Potentialli Pt. 04

On the way home, Sarah insisted that we stop at McDonald's and buy breakfast. She ordered five different meals, all with smoothies, finishing them all before we pulled into our driveway. I could have sworn she was another inch taller as we walked in the door.

She pulled me into a hug just inside the door. "I'm worried, Dan. What's going to happen to me?"

Yesterday, I had towered over her, my six-foot athletic frame over her five-foot-four average body. Now, we were almost eye to eye, and I could feel powerful muscles flexing in her back as I held her close. "You heard the doctor. It's going to be fine. Better than fine. Look at you. You already look incredible."

Indeed she did. Her capris strained at the shapely thighs and glutes, and her arms had started becoming thick and defined. Each time she moved, her biceps rippled like a fitness model's, and a clean line had developed between her shoulders and triceps. Her neck might have been the most impressive change: long and graceful, with a razor-sharp jawline. Her skin was completely free of any blemishes, and her salt-and-pepper hair had become mostly black once again.

"Dan, I have too many thoughts going through my brain. I need some time alone. Why don't you get some work done? I'm going to go upstairs and veg out for a bit."

On the way up the stairs, the back of her capris ripped apart. She stepped out of them, revealing the toned legs of a professional runner.

----

A few hours later, I went upstairs to check on her, but she wasn't in bed. She was sitting in our bedroom chair, completely naked, working on her laptop. Her breasts had grown to enormous proportions, while remaining firm and perky. Her shoulders and arms were now larger than mine, as large as a male bodybuilder's, though with a strong femininity that I had never seen before. Even sitting down, her abs were tight. Her fingers flew rapidly across her laptop's keyboard.

"All of my clothes felt too tight. Hope you don't mind. Have you ever day raded before?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Daytrading. Come on, with stocks? My mind wouldn't rest, and it seemed like fun. I withdrew some money from savings and opened an account."

"You what?! How much?"

"Ten thousand. It's pretty easy. Check it out."

She turned the computer screen toward me. Her account balance was over $120,000.

"Hold on - you made more than a hundred thousand dollars in profit, just in the past few hours?"

"What, like it's hard? It all just makes sense. It feels like a game on easy mode. One sec - there."

A bell rang and her balance jumped another fifty K.

"I've got an idea for a bot to automate this. I'm pretty sure I can write it tonight before the market opens tomorrow. God, this is so hot!"

She jumped out her chair, dropped the laptop on the chair, and grabbed me in a passionate kiss. She was now a few inches taller than me, and clearly stronger, too. I was surprised by her enthusiasm and tried to pull away, but it was like trying to pull away from a force of nature. She tore my shirt in half, pushed me onto the bed, and undid my belt and pants. She mounted me and began thrusting against the full length of my dick. Her pussy felt incredibly strong, every pulse pulling me deeper into her.

"Give me that magic dick! Don't you fucking come without my permission!" With one hand, she pinned my arms behind my head. With the other, she pushed against my chest, harder and harder. She moaned, then moaned even louder, her body seizing in ecstasy. I felt like a sex toy, completely under her control.

After her first orgasm, she slowed her pace. "May I come?" I asked. She just shook her head, then began to speed up again. She climaxed twice more, repeating the pattern, then simply nodded to give me her permission. I blacked out for a second from the force of my orgasm, then immediately fell asleep.

----

"Dan, Dan, wake up!" She shook me awake and waved her laptop screen in front of me. It looked like an iPad in her long, delicate fingers. The screen had a number that took me a minute to process.

"Ten million? How is that even possible? Wait, what time is it? I need to go to work."

"Babe, you can fucking quit. This shit is so easy. I'll have twenty times this much by next week. You never have to worry about money again. I'm taking care of us now."

Still exhausted and sore from her riding me, I rolled over and went back to sleep.

----

The next time I woke up, Sarah was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, just I had every morning. She looked like a living superhero, or a literal goddess.

She was easily six-foot-six, with a massively developed and muscular upper body that funneled into a tight, hourglass waist. Flowing raven hair ran down her back. Her arms dwarfed mine, hell, would have dwarfed a professional wrestler's. Each of her breasts was almost the size of my head. Her relatively tiny waist flared out into a heavenly dump truck of an ass, which flowed into the most perfect legs I had ever seen.

"Dan, have you ever seen anything so awe-inspiring?" Her voice resonated with a rich alto timbre. Somehow, I knew she would be able to sing anything perfectly. "My market automation is working even better than I expected. I'll be a billionaire by the end of the month, maybe even sooner. CNBC has scheduled an interview for tomorrow. They're calling me the Witch of Wall Street." She laughed and flexed her biceps.

"That's, that's amazing, Sarah. We can finally go on that European vacation you've always wanted."

She looked at me, and I knew something was wrong. "Oh, Dan. I've already bought an estate in Italy, and I'm moving there next week. You have been so good to me. I will never forget the gift of Potentialli that you gave me. But this just isn't going to work. You're holding me back. You're a beautiful little man, and I want to fuck you a few more times before I leave. You'll be better off without me. And I'm giving you half of my current net worth as of... now, so you'll never have to worry about money ever again."

My phone buzzed. A notification appeared. Sixty million dollars had just been transferred into my checking.

She cupped my face with one beautiful, majestic hand, and my ass with the other. She then effortlessly lifted me up and gently laid me in bed. "I know you're disappointed." She took my penis into her mouth, and felt like her tongue wrapped completely around. "Let me fuck you and make you forget everything."

----

Her CNBC interview catapulted her to instant fame. They had booked her sight unseen, and the business anchor was visibly starstruck by her overwhelming beauty. She was right that she became a billionaire even sooner than the end of the month, as she launched her own brokerage with dozens of celebrity clients. The next time I went to the grocery store, she was on the cover of half the checkout magazines. Bringing home that gorgeous man from the butcher counter and fucking him senseless barely put a dent in my disappointment.

Within a year, she was one of the richest people in America, and **the** richest just a year after that. PEOPLE changed its annual award to the Sexiest Person Alive. Dozens of online workout coaches promised to give you Sarah's arms, and steroids sales among women skyrocketed as huge muscles became the most desirable trait.

I went through a slut phase, though no one ever caught the Potentialli virus from me again. Sarah, though, bought an NBA team, and after a month, their star player went through a miraculous growth spurt from six-nine to seven-one. Soon, all of the players grew several inches, and the team set a new record for most wins in a season. Sarah won Executive of the Year and posed naked for a famous photo with the whole team, captioned "Sarah's Stable." She revealed in an interview that she slept with three or four of them each night.

Honestly, it became a little embarrassing. The most powerful men and women in the world regularly begged Sarah on live TV to sleep with them. There were rumors of massive parties, tickets costing in the millions, where she would select a handful of guests to come to her room. A few cable new commentators began mentioning her for a presidential run.

I tried to be depressed. I ate massive amounts of ice cream and chocolate, but it all went to my muscles. Eventually, I came to peace with it--"it" being that I was hotter than 99% of the planet, built like a linebacker, hung like a mule, and incredibly wealthy thanks to my financial genius ex-wife. Butcher Boy and I eventually formed a throuple with a very sexy woman I met in therapy--OK, it was my therapist. But that's a story for another day.