It had not been a good day for Irma Langinstein, secretary for Channel Six News and friend to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. First, she missed her daily bus ride to work and was unable to get a cab. After arriving late for work, she had to be lectured by her boss for not arriving on time. Next came the daily verbal abuse from co-worker Vernon for being a klutz and for not finishing tasks that he was suppose to do. Then, after after getting back from work to prepare for her long-awaited date with the cute guy in apartment 206, she gets a call from him to cancel due to 'reasons'. This whole day, Irma had been a victim of circumstances beyond her control and the frustration was building inside her. The last thing she needed was one more aggravation to push her to the breaking point. All she wanted was a simple trip to the ice cream shop to buy a gallon of Rocky Road to drown her sorrows and forget this day ever happened. Sadly, fate would offer one massive spoonful of grief onto her already full plate and it wasn't Rocky Road.
Unexpectedly, she found herself in the middle of a confrontation between the Turtles and their arch foes, the Shredder and his mutant henchmen, Beebop and Rocksteady. The Shredder had just obtained the last component to complete the second version of his Muta-Shooter ray gun. This mutagen-fueled device would increase the strength and mass of its intended target. The Shredder's intended target was going to be Rocksteady first. Unfortunately, Donatello knocked the Muta-Shooter out of the hands of the metallic menace. The gun went off as it struck the ground, sending a beam of energy towards the one person who didn't want to be there - Irma.
'Not again!' Cried Irma as the green energy bathed her body. This was not the first time she had been mutated against her will. Perhaps the worst was the time she was mutated into a human rat by some nutcase in tattered, dirty rags. What would become of her this time? Would she be shrunk down to the size of a mouse? Turned into a mutant hippo? Her question would soon be answered as she felt her body start to swell and expand. The experience was painful, like every fiber of her being was being yanked around in a taffy puller. Her veins began to pulsate while her muscles swelled and stretched underneath her taunt skin. The bones underneath cracked and reformed as they grew in mass and length. As Irma groaned in agony, her clothes began to tighten against her growing frame. Underneath her light blue sweater, her bra was being tested by her engorged pectorals and rising bosom. The back snapped off and was soon followed by the shoulder straps giving way. Her panties were stretched against her thickening gluts and hips, causing tiny rips in the delicate fabric. Down below, her expanding feet had caused her light brown loafers to burst open while her yellow socks were stretched to their limit. The threads broke and unraveled, exposing the bare feet to the cold NY concrete. Up above, her legs stretched longer as every muscle, from her calves to her thighs, gained greater girth and power. As the change continued to unfold, it was also taking its toll on Irma's mind. All the pent-up frustration and anger grew more intense inside her head, shutting out any rational thoughts that would temper her rage. It was becoming a storm of raw emotion looking for an outlet. Looking for something... someone to blame for her woes. And right in front of her, were four heroes in a half shell, a super villain, and his two grotesque lackeys. But, in her slowly warping mind, they were all her enemies.
Suddenly, Irma's body shuddered as the metamorphosis increased its efforts. The tremors she experienced caused her pink-rimmed eyeglasses to fall off her face and hit the ground. Her brown hair shock violently as it too grew along with her body, becoming longer and thicker. Any slack her light purple skirt and light blue sweater was used up on her growing figure. The fabric was becoming tighter like the skin on a drum. It could no longer hold back the onslaught of expanding muscle. The sides of her skirt split open, giving her thick, long legs the freedom needed to reach their potential. The shoulder seams on her shirt gave way to her exploding deltoids. The sleeves wrapped around her arms like sausage casing, only to tear apart from her bulging biceps and triceps. The rest of her shirt would soon give in to the assault of muscles as well. The bottom hem of the sweater rose upward, revealing a chiseled set of abs, as Irma's body gained more stature. The energized mutagen even had an effect on her bust-line, causing it to swell ten times from its former petite size. The pectoral muscles pushed her bosom forward and stretching the sweater fabric to the breaking point. A tear down the middle formed and grew larger, revealing more of her muscular beauty. The back of the sweater would follow suit after losing its battle with the growing muscles. Her hands, now much larger yet still retaining a feminine quality to them, balled up into fists that could crush a Foot Soldier squadron with one punch. She arched her back and emitted a deep roar that shocked the seven warriors before her to their very core.
The transformation had come to an end. The Turtles looked up at their former friend in both awe and shock. Shredder, Beebop, and Rocksteady did the same but slowly started to step away for a tactical retreat. Standing before them was someone who barely resembled the klutzy wallflower they once knew. What stood in her place was a woman of amazonian proportions. She towered over them at over 7 feet in height and packed with muscles that would put comic book superheroes to shame. She wore torn rags that once resembled a skirt and sweater. The former now resembled a loin cloth while the latter could barely contain her massive breasts and mountainous muscles. Even her white scrunchie was lost amid the mane of brown hair, thick as a jungle forest and just as untamed. What was more shocking was her face. It still retained some elements of her former self and its feminine qualities, but was masked by a glare of furious anger and a scowl to match. All that was left of Irma was blind rage and a drive to inflict as much damage to any and all who stood in her way. Her breathing was rapid. Her voice deep, husky, and filled with animal-like growls. In an attempt to alleviate the situation before it escalated, Donatello stepped forward and spoke to her calmly.
'Irma,' He said. 'It's me, Donnie. You're among friends. We're gonna fix this.'
The voice sounded familiar to her. She tried to say something but her eyes, now seeing more clearly than before the mutation, spotted the Shredder and his henchmen creeping away from the scene. She recognized the man who had hurt her many times before. Except, this time, she could do something other than cry for help.
'SHRED-HEAD MADE IRMA BIG! MAKE IRMA MAD!' She bellowed. 'NOW IRMA TURN SHRED-HEAD INTO SCRAP HEAP!'
In a split second, the amazing, colossal Irma reached for a parked VW Beetle, lifted it like it was an empty cardboard box, and held it over her head with intent to bring it crashing down on her enemy or anyone foolish enough to intervene.
Irma has suffered a very bad day. Now, all of New York was going to have a very bad day too.
Tags: female muscle, muscle growth, destruction, clothes ripping, TV
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Story by Chwen-Hoou |
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Artwork by SednaStudio-Seneca |
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