by L J K Cross
Even if Steve had dared to, he really didn’t want to share the bread anyway. He was just content to sit and watch Amanda enjoy herself. She had suffered enough these past few months and now it was time for her to relax and reap her reward. It was suffice to say that his reward was having the Amanda he knew and loved back. He had missed her.
The waiter really had his work cut out tonight. Amanda worked her way through the Buffalo wing starter in record time; tearing, sucking and licking with lip smacking gusto until both her fingers and the plate were cleaner than when she started. She then moved on to helping Steve with his plate, impatient for the next course to arrive. It was either his chicken Fajitas or the stubs of her already mangled nails, which would bear the brunt of her avaricious rampage. As she waited for her main course the effect of her binge was already beginning to take its hold on her dieted body. Her stomach felt stretched and swollen, uncomfortably so. Her eyes and body felt heavy and drowsy, contentedly so, as she wobbled and wavered on the brink of belly flopping into a coma of nourished contentment. In the last few weeks her cravings had brought such vivid hallucinations of forbidden foods that Amanda felt she might go insane. The only thing that had kept her lucid was the thought of biting into a juicy, tender steak, still pink on the inside and dripping in blood. So it was a sheer bitter twist of irony that as the steak arrived she no longer felt hungry. It no longer looked anywhere near as appetising as she had imagined. Indeed after the first few mouthfuls of steak it became more and more of a chore to force down the remains of the meal. Inevitably after several months of harsh dieting her eyes had proved bigger than her belly.
“I really don’t think I could eat another mouthful,” said Amanda as she collapsed back in her seat, holding her stomach, afraid it might explode. “It seems such a waste. Considering how hungry I was I thought I would have sent the plate back to the kitchen so clean they wouldn’t have needed to wash it.”
“Did you enjoy it though baby?” asked Steve as he lovingly reached out and took hold of her hand.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” gushed Amanda, squeezing his hand gently as if to emphasise the point.
“So you couldn’t be tempted with dessert then?” asked Steve teasingly.
Amanda groaned and slumped further in her seat.
“To be sick or not to be sick? That is the question,” she pondered. She really felt that to eat anymore would be pure gluttony but it was just so tempting.
Having to make a decision straight away was delayed as two women had approached the table. Just by looking at them, Amanda could tell that they both trained hard which inevitably made her warm to them. There was always an instant connection between female bodybuilders that went beyond having training in common. They got each other. Kindred spirits.
“We are so sorry to interrupt you when you are eating but we didn’t want to leave without coming over and speaking to you. We are both huge fans of yours,” gushed the shorter of the two women. “We will definitely be there in the audience at the Worlds rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” replied Amanda. After all this time she still found it difficult to take compliments and never knew what to say in response. She usually found that smiling and changing the subject was the best way to mask her embarrassment.
“You both look like you could be up on stage with me and give me a run for my money.”
“I bloody wish,” quipped the shorter girl again. “I would kill to have a physique that was at least half as good as yours.”
Her eyes slowly and deliberately took in Amanda’s physique. Her sentiment was genuine. Her admiration was absolute. Amanda inadvertently looked her up and down at the same time, noting the width of her delts and the deep striations across her chest that seemed to twitch and tense as she spoke. A muscular morse code that called out and grabbed your attention. That was the thing about muscle. Even when you were used to seeing it, it still managed to fascinate and intrigue. You just couldn’t help yourself so it was no wonder that people stopped dead in the street or screeched their cars to a halt to crane their necks and stare. If they had never seen a female body builder before it must be bewildering, baffling even.
“Well you both look fantastic,” continued Amanda. “Do either of you compete?”
“I did the Canadian Nationals last year.” This time it was the taller brunette who spoke. Her voice was gentle and soft and in complete contrast to her hard, taut muscle.
“How did you do?” asked Amanda with genuine interest.
“I came fourth which I suppose wasn’t bad for my first year of competition,” shrugged the brunette, not quite managing to hide her disappointment.
“So I am taking this year out to work on my weak areas and plan on doing the Nationals again next year. I’m still working on Abi here though,” nodding to her friend” and trying to convince her that she should compete.”
“You should. I think you would do really well,” agreed Amanda. Of the two of them, even though Abi was by far the shorter, in spite of the killer heels and the shock of cherry red hair piled up high on top of her head; she had much better symmetry and shape. Whereas the tall brunette was all shoulders and chest but really lacked when it came to legs, Abi’s legs were as developed as her upper body. Her quads hung precariously over her kneecaps at angles that seemed to defy gravity and her lats appeared to disappear into a minuscule, almost invisible waist. That was the one thing Amanda always maintained about female bodybuilding. Each physique was so different and unique, individual testaments to dedication and perspiration that were so difficult to compare. The competition therefore wasn’t against each other but against yourself.
“She really should compete,” thought Amanda.
“Well if one day I could be anywhere near as good as you I will be happy,” exclaimed Abi. “It is my dream to come here and stand on the Worlds stage.”
Amanda smiled. It was only as she allowed those words to sink in that it finally dawned on her that it was also her dream and she was living it. She had been so focused on her preparation that she had quite forgotten to step back, soak up the experience and enjoy it.
“Amanda. Did you hear what I said?” asked Steve, slightly alarmed. She hadn’t heard a word. “Are you alright?”
She went to nod but her head felt so heavy that she could hardly move it. She went to speak but she was having trouble making her mind and mouth work in unison.
“I’m fine,” she garbled “I’m just feeling really drowsy from the meal.” That was what she had intended to say but instead she heard herself saying something along the lines of “Am jyzz fin ridwasy frumill.” The looks on the girl’s faces confirmed they were just as confused as her words. After months of being on such a restricted diet, having such a calorie rich meal had sent the body into shock. With each passing minute she could feel her body relax and relinquish itself to the carb coma that was gradually engulfing her.
They hastily bid farewell to the two girls with a vague promise of possibly seeing them again after the show. Not that Amanda would remember having promised any such thing come the next morning. They had no time nor care to order dessert to go. It was only through sheer will power and having Steve to guide her that Amanda managed to somehow make it back to the lift. With every floor the lift ascended, she descended further into slumber. By the time they reached their room and she had walked the last few steps to bed, she was already dropping into the deepest depths of sleep, totally oblivious to Steve undressing her and tucking her in. Even when she was far, far away from him, he was still there to care for her and look after her.
Throughout the next day Amanda was not able to shake the hebetude of the previous night despite having had the best sleep she had had in ages. The entire day passed by in a semi-conscious blur as she holed herself away in her room to focus solely on preparing for the contest that lay ahead. At this stage, it was best to seclude oneself away and avoid any unwanted stresses or distractions. Preparation consisted of waking just long enough to eat, tan and
practice posing before stumbling back to bed again. Very little was able to permeate her stupor but Amanda was able to acknowledge that each time she posed and with each layer of tan that was applied, her cuts became deeper and her veins became more pronounced. She would return to bed content that everything was going to plan and drift off to sleep full of amorous appreciation for Steve.
CHAPTER 6
The day before Judgement Day had arrived. As Amanda rose that morning so did the feeling of lethargy that had weighed so heavily upon her over the previous days. Today she felt much more awake and alive. She could feel her body bubbling and fizzing with nervous apprehension but fortunately she had a busy day ahead to help contain her jitters and keep them simmering, ready for them to boil over at show time.
Even if she had still been feeling tired, the cold sharp slap of competition tan being applied to her bare skin, along with the stinging punch its chemical aroma delivered to the nose was enough to bring anyone swiftly to their senses. It was her fourth and penultimate layer of tan and already she was only a couple of shades lighter than if she had spent a year vacationing on the Sun. Steve was a little less endearing in his analogy. He compared it to creosoting his mother’s garden fence. Amanda had seen his mother’s garden fence. It was splintered, rickety and weather beaten. Just exactly what was he trying to say to her! She looked down at Steve as he was gingerly tanning the inside of her thigh. The tune he was whistling got faster the higher up her thigh he went. Well if that was the case she had never seen him this engaged creosoting his mother’s fence.
It took longer than usual to apply the layer of tan. Amanda was trying to get in as much water as possible before she had to stop drinking completely. 10am was her cut off point. Exactly twenty-four hours before prejudging. Turning round so that Steve could tan her back, she saw hanging up the long, white grecian style dress which she intended to wear to the athlete’s meeting that afternoon. She knew a lot of the girls would wear tracksuits to the meeting, preferring to keep the package they were bringing to the stage fully under wraps until the very last minute. Amanda just didn’t see the point in this. To her that suggested a certain lack of confidence and insecurity and that just wasn’t her way. Just like every girl she felt much better when she was dressed up but there was also a certain psychology in exuding such self-possession that put your competitors on the back foot. As far as Amanda was concerned as soon as she left the room she was being judged and every chance to impress mattered. Not only would the judges be there taking mental notes, but also fans and photographers would be in amongst the frenzy that was inevitably whipped up when a group of female body builders got together.
As soon as Amanda put the dress on and felt it’s elegant lines cascade across her curves, she immediately felt regal and refined. The white of the dress accentuated her tan, which in turn made her muscles appear even more prominent and pronounced. Indeed the beauty of the dress was that it acted as a blank canvas upon which to display the elegance of her muscles.
“I love that dress,” enthused Steve “and I love it even more with you in it. You look sensational.”
“You don’t scrub up too bad yourself,” said Amanda, giving him an approving look up and down.
“I almost wish we didn’t have to go and do this and could go for a night on the town. I can’t remember the last time we got dressed up like this. It seems a shame to waste it.”
She was right. She spent most of her time in training gear, holed up in a grimy dungeon of a gym. That was her natural habitat. That was where she felt most comfortable. So it was inevitable that when that one time of the year came around and she was suddenly thrust into the spotlight it took a bit of getting used to.
Stepping into the lift to go down to the meeting, Amanda mentally commanded herself to take a deep breath and smile. She kept reassuring herself that no one would be able to hear how hard and fast her heart was racing or how sweaty her palms were.
The room where they were holding the athlete’s meeting looked to all intents and purpose like a casting call for Red Sonia. It was a rarity to see so much female muscle jostled in one place. Everywhere you looked were bronzed, buff Amazonians; all stupefyingly wide delts that delved deep into panoramically landscaped backs. It was a sight to behold. Right there in that room was a whole Kleenex box worth of wet dreams for any fan of female muscle. And yet Amanda’s entrance among all that world-class muscle still caused a stir. As soon as she walked in the room, heads turned, eyebrows were raised and a mild pandemonium ensued. If Amanda had been feeling apprehensive beforehand, then the blitzkrieg of photographer’s flashes that dazed and blinded her as she entered was enough to blast away any remnants of inner calm she might have left.
“Amanda, over here,” bellowed one photographer, as she turned in his direction to give her signature relaxed lat spread pose. As she did she felt the seams of her dress straining under duress.
“Amanda. Amanda, give us a double bicep,” shouted another and she obliged.
“Can we have a peek at your quads?” urged another cheekily. She pretended not to hear. That was exactly the reason why she had chosen to wear a long dress. Her legs had always been one of her best body parts. In the past they had been described as “mesmerizing” and ‘jaw dropping” but she hoped that after a year of gut wrenching leg training sessions, that had often had her throwing up on the gym floor because her legs just refused to carry her to the toilet, they would come to be described as “World winning.” Her intention was that when the judges caught sight of the ridiculous detail of her teardrop and feasted their eyes on the depth of the striations in her glutes then the contest would be as good as over.
Amanda flexed, posed and pouted in front of the photographers for well over ten minutes before they were willing to let her go. Somehow in that time she had also been cajoled into promising to give several interviews to bodybuilding websites which she was already beginning to regret. She hated watching herself be interviewed and she hated hearing herself be interviewed even more.
The art of warfare had begun. Walking towards where the other competitors were seated Amanda felt herself come under attack from the hail of hostile looks that were thrown her way. Segregated from one another and hidden behind their armies of entourages, they looked viperous and ready to attack. As Amanda walked amongst them it felt like enemy territory and so she remained vigilant and on her guard. As the winner of the recent Amazon Classic and one of the favourites to knock the reigning Ms World Body Builder off her throne, it was inevitable that she would be the target of some competitor’s animosity. In amongst the trenches though Amanda was able to see one raised white flag, albeit the very tanned hand of fellow competitor, Tanya Steffen, signaling furiously in her direction.
She and Tanya had first met several years ago when they had competed against each other at the Women’s amateur World Championships in Novi Sad. Standing next to each other backstage they had nervously smiled at the fact that they were wearing more or less matching pink bikinis and had given each other the thumbs up before walking out on stage. After the show, Amanda had ventured to break the ice with what could only be described as an atrocious attempt to speak German.
“Du bist sehr gut,” stuttered Amanda and reinforced the point with a goofy grin.
“You are also very good,” replied Tanya, in fluent English, with hardly a trace of an accent. “And I thought your posing routine was really quite excellent.”
Amanda had remembered thinking, “Bloody hell. She sounds more English than me. How embarrassing.”
It was fortunate that Tanya was so fluent, as Amanda’s recollection of the German she had learnt at school was limited to say the least. Bizarrely the only two phrases that sprung to mind were,
Ich liebe schaufenster bummel gegehen and Herr Ober. Ich habe eine fleige in meine suppe.
So unless she liked window-shopping or she wanted to complain about having a fly in her soup, then their conversation would have looked more like a mad cap Monty Python sketc
h. Fortunately that wasn’t the case. That night Tanya had invited her to sit on the German team’s table at the celebratory dinner. Amanda recalled that someone on their table had smuggled in a crate load of Serbian beer, which was apparently pretty damn strong, even by German standards. As the night wore on their friendship had been cemented over an endless round of toasts and the German’s insisting Amanda teach them every single English swear word she could think of. John Cleese would have had a field day.
“Great to see you. You look fantastic,” said Tanya warmly as she rose from her seat to give Amanda a crushing hug.
“Thanks,” gasped Amanda, recovering her breath. “I could say exactly the same to you. I don’t think I have ever seen you so shredded.” It was true. Tanya was in much better condition than she had been when Amanda beat her at the amateur World Championships. Realisation hit her that this was going to be her toughest competition to date. Everyone was going all out to win. Now the nerves really were starting to kick in.
Looking past Tanya, she saw that sitting next to Tanya was Larissa Nunes, Brazil’s top female body builder, known for her jaw dropping Brazilian butt. Amanda and Larissa had competed against each other only recently at the Amazon Classic but had never gotten much further than introductions due to the language barrier. Fortunately Tanya was also conversant in Portuguese. She made you sick.
“So it looks like your prep went well,” continued Amanda, the incredulous look on her face conveying just how impressed she was at Tanya’s condition.
“Yes. I am really happy. I got a new coach and he made some big changes,” beamed Tanya.
“I dieted a lot longer this time,” added Tanya. “I feel like I have been dieting forever.”
