of the added load was startling. My waist was narrower, my tummy concave with prominent cords of muscle either side of the navel, my ribs showed more clearly through my stretched skin and my breasts bulged over the top of the bikini. I could see the outline of my nipples just below the top edge of the bikini, as the cold air or the stimulation of the stretching had caused them to become erect. The image in the mirror and the stretching feeling thrilled me.

Turning to look at Bill, I could tell that he was similarly excited! His eyes were wide and he seemed unaware that a thin filament of drool was gradually descending from one side of his mouth. It was time to give him a show, I was suddenly wickedly curious to know how much of an effect the sight of my body could have on him.

With a huge effort, I forced my biceps to bend my arms and drag myself and the heavy bag upwards. Through narrowed eyes, I saw the muscles bulge into twin peaks and vibrate as I gradually rose towards the bar. The feeling of being able to lift a mass like that, the same bag that had given Bill such trouble whilst he was standing on the ground, was exhilarating. God, it was heavy, but I ground my teeth together and somehow my chin slipped above the bar. Lowering myself until my arms were straight, I dared to hope that I had the strength for a second. I was shaking fit to bust and it took me twice as long as the first time but somehow I willed myself to the top. Now for part two.

Throwing my head back, I tensed my abdominals and began drawing my knees upwards. It was a terrible effort with that bag at my ankles but I knew that I could force my stomach muscles to do it, I was determined not to give up. Of course it helped that lovely waves of pleasure were radiating out from the pit of my stomach. Part of the way up, I raised my head and looked at Bill. He was staring at my body, his face pale, his head shaking from side to side very slowly, as if he was denying what his eyes were telling him.

With a final enormous effort, I brought my thighs to the horizontal and held them there. I wanted to keep my body like that, coiled tight like a spring, for as long as I could. The ache in my arms was increasing by the second and my belly felt like it had been worked over by Mike Tyson but I wasn't ready to give in that easily. I was already gasping with the strain and increasingly shaking but now I began to whimper. I looked at the mirror and was amazed to see the definition of my own abdominal muscles. My breasts were wobbling alarmingly now, looking like they could escape the tight bikini top at any moment. Despite the cold, they and other parts of my body were peppered with perspiration. I looked again at Bill to see his reaction to this sight and saw that he was in the middle of an orgasm.

With the intense pleasure emanating from my core, coupled with the realisation that I had induced an orgasm in Bill, I felt myself accelerating towards a climax. I wanted to fight it off until the last possible moment, to see how long I could force my exhausted muscles to obey me. The very idea of that turned me on even more, so it was only a few seconds later that I was hit by the most powerful orgasm of my life. My arms had been starting to unbend at that point but suddenly every muscle in my body seemed to contract powerfully as an explosion of ecstasy hit my brain. As I emerged from it, I realised that I'd lifted the cement bag much higher, my knees were pressing my breasts even further upwards and I had pulled up so far that the bar was pressing quite deeply into the top of them. With a growl of determination, I fought to maintain that position, helped by the wonderful sensations now coming from my squeezed breasts. I was crying out with effort and fighting with all my remaining strength and endurance to assert my will against gravity and my own exhaustion. My abs and biceps were hurting terribly. I fought valiantly all the way down, until I hung stretched out and sobbing a full minute later.

Even my eyelids felt tired and heavy as I opened them and refocused until I could see Bill. "That" he said eventually, "was the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

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"Hurry!" I managed to gasp, "My grip is beginning to weaken. Put another cement bag on."

He was clearly shocked. Then a wry smile appeared. "You are joking, right?"

"Another." I repeated impatiently. The smile disappeared. Speechless but shaking his head, Bill dragged himself to his feet and stumbled over to the stack of cement bags. He looked tired. With much grunting, He heaved the second 50kg sack on top of the first one. I couldn't help but throw my head back and cry out at the shock of it, as the load doubled. Somehow I managed to hang onto the bar as the weight tugged through my hypersensitive belly and I felt my skin stretching delightfully over my taut muscles. I saw stars for a few seconds, then as they faded I turned to regard myself in the mirror.

I'd never seen my body looking like that! Totally extended, I looked appreciably taller than my usual 5 foot zero height. Most of the extra inches seemed to come between my lower ribs and my hips; my waist was even thinner than usual. I could no longer see my navel, it was hiding somewhere in the long, deep valley between my abs. My ribs blanched the yellowish skin of my chest as they bowed out against it. My breasts were lifted so high that they had almost come out of the bikini top and were just inches from my chin. They rose and fell with my rapid breathing.

I looked at Bill, who gazed with a mixture of disbelief and admiration at my body. I had only a minute left, tops, before my grip would fail. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Bill would probably enjoy this too, I thought, which made me smile. With a difficulty that surprised me, I spoke: "I can't raise my legs, with all this weight, and I can't do a pull-up - but I'm going to try my hardest to do both at once!"

As soon as I started, waves of intense pleasure swept through me. The strain was terrific but I pushed myself harder and harder, my abdominal muscles and biceps screaming for mercy as I felt another huge orgasm rushing towards me. "More, more!" I ordered myself, then realised that I was screaming it aloud. I managed to force my eyes open for a look in the mirror and was amazed to see that both my arms and legs were actually bent, between them they had raised the weight about a foot! I was shaking terribly but determined to push myself to the maximum. I threw my head back again and screamed as I threw absolutely everything I had into one last, enormous effort, then the massive orgasm came.

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Next thing I knew, I was coming round, a concerned Bill stooping beside me and firing questions. I was lying in the inspection pit. “I'm okay, I think." I re-assured him, with a smile. Wow, I had been lucky not to bash my head on the edge of the pit when I fell. Bill had already untied my ankle rope. I tested my limbs, which were tired but working well enough. Bill helped me out of the pit and we sat down on its chilly edge.

"I really can't believe how strong you are," he was saying, "how long you managed to hang onto that bar and what a beautiful body you have."

"Well, I suppose I may be a bit stronger than I thought,” I said, "but not much stronger than the average girl, I'm sure. As for beautiful, my body's all disproportionate, my waist is too skinny, my breasts are too big. My belly is not smooth like other girls' its all lumpy with muscles and my thighs are too curved. My upper arms are too big. Don't you prefer a white girl's skin colour to mine?"

"No, no, I think Asian girls are more attractive than most - and you are a very beautiful one. As for all the things you said about your body, I don't agree with any of it, in my eyes you are almost perfect, very sexy. Your arms are very nicely proportioned. I don't like these so-called supermodels with their stick-like arms and legs. Arms are no more supposed to be the same thickness all the way up than legs are.” I was beginning to shiver with the cold again. "Well then," I said quickly, "let's get back to it, I want to see how far I can go."

"But..." For a moment Bill seemed lost for words, then he found some. "But you almost hurt yourself, I don't want you to ..."

"What if we make sure I can't fall this time?" I interjected, getting up and starting to retrieve one of the cement sacks from the pit. Bill also jumped up and, seeing that I was able to deal with the bag unaided, respectfully began to tackle the other one, trying in vain to make it look easy. I dumped the bag back on the stack, walked to one of the garage shelves and began rummaging through a box of rags, whilst Bill still struggled with his bag. "If you tie my wrists to the bar, I'll be safe." I pointed out.

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Moments later, I was standing on a stool with my wrists bound tightly to the bar. I stepped off and dangled over the pit, testing my bonds for security and comfort. I must admit that I felt a thrill, I was now pretty helpless and alone with this guy whom I didn't really know very well. He was a pretty big guy too, well over six foot and pretty solid, he must have weighed about 100 kilos. Still, I wasn't very worried, he seemed pretty decent and quite concerned for my well-being. I asked him to tie my ankles together and suspend the platform from them, as before.

Eagerly, he loaded first one, then two bags of cement onto the platform. I began to realise that we should have left them nearer the pit, one by one, poor Bill had to stagger all the way across the room with them again. I was pleasantly surprised that the wrist straps were not more uncomfortable; sure, they hurt with all that weight but not unbearably so. I closed my eyes and absorbed the exquisite stretching feeling for a few moments, then opened them and enjoyed the sight of my stretched body in the mirror. I glanced at Bill and my grin broadened; his obvious pleasure at what he saw was boosting my enjoyment.

I felt really stretched, but knew I could take more. How much more, though? One bag of bricks? Two? Another 50kg? As soon as I considered it, I knew I had to go straight for a third cement sack. I was becoming so excited by the idea, I could feel a thrill propagate through me from head to toe. All caution evaporated.

"Another sack, Bill!" I called, trying not to sound as desperate as I was to be even more stretched. Bill was starting to get used to my crazy requests and didn't argue, his eyes just widened and he smiled in anticipation as he heaved yet one more sack towards me. He tried to lower it gently onto the others but the weight made it difficult. I couldn’t help but scream as a mixture of pain and pleasure flooded my body. I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror, blinking back the tears that were forming.

I'd thought I couldn't look more stretched than when I was weighed down by two bags. I was wrong. I had always wanted to be taller and now I literally was, my body appeared to be some four inches longer! My ribs were nearly all visible, showing white through stretched, goose pimpled skin and my abdomen was cavernous. My abdominal muscles were really bulging out of the stretched skin and the deep vertical groove extended all the way from my sternum into to my bikini bottoms. I could see tendons standing out on my arms and legs. My breasts, erect nipples beginning to emerge above the bikini top, were almost touching my chin. I didn't care, though, all I could think about was the ecstatic feelings in my breasts and belly. I could feel my juices being squeezed from my body. I was groaning loudly and hoarsely, then I heard myself saying "Get on!"

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My mind was swimming, it took a few moments to realise what I'd said, and a few more to properly understand what it meant. I looked at Bill and saw the strange gleam in his eye as he got to his feet. Later, he told me that he was so amazed and turned on by my seemingly limitless display of strength that he had come to accept that I could handle anything. He didn't doubt for a moment that I could withstand his 100kg on top of the 150kg that already stretched me out. Overwhelmed with desire, I was in a blind haze of ecstasy and lust and quite incapable of telling him to stop. I just longed for more; more weight, more stretching, more pleasure, and damn the consequences.

Bill stepped onto the platform and in an instant increased the weight on my body to a quarter tonne. I screamed three times, my chest heaving and my head thrown right back; the pain in my wrists and ankles was intense but it was almost immediately overwhelmed by the gorgeous sensations I felt, as my body was stretched more than ever before. I had an instant orgasm and felt myself immediately building for another. My abdominal muscles felt like thick rubber bands being slowly stretched to their breaking point. It was as if dozens of strong hands were pulling at all of my abs, their fingers digging into the crevices between them and trying to prise them apart. I could actually feel my waist thinning and had a brief vision of my body being torn in half! The second orgasm hit, I heard myself making hoarse, guttural sounds like some kind of animal, then the next orgasm started to approach. My thighs and belly were tingling and my breasts felt like they were about to burst with pleasure. I suddenly realised that I was struggling to breathe; it felt as if my ribcage had a sumo wrestler sitting on top of it, I had to make a real effort to suck in air and even then could only manage shallow, rapid breaths. My whole body was shaking with the terrible strain as the third orgasm hit me like an express train.

I managed to force my eyes open. Bob was standing right in front of me, holding onto my elbows to balance himself. His arms were nearly straight, he was leaning slightly backwards so that he could get a good view of me and his expression was one of astonishment. I turned my head to look in the mirror and I could see myself clearly from top to toe. I was shocked by what I saw.

My breasts had burst out of the bikini, the nipples were more thick and erect than I'd ever seen them, standing up on either side of my cheeks and pointing directly at the ceiling. They were heaving up and down rapidly as I fought to breathe. Bill was staring at them, his eyes popping and his jaw sagging deeply. My armpits were cavernous, my shoulders and neck a mass of writhing tendons and my arms were unmistakably longer than usual. My ribs were all strikingly visible and looked like they were about to burst from my heaving chest at any moment, the white skin over them stretched paper-thin. My waist was shockingly narrowed, my abdomen so concave that big gaps had appeared between the top of my panties and my lower belly, either side of a thick, double, central cord of bulging, straining muscle. The gap between my jutting ribs and hips was frightening. I began to panic that something in my body would snap or tear or burst at any moment, yet I was still overwhelmed by the intoxicating waves of pleasure coursing through it and I didn’t want to stop. I could hear myself screaming, I'd thrown my head back again and I was shuddering violently as the fourth orgasm in a row crashed into me and my whole body stiffened with powerfully straining muscles.

Suddenly through my overloaded senses, came a strange sound, like a motor, then a blinding light. Blinking over Bill's shoulder, I could just make out, through the opening garage door, the sight of my parents hurriedly climbing out of their car...

Atastretch
August 2018