The huge sugar baby

It was just another lazy Sunday morning. Claire rolled over, her eyes still heavy with sleep, to find Tristan's side of the bed empty. Typical.

She finally forced herself up with a groan and shuffled into the living room. There he was, hunched over his laptop at the dining table, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Don't you ever unplug?" Claire muttered, grabbing a cup of coffee.

Tristan barely looked up. "Markets don't sleep, babe."

Claire shook her head. Of course - checking his precious cryptocurrency portfolios yet again. She swore that obsession of his would be the death of her one day.

Tristan's ridiculous Bitcoin luck was still hard for Claire to wrap her head around sometimes. Back in college, his weird roommate Jake had badgered him relentlessly to invest his measly savings into this crazy new "internet money" called Bitcoin. Most people just laughed it off as a passing fad, but not Jake. He was convinced it was the future of finance.

Tristan eventually caved just to get Jake off his back, halfheartedly tossing $1000 towards Bitcoin when each coin was practically worthless. Little did he know, that small investment would one day make him a multi-millionaire.

A few years later, Bitcoin's value utterly exploded. Jake, smug as ever, had cashed out his modest holdings for a nice windfall. But Tristan? He just...forgot about his ancient digital wallet, letting his coins gather virtual dust as the cryptocurrency craze took over. It wasn't until after graduating that Tristan even remembered his accidental multi-million dollar Bitcoin fortune. Beginner's luck of the highest degree.

Claire sipped her coffee, eyeing Tristan over the rim of the mug as he remained glued to his trading terminal. He was so absorbed in monitoring every flutter of the crypto markets, chasing that adrenaline rush of riding the market waves. At least he had the funds to secure his habit now.

"Earth to Tristan?" Claire waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Remember me, your actual girlfriend?"

He blinked, suddenly snapping back to reality. "Oh! Yeah, hey babe. Sorry, just keeping an eye on things."

"More like strangling the life out of them," Claire countered with a smirk. "You're gonna have an aneurysm fixating over those stupid coins all day."

Tristan laughed, stretching back in his chair. Even in his mid-fifties, he still looked like an overgrown kid who stumbled into an idiotic fortune.

Claire rolled her eyes at his spiel, approaching him and massaging his strong shoulders.

As insufferable as his crypto blathering could be, it was hard to argue with the results of Tristan's accidental investment. All that money, the life of idleness...it was tempting to just shut up and enjoy it.

But there was always a lingering thought gnawing at Claire. A concern that maybe she was just arm candy to this millionaire twice her age. Tristan insisted her looks and personality were the real prize, but she could never fully silence those doubts.

In their world of endless dating options and wealth to attract any young beauty, what was keeping Tristan truly faithful? Claire's beauty wouldn't last forever. One day he could easily trade her in for a newer, younger model when the wrinkles set in.

She had to work relentlessly to remain his object of desire. That meant gruelling workouts, lavish salon visits, maybe even exploring surgical nip-and-tucks to maintain her youthful appeal. Anything to keep Tristan's wandering eyes locked on her and only her.

That nagging insecurity was only amplified by the snide remarks and judgments from her friends. They insisted she was just a naive sugar baby letting this old man live out his sugar daddy fantasies.

There might be some truth to their words, but Claire really did have feelings for Tristan, sure the money helped, but she was attracted to him... she thought.

After their intense morning workouts, Claire met up with her friend Janine at the juice bar as they always did. Janine was a few years older but in a similar situation - dating a wealthy, older businessman.

"So," Claire said between sips of her kale smoothie, "I wanted to ask your opinion on something..."

Janine raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, what's up?"

Claire glanced around nervously before leaning in. "You know how you had some...work done a few years back?"

"The lipo and boob job?" Janine smirked. "You finally thinking of going under the knife too?"

"Maybe?" Claire grimaced. "I don't know, I'm just...I'm scared of losing my looks, you know? Tristan's loaded and could easily replace me with some 20-year-old swimsuit model once I get old and saggy."

Janine rolled her eyes. "Ugh, men. They're all the same - chasing the youngest piece of ass they can find until their dicks stop working."

"Right??" Claire threw her hands up. "I need to do whatever I can to maintain this bod if I want to hang onto him. A few...enhancements could go a long way."

"Well, I'm living proof that a little cosmetic surgery can work wonders," Janine replied with a wink. "I'll hook you up with my doctor's info."

The idea of going under the knife still made Claire anxious. It was a big life decision that could have major ramifications, both physical and financial. Not to mention the stigma attached to excessive plastic surgery.

But her self-consciousness about aging nagged at her relentlessly in the back of her mind. She knew she needed to take action to preserve her youthful looks if she wanted to remain Tristan's object of desire.

Those insecurities only grew stronger a few weeks later when Claire arrived home from yoga class to find a young, attractive delivery woman standing a little too close to Tristan for comfort.

"Just set those boxes over there," Tristan said, barely acknowledging the flirtatious grin and body language coming from the woman as she handed him his packages.

Claire narrowed her eyes from the doorway. Was this bottle-blonde bombshell really making moves on her man right in front of her? The audacity of this bitch, she thought.

Clearly Tristan was too oblivious to even pick up on the subtle advances. But it still stoked the burning pit of jealousy in Claire's gut to witness somebody so blatantly trying to poach her territory.

That was it - she couldn't procrastinate on this any longer. First thing tomorrow, she was calling the cosmetic surgeon Janine recommended to schedule a full body remodel. She needed breast implants, a face lift, nose reshaping, whatever it took to keep herself the youngest, firmest, hottest version possible.

If nipping and tucking every saggy inch was what it took to remain Tristan's prized trophy for years to come, then so be it. She wouldn't let some flirty bimbo delivery girl get the best of her. This was war.

The next morning, Claire was on the phone with the cosmetic surgeon's secretary, trying to book her initial consultation appointment while also making avocado toast.

"Did you have a particular date in mind, Ms. Stevens?" the pleasant receptionist asked over the line.

Claire opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of the TV news report playing in the living room. Her head turned towards the noise as the newscaster's voice caught her attention.

"...reports are coming in of a highly strange virus rapidly spreading across the globe. While details are still limited, this appears to be causing a massive physiological change in those infected."

A frown creased Claire's face as she moved closer to the TV. A virus making people physically change? That didn't sound good.

"We're going now to Jeremy, who is live on the scene in Boston where some of the first cases have emerged," the newscaster continued as the footage cut to a reporter out on a city street.

"Thanks Sarah," the field reporter named Jeremy began. "I'm here outside the Godfrey Hotel, where just minutes ago, an enormous commotion erupted as...well, see for yourself."

The camera panned over to capture a jaw-dropping sight - an incredibly muscular, giant of a woman easily over 7 feet tall looking dazed and confused, surrounded by a crowd of shocked onlookers.

Claire's eyes went wide, her avocado toast slipping from her fingers and splattering onto the kitchen floor. This woman was bigger than even the hugest bodybuilders from her gym, sporting shredded, vascular muscles that looked almost impossibly large for a female frame.

"What in the world..." Claire whispered, utterly transfixed by the bizarre scene unfolding on the TV.

"As you can see, this woman's physique has undergone a startling, extreme muscular transformation in a matter of a few days according to her," Jeremy narrated with an astonished tone. "Extraordinary size and muscularity, appearing to have grown at least two feet in height based on her previous stature."

The camera briefly panned to capture the stunned looks on the bystanders' faces, seemingly just as dumbfounded as Claire felt watching at home. This had to be some sort of bad prank or hoax, right?

Before she could process what she was witnessing, Jeremy continued, "And unbelievably, new cases are surfacing as we speak of other women across the world also being afflicted by this very same condition, gaining unprecedented amounts of muscle mass in an extremely short timeframe."

The footage abruptly cut to shaky cellphone video showing another hugely buff, amazon woman in Tokyo, her mighty arms and chest absolutely dwarfing her normal-sized clothing.

Claire shook her head slowly, trying to make sense of the madness she was seeing. A virus...making women grow bigger and more muscular? It seemed utterly absurd and far-fetched. Yet the video evidence was right there.

"H-hello? Ms. Stevens?" The secretary's confused voice crackled through the phone, snapping Claire's attention back to reality. "Are you still there? Did you have a date for your consultation in mind or should I--"

"You know what?" Claire cut her off, eyes still glued to the screen in disbelief. "Let me call you back on this..."

She promptly ended the call and turned up the TV volume, trying to make sense of this incomprehensible phenomenon as more and more outrageous footage began rolling in from across the city.

Over the next couple of days, both Claire and Tristan found themselves utterly obsessed with the bizarre virus situation - though each dealt with it privately, secretly from the other.

Claire couldn't believe the footage and reports pouring in of women across the world rapidly swelling up with unprecedented amounts of muscle mass and height. Some of these newly created "Amazons" towered over 7 feet tall, sporting physiques that dwarfed even the largest male bodybuilders.

A part of her was equal parts awed and intimidated by their immense size and power. These weren't just toned or fit women - they were shredded titans, packed with vascular, striated muscle from head to toe. Almost...unnaturally muscular for the female form.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Claire, Tristan had been feverishly devouring any and all media he could find of these muscle-massed wonders. He'd always had a weakness for tall, athletic women which initially drew him to Claire. But this virus took that preference to a totally new, extreme level that was beyond even his wildest fantasies.

Tristan spent every spare minute watching footage, reading reports, and scouring social media for the latest clips and images of these transformed Amazonian women flexing their way through cities. It simultaneously terrified and aroused him in ways he didn't fully understand.

One morning, Claire prepared Tristan's breakfast on a tray to bring to his office as she often did. As she swung the door open, she caught a brief glimpse of him hurriedly closing a window on his computer while pulling his pajama pants back up.

Claire froze, trying her best to maintain a poker face despite the obvious implications dancing in her head. She set the tray down and quickly left without a word, deciding not to pry...for now.

That evening, the couple went out to one of their usual upscale dinner spots in an attempt to unwind and return to some sense of normalcy after the awkward morning incident.

As they waited for their meals, Claire decided to casually broach the subject in one of her trademark hypothetical scenarios she loved torturing Tristan with.

"So...say I woke up one morning transformed into a worm," she began matter-of-factly before taking a sip of wine. "Would you still love me and take care of me?"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Must you always go for the most dumb, weird hypotheticals possible?"

"Just answer the question," Claire smirked.

"Fine, yes, I would still love you even as a disgusting little worm," he sighed. "Happy now?"

"Ooh, what if I turned into one of those huge muscle Amazons instead?" Claire nodded over Tristan's shoulder at a tall, athletic woman walking by their table. "Like her, but even bigger...?"

Tristan couldn't help but turn his head, immediately locking eyes on the amazon woman Claire had referred to. She was indeed an impressive figure, surely she was on something or on her first week of growth from the virus.

"I - well, I mean..." Tristan stammered, his face going flush as Claire raised an eyebrow smugly. They both knew she had him cornered red-handed.

"You know I only have eyes for you, babe. Those women are...well, I mean..."

Lies. Claire had heard and seen all she needed to that morning. Her boyfriend had developed a definite fascination - perhaps even a sexual fixation - on these newly emerged Amazonian wonders dominating the news cycle.

She opened her mouth to debate further, but the waiter arrived with their entrees and the conversational thread got dropped. For now, at least. Claire had every intention of revisiting this topic very soon, one way or another.

Claire couldn't get the images and thoughts of those incredibly muscular, towering Amazon women out of her head after her conversation with Tristan the previous night. A part of her was repulsed and intimidated by their sheer mass...yet another part was captivated, almost envious of their newfound power and stature.

If Tristan was indeed developing some kind of fixation on these muscle-bound titans as she suspected, maybe there was a way she could use that to her advantage. Regain his undivided attention and desire by becoming one of them.

It was an utterly bizarre and risky idea, but Claire couldn't deny her curiosity was piqued. So the next morning, she woke up earlier than usual and headed out to her daily yoga class, determined to catch this mysterious virus one way or another.

Claire hugged and pressed herself up against every one of her yoga classmates upon arrival, maintaining extremely close personal contact under the guise of friendly greetings. She had no idea how this virus was truly transmitted, but figured extended proximity was her best shot.

After the class finished and everyone filed out, Claire pulled her friend Janine aside urgently. "Hey, why do you look taller?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Janine's eyes went wide as she nodded frantically. "think I might have caught the virus from the news, the fmg-35 virus, I think it was called"

Claire's jaw dropped in shock as she looked Janine up and down. Her classmate did indeed appear...taller, and bigger all around, more filled out than before in her skintight yoga attire. Subtly, but unmistakably.

"No way! You're already showing signs?" Claire fixated on the newfound definitionand mass peeking out on Janine's arms and legs.

"I mean, it's only been a day, but yeah!" Janine flexed one of her biceps proudly, the small but dense peak straining against her sleeve. "According to my scale, I packed on 10 pounds overnight. Can you believe that?"

In awe, Claire reached out and gave Janine's bulging quad a firm squeeze through her leggings. The dense, protrudingmuscle felt like a solid rock.

"Shit, you're not kidding..." Claire's mind reeled just trying to fathom what Janine's body was becoming. "This is nuts!"

"Right?? Can you imagine how crazy ripped I'll be in another day or two??"

Claire could barely process how rapid Janine was physically transforming.

"You...you have to tell me how you got infected!" Claire finally sputtered out, grabbing Janine's wrist. "I need to catch this virus too!"

Janine just shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, girl! I didn't even realise it happened until I literally ballooned up overnight."

She placed her hands on her wide hips and flashed a sly grin. "If I had to guess though, it probably had something to do with all the barhopping and Tinder randoms I've been entertaining lately. Can't imagine the massive amount of fluids I've exposed myself to recently!"

Claire grimaced at Janine's raunchy oversharing as her friend laughed harder. "Yeah, that's probably more than you wanted to know! Don't worry though, maybe if you continue hugging the girls from the class like you did earlier, this growth spurt will hit you soon too." Claire lowered her gaze embarrassed. "Yeah, don't think I didn't noticed your blatant try of getting too close to us!"

Despite Janine's crass attempt at reassurance, Claire couldn't deny she absolutely did crave being struck by this virus now, no matter how bizarre or terrifying the effects. Tristan's deepening obsession with over-muscularity made it clear - if she wanted to keep him hopelessly lusting and devoted to her, she needed to be transformed into one of those huge Amazons.

Shutting down the rational part of her brain warning this was a terrible idea, Claire hugged Janine tightly, pressing her face against her burgeoning cleavage and traps. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get my growth spurt soon too..."

With that, she planted a wet kiss on Janine's cheek and pulled away, turning on her heel to head home and start her own immersive "research" into these newly emerging wonders. If sheer proximity and body fluids were the keys to infection as Janine alluded to, Claire intended to make herself a prime target from here on out.

Two agonizingly slow weeks went by with no apparent signs that Claire had contracted the infamous muscle-growth virus, despite her efforts. She weighed herself anxiously every morning, desperate for even the slightest fluctuation that could hint at transformation beginning.

Until one fateful day, the digital scale displayed a number 10 pounds heavier than her regular weight.

Claire's heart leapt into her throat as she stared at the readout, scarcely able to believe her eyes. A giddy grin spread across her face as she fought back the urge to shout out in excitement.

"Honey? Everything okay over there?" Tristan's muffled voice called out from his office, obviously picking up on her spirited reaction.

Regaining her composure, Claire quickly tried to brush it off. "Oh! Yeah, no, everything's fine! Just saw one of my favourite brands is having a huge sale today."

"If you say so," Tristan chuckled, seemingly accepting her feeble excuse as he returned his focus to his work.

Claire exhaled in relief, reminded of the need to keep her newly acquired condition a secret...at least for now. She wanted to reveal her inevitable growth spurt on her own terms, to truly savour Tristan's reaction in the proper moment.

Over the following week, Claire made sure to wear looser, baggier clothing around the house and out in public to obscure the gradual changes already starting to affect her body. She could feel her muscles expanding gradually day-by-day, her limbs slightly thicker and heavier.

Before long, even billowing shirts and stretchy sweatpants weren't enough to conceal her transformation. Claire's clothing fit tighter and more restrictively than ever before as her frame unknowingly packed on more and more mass.

One afternoon, Tristan returned home from an indulgent weekend day on the golf course, still riding the high of fresh air and exercise. As soon as he stepped through the door and into the kitchen where Claire was preparing dinner, he couldn't resist delivering a playful smack to her doughy rear end.

"Ooh, someone's hard at wo--OWWW!!" Tristan yelped in surprise, violently recoiling his hand as if he'd just struck solid concrete instead of soft flesh.

Claire turned around with a coy smirk as Tristan shook out his sore hand, finally getting a good look at her for the first time in days. Even bent over, she seemed...bigger. Bulkier. More statuesque than the petite beauty she once was.

"Well well, look who can't keep their hands off the hot stuff," she teased, placing her hands on her swollen, muscular hips. "I guess all those double workout sessions are really paying off, huh?"

She watched Tristan's eyes trail up and down her unmistakable changed physique - powerful, vascular arms connected to thick shoulders, her enormous back flaring out obscenely in her tight tank top. Fuck, she was downright swole.

"Uh...yeah," was all Tristan could manage, seemingly at a loss for any other words as he took in the full extent of her transformation.

Which only amplified further when Claire slowly, dramatically stood up to her full, towering height.

Tristan's jaw dropped as he was forced to crane his neck back, just a little, to maintain eye contact with his girlfriend. She now loomed over 6'2" with her humble 5'11" frame completely dwarfed by her newfound Amazonian stature.

"Something...wrong?" Claire asked innocently, flexing one of her colossal arms in a ludicrously exaggerated double-bicep squeeze.

The rising swell of newly forged muscularity was glaringly apparent, the bulbous peaks easily rivaling that of bodybuilders Tristan had spent hours fawning over recently. A fact which certainly didn't escape his notice now that the source of his fixation towered before him in the flesh.

To Claire's delight, Tristan found himself completely frozen and disarmed, seemingly stunned beyond the capacity for words or excuses. She had dreamed about revealing her muscle growth in the perfect scenario...and here it was, more satisfying than she ever could have imagined.

A wicked grin spread across her full lips as she brought up her other arm, cramping both amenable biceps with veins etching across their daunting peaks. The message was clear - she was just getting started.

Claire's grin widened as she took a step forward and easily scooped Tristan up with one massively muscled arm. He let out a stunned yelp as his feet left the ground, suddenly cradled against her towering, powerful frame.

"W-what are you doing?" he sputtered out as Claire turned and started carrying him up the stairs with almost zero effort.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied with a sensual purr. "I'm giving you the up-close and personal experience you've been dreaming about lately."

She nudged open their bedroom door with her hip and tossed Tristan onto the mattress with contemptuous ease. He bounced slightly, eyes widened as Claire loomed over the bed, arms akimbo and chest puffed out.

"So tell me..." she said in a low, husky tone as she flexed a bicep bigger than Tristan's head. "Am I bigger than those pathetic little women you've been drooling over on your phone?"

Tristan swallowed hard, giving the barest nod. "Y-yes..."

A predatory smile crept across Claire's full lips as she watched Tristan's shaking hands start to unzip his pants. Of course, she had rendered him to such a submissive, quivering mess already. This was going to be too easy.

"Good boy," she cooed mockingly. "But we have some other business to take care of first..."

Tristan froze, his arousal suddenly tempered by confusion and concern. "W-what? What do you mean?"

"Well as you can see," Claire replied, grabbing two fistfuls of her shirt and tugging it tight across her immense, protruding chest. "None of my clothes can possibly contain all of...this anymore."

She spun around, flexing her back and shoulders as the fabric strained against her grotesquely muscularmass. "So I'll need to go on a bit of a shopping spree, get myself a whole new wardrobe that... properly fits my new size."

Turning back to face Tristan, she held out an expectant hand. "Which is why I'll be needing your credit card, dear husband."

He blinked dumbly for a moment, finally processing her demand. "Are...are you serious? You can't be--"

In a flash, Claire had Tristan pinned against the wall by his neck, his feet actually dangling off the floor as she lifted him up with just her one arm extended. She leaned in close, their noses almost touching as he gasped for air.

"Let's get one thing straight," she growled in a guttural tone. "I'm calling the shots around here now, not you. This is just week one of my growth and I'm already stronger than you can possibly comprehend."

To prove her point, she reached up and gave the arm restraining him a full squeeze, watching as the vascular peak swelled even larger and more freakish. Tristan's eyes went wide with terror.

"So unless you want me to get...bigger, I'd suggest keeping me happy and doing exactly as I say," Claire hissed the final words directly into his ear.

With that, she unceremoniously dropped Tristan onto the hardwood floor with a bone-jarring thud. He collapsed into a heap, wheezing and clutching his throat as Claire stood over him with a satisfied shrug.

"Now, where did you put your wallet this time?" She looked around the room casually. "I've got some serious shopping to do and I fully intend on draining every...last...cent from your accounts if need be."

Tristan didn't dare protest further as Claire located his discarded pants and removed his credit cards. With a dismissive look over her shoulder, she sauntered out of the room and headed outside, leaving a broken, disoriented shell of a man in her wake.

She had so much more in store for her former lover as her growth inevitably continued over the weeks and months to come. Tristan's deepest desires and darkest fantasies of earth-shaking muscle amazons were only just beginning.

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I hope you enjoyed this story. A little longer than usual but I really like the pacing and we leave the door open for a possible continuation. I have been a little busy lately but I have some news: The pricing for the patreon tiers is ready and I will publish it on a nice looking guide tomorrow, as well as the pricing of other services like commissions and image packs. Also, I published on DA the story from one of the images I uploaded here last week. you can read it on this post.

DA Post: https://www.deviantart.com/barucai/art/1062394897

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Grab the full res image from the attachment section of this post