Month at the Gym (Commission for Iris/johnpm995)

Deciding to go to the gym was either the best idea she ever had or the worst one that her head had ever come up with. There was a certain amount of satisfaction that came with knowing that she was finally taking matters into her own hands and doing something about that scrawny beanpole she called a body, but suddenly immersing herself in a world almost entirely populated by muscular hunks that looked at her as if she was some sort of circus freak was… probably not the wisest move. Iris had convinced herself that she’d be able to look all those people in the eye and confidently tell them that she herself was only a few months of hard work and dedication away from being just like them, but emerging onto the main room and having everyone stare her down with barely concealed smirks made her self-esteem plummet faster than her BMI whenever she wasn’t actively trying to get fat… and failing at it terribly.

The first couple of weeks were spent under constant stress, with the other gym-goers doing their best to let the chameleon know that, while she was welcome to use the facilities, she would never be accepted by the rest of them in the sorry state her body was in; and while this caused no end of anxiety for the tiny lizard, she at least took some solace in knowing that, when it came to it, she’d have the ability to turn them down. Why would she ever hang out with people who treated her like crap just because she wasn’t taking shortcuts so she could flex her biceps and pretend to be a big, bad fighter who could take on all comers? Most of those idiots wouldn’t stand up to someone wielding a shoe as a weapon, much less any real threat; and this served as a sort of inspiration for her, oddly enough, the knowledge that, eventually, she would be big enough to be accepted and would have the opportunity to turn people down and assert her own superiority… she just wished it didn’t take so long.

As the two week mark passed and the chameleon entered the second half of the month, Iris began to notice something was definitely different about her. Not only was she waking up with a lot more energy than usual, courtesy of finally getting into the rhythm of regular physical exercise such that her muscles weren’t constantly crying in pain, but she felt more… powerful. Moving around became easier, stairs ceased to be a problem, lifting heavy boxes or the couch whenever she cleaned out her house was no longer a potentially dangerous chore. And while she took a while before noticing it, her clothes were definitely beginning to feel a lot tighter all over, enough that, on a couple of occasions, a particularly hard task at work would cause her to rip parts of them by the seams; that her coworkers also complimented her on how amazing she looked certainly helped, but ultimately it came down to one fateful occasion, one morning before work, for things to truly begin to change.

Iris got up from bed and practically crawled over to the bathroom, scratching herself through her pajamas and finding them to be unnaturally tight and stretched-out. It was only after accidentally dropping her toothbrush on the ground that the lizard noticed something was very right about that, since the moment she bent down to grab it, the shirt she was wearing was completely torn apart down the middle of her back, ending up in tatters hanging from her arms. Iris took a few moments to process what she was seeing, and even then wondered if it wasn’t just a particularly vivid dream she was having; it wasn’t until she brought a hand over to her back and noticed how much tight, well-defined musculature was clearly there that her face began to grow red, only worsened once she turned her head towards the mirror and got a good look at herself.

She was ripped, well and properly muscular, the kind of body she once openly fantasized about and kept plenty of records of in her personal computer. It struck her as odd that she was only just noticing it, but perhaps it was simply her brain filtering out the gradual change until something snapped it out of its funk; ripping apart her pajamas from how wide her shoulders and back had become seemed like a good candidate for that, and the more she admired herself, the more the chameleon came to understand that it was a miracle her clothes hadn’t burst out sooner. She was unable to resist the urge to flex her arms, biting her lips once she saw the amount of bulging veins on her biceps and just how hunky her new form was; it seemed almost like a dream, and if it weren’t for the flood of endorphins making her far happier than she’d ever been, Iris would’ve probably been able to put two and two together and realize something definitely was off about the whole thing. But, being the happy camper she was that morning, the lizard put on her loosest shirt and went to work, content in the knowledge that the day after, she’d be having a lot of fun flaunting her stuff to the other gym-goers.

Her shift, however, had different ideas, and not necessarily good ones. Only after trying to get her uniform on did Iris notice that it no longer fit, and no matter how hard she tried to pull it down over herself, it barely got halfway down her torso before it threatened to tear itself apart from the strain; if she didn’t know better, the chameleon would’ve sworn that her bust had grown as well, because at no point in her life did she remember looking down and actually seeing any appreciable curve to her breasts. Slightly panicked, Iris called for her manager and asked what she was supposed to do, only to receive a blank, confused stare when the older woman looked around the changing room, trying to find where her coworker had hidden the candid camera.

“What you… always do?” she ended up saying, appearing extremely confused, “You know the customers love staring at your abs, darling, why do you think we let you walk around like that?”

And with this entirely inappropriate comment, she turned around and walked away, leaving a very befuddled Iris to look down at herself and wonder if she wasn’t the one being pranked. Was this all just one long, confusing practical joke at her expense, meant to celebrate her accomplishments in bodybuilding? If so, then it was a… very odd one, considering their usual clientele; the food service industry wasn’t exactly that forgiving, or even remotely pleasant, and all it took was one person having a bad day and they’d be getting all sorts of complaints about uniform violations and indecent behaviour, neither of which were topics management even remotely appreciated having to deal with. Bereft of any other choice though, Iris sucked it up, put her cap on and walked out towards the counter, hoping the line of customers was feeling merciful that day.

And it was. More than merciful, in fact, downright deferential and uncharacteristically polite, not just to her but to everyone else. No one came back demanding for a refund over some asinine reason, not a single person asked to speak with her manager and, perhaps most surprisingly, there were no messes to clean up later; in fact, everyone that day walked up to leave their tray where it was supposed to go, many looking directly at her and offering a smile before dumping things into the rubbish bin, with Iris growing increasingly blushier as the day went on. It took several hours before she brought this up with her friends, at which point it was obvious they were in on the prank as well, when they pointed out that what happened was perfectly normal and people had “far too much respect” for Iris to make a mess of the establishment. That they maintained their fake expressions of confusion once the chameleon started laughing was commendable, but the not-so-small lizard was certain the charade would break by the end of the day.

But it didn’t. In fact, things proceeded like they usually did, with clean-up schedules and shift changes going about as usual without any attention being drawn to Iris’ accomplishments and new body. If anything, she was being given the “hardest” tasks precisely because she had the strength to carry them out with the least amount of hassle, a fact she should be slightly bitter about, but seeing as it gave her a chance to flaunt herself… well, it was a hard proposition to say no to. This did, however, allow her to understand that something was absolutely wrong with her body, or right depending on how she looked at it.

Her uniform had been tight all day, and like her manager said at the start of the shift, the exposed abs attracted such a great deal of attention that Iris often felt like reminding people that her eyes were up above… if she wasn’t secretly enjoying every moment of the unfettered oggling. Nonetheless, the undersized pieces of clothing still clung onto her to the best of their ability, and to their credit, didn’t tear or rip at any point. Once she was told to clean up the outside bins, however, things began to change; after opening the panels and dragging one of the containers out, Iris noticed it was trailing a significant amount of ketchup sauce, then sighed to herself as she realized someone had, once again, somehow managed to smear a packet of the stuff on the underside. While normally this would mean dragging the damned thing back inside and tipping it over by the kitchen to give it a good rinse, the chameleon figured she could now just raise it in the air to inspect how bad it was; it’s just that, once she did so, the air was filled with the sounds of cloth tearing itself apart, quickly followed by the arms on her shirt practically shattering all the way to her shoulders.

Instinctually, Iris dropped the bin and took several steps back, head wildly swinging in every direction it could to make sure no one saw anything. It was the middle of the afternoon, right after lunch rush, so thankfully the only people left were either inside chatting over their cold meals or heading to the parking lot to go back home. This gave her some time to inspect the damage, and what she saw made her have to stifle a yelp, because it absolutely wasn’t normal.

Her arms were thicker. Noticeably so, enough that she didn’t even need to flex for her vascularity to become evident. Looking down at them, they looked so much stronger than they had that morning that the idea that all of that day had been a dream resurfaced in her mind, before she shook it off as patently impossible; no, her musculature had just jumped up a couple of steps and left her with a pair of arms that were officially too big for her work uniform… and given that much, it wasn’t all that surprising when she looked beyond them and noticed that the rest of her shirt was pretty much in tatters too.

Her breasts, too, were larger. Not just by a single cup size, oh no, those things were very much plumper and rounder than before, enough to fill up her palm when they were barely enough to justify an A-cup bra just a few days earlier. As a result, not only did most of the buttons tear off, but the cloth itself had been ripped into several threads that pressed heavily into her bosom’s soft flesh, the rest of it bulging out through the holes in what could only be described as both a gigantic wardrobe malfunction and a severe violation of dress code. There was no way she wasn’t going to be in trouble after this, so there was no point in delaying it; Iris went straight back inside without even the flimsiest of excuses as to what happened.

Expecting a dressing down and an official warning to get her shit together, the chameleon instead got the same expression of genuine confusion over the “problem” she was reporting; as far as the manager on call cared, Iris had always looked like that, and the “issue” with her uniform was simply a result of corporate not caring enough to send clothing that actually fit her. It had been a struggle to get people to accept such a hunky lizard as herself initially, but over the months she’d been working there, the customers had grown to “appreciate her magnificence”; their words, not Iris’.

This left the chameleon feeling so utterly lost that she could do nothing but nod politely, accept it and move on, only really giving it thought a couple of hours later once her shift was over and she was ready to go back home. How exactly did everyone fail to notice that her tits had jumped up several cup sizes and her upper body had bulked up so much that the uniform that just barely fit her earlier that morning was now reduced to shreds? And if they did notice it, why was no one saying anything? Why did everyone, her coworkers of equal rank included, act as if this was just a perfectly normal, everyday occurrence?

And why was that so unbelievably arousing?

These were all questions that swam around inside of her head for the rest of the day, and hounded her all throughout the night and on the way to the gym the next day. If nothing else, Iris figured that a good day spent working out would at least let her clear her head enough to get some answers, even if they were ultimately unsatisfactory; nothing that could ever remotely explain what happened would be good, especially not if the sudden growth was something she had no control over. So absorbed was the chameleon in this line of thought that she didn’t even notice that her sports top just didn’t fit on her, barely even covering the top half of her breasts; this didn’t strike her as altogether odd, and given that no one reacted with shock and horror, it took until she was literally in the middle of the gym itself for her brain to turn back on and let her know what she had just done.

By that point, it was far too late… or would be, if not for everyone around her treating it, once again, as the most normal thing in the world. Iris was about to bring both of her hands to cover her bust when one of the other regulars, a buff canid whose name she never remembered, told her not to worry about it because they already told the new customers about her. His words were entirely genuine, as was his tone, leaving Iris to fumble around trying to understand just what in blazes was going on that all the people around her seemed perfectly fine with them going around practically naked; she was almost certain it was against the establishment’s rules!

And yet, no matter how much attention she tried to draw to herself, no one seemed willing to call her out on it; as far as they cared, it was perfectly natural for her to go topless, and in fact the odd thing about her arrangement was precisely the fact that she had tried to wear anything at all. Normally, as one of the beefiest crocodiles told her, she just opted to show up wearing nothing but some tight shorts, and often skipped the changing room altogether; this was entirely false and Iris knew it, and yet not only was it said with utmost honesty, it garnered a few looks of approval and nods from those around the young man, along with one of the personal trainers sincerely asking her if she was fine and needed some water. A few of the other gym-goers seemed confused for a few moments, but eventually decided that their time was better spent not lifting weights and instead trying to assist someone who was clearly in need; someone as powerful as Iris was clearly not meant to almost faint like that, drawing plenty of concerned stares from everyone present, even if a few opted to go back to their preferred equipment.

Seeing as any of the largest hunks there were several times heavier than the rubbish bin back at the fast food joint, it was only natural that the same transformative process triggered the moment she tried to find some room to breathe; what began as a simple push quickly turned into her physically picking two bodybuilders up with one hand each, about as effortlessly as one might grab an empty plastic bag. Iris wasn’t even aware that she had done so until the crowd erupted into cheers, and even then took a few moments to realize what exactly happened before gingerly placing both men on the ground; they were left in a daze, their eyes unfocused for a few seconds before collapsing onto the floor, caught at the last moment by a group of admirers that somehow seemed larger than it had been moments before.

The chameleon didn’t have to look at herself to know that her body had begun to change; the creaking of muscles, the groaning of some sort of leathery substance all around her, and the mounting weight on her chest all combined to let her know her form was expanding outwards at a dangerous rate, enough that, by the time it was done, the only piece of clothing left on her, those poor shorts she had trouble putting on, were already beginning to rip. A quick inspection revealed that not only had her breasts ballooned outwards to cover a good half of her torso or so, but her arms had reached a point where moving them around became… inconvenient. With a set of biceps so swollen and hardened as those, simply shifting them from side to side forced them to rub against her immensely broad torso, a sensation that not only did she not have any frame of reference for, but left her so pathetically aroused that her face was starting to glow an odd shade of yellow from the sudden blush.

At least her ass wasn’t being left behind; while not as overblown as her bust, her glutes were significantly… more than they had been, for a certain value of the word. Bringing her hands back to feel them up was at least easier than it had been for her front, not that she had any time to do so; the crowd gathered around her seemed eager to get their own grabby little paws on every inch of her body, forcing Iris to shout at them and demand they stand back or else. Though they all did so, it was clear from their expressions that they were still thinking about it; their eyes rested on every spot of her body that could even remotely elicit some form of sexual arousal, and yet… and yet they did nothing more. Sure, they ogled her unashamedly, but they did actually stand back and not take a single step forward.

Now, Iris had never known authority in her life. Keeping a fast food job while trying to get a degree meant that most of her existence revolved around following someone else’s instructions and trying to figure out the best way to reach the goals imposed upon her, so the idea that anyone might be taking orders from her was, frankly, more bizarre than anything else; why would any person decide to listen to whatever she had to say at that point in life? And yet, the more she looked at the people quite literally bowing to her, the more she recognized the look on their faces: it was the same one she saw on her coworkers whenever a manager caught them doing something they shouldn’t be and ordered them to fix it, or when one of her professors made it clear that whoever was speaking had no clue what they were talking about. It was the same sort of cowed submission that marked those encounters, except this time it was directed at her. She ordered them to stand back, she told them not to touch her… and they obeyed.

In any other circumstances, this confusing sequence of events would’ve left Iris feeling so scared and lost that the chameleon would most likely turn around and leave the building, never to return; and, to some degree, she still wanted to do that, still being the same easily-frazzled beanpole she had been before lifting her first weight. But there was something else to her now, something new and exciting, a new reality that came with the inexplicable growth bursts and unexplained worship; she didn’t like it.

She adored it.

It made no sense as far as she was aware of, seeing as no one seemed to react to her suddenly bulking up far faster than should be biologically possible, not to mention completely changing the way they acted around her without any prompting from either her or any outside force. What it looked like was the world being reprogrammed with every ounce of muscle mass added onto her frame, and as terrifying that sounded in theory, it was actually pretty awesome in practice; who wouldn’t want to follow their dreams and be given exactly what they wanted without any strings attached? Iris had started to hit the gym precisely so she could turn herself into the kind of hunky beauty she was now, so the fact that it happened was… good. It was good. It was what she wanted, right there at her fingertips and ready to be enjoyed to its fullest.

And it wasn’t done yet. She wasn’t done yet.

Looking around, it became clear that it wasn’t just the people that were changing to better fit their new amazon, but the gym itself; it had been redesigned in her colours, the roof slightly elevated to help deal with the fact Iris herself was about two feet taller than she had been initially, the doors widened so she wouldn’t have any trouble walking in. It was the stuff of fantasy really, and for a few brief moments the lizard wondered whether or not it was all just a very long-running dream from which she’d wake up any time now… but if that were true, then surely she should make the best of it while she could, no? That seemed perfectly reasonable to Iris, who beelined to the nearest weight bench and proceeded to stack as much metal on it as she could.

It was unreasonable to assume she’d be able to lift it, even with the kind of muscles she now sported; the poor bar was already bending from the amount of weight on either end of it, and Iris herself could barely fit underneath it given how gigantic her breasts were. But she did, with plenty of wiggling and some help by a few eager volunteers who slathered some oil onto her, and soon enough her hands were holding firmly onto the key to the next stage of her ascension, whatever it might be. She envisioned a future version of herself, one who carried so much bulging musculature around that it would be seen not as excessive, but as the goal towards which everyone should strive, her buttocks firm and yet just plump enough to sink her fingers into, a bust of proportions so outrageous that anyone, literally anyone would teeter on the edge of climax simply from looking at them and their proud owner. The chameleon held these thoughts in her mind for the full duration of her pushing the weights up, and then it all came true.

Though the gesture itself lasted only a few seconds, it seemed to stretch for hours from Iris’ perspective, who got to watch as all the effects compounded upon themselves and took hold of her body. Every inch that thing was lifted added what looked to be several pounds of mass not just on her arms and torso, but her whole body, with the bench quickly becoming insufficient to hold her entire frame once her legs outgrew its length all by themselves. Not that those pillars on either side of her head weren’t getting most of the juice; if her biceps were already gigantic before, now they bordered on the outright titanic, easily enough to be the main attraction whenever anyone looked at her, a simple flex away from filling eyes and ears given both how perfectly shiny and rippling they were, plus the loud, discordant groaning that started to sound more like wood creaking in the wind. This wouldn’t last long though; as much as those arms of hers were literally bulging out in front of her eyes, muscles building on themselves the more the weights were lifted in the air, it was her bust that would turn into the main eye-catcher; to call it anything less than colossal would be a disservice to their sheer size, and though they rapidly inflated to cover her entire torso and most of the top part of her legs, stopping only just below the knee, they seemed to weigh very little on an upper body that was so jam-packed with rock-hard muscle mass that it could probably stop a bullet at that point. And to cap it all off, Iris could feel her back arching slightly when her glutes decided to get in on the fun; though they weren’t as ridiculously overblown as her tits, they’d at least serve as a delicious side dish for anyone feasting upon the way she looked.

By the time the bar was at arm’s length and the rep was done, not only was the chameleon strong enough to literally snap the whole thing in half before throwing it several feet to the side, but the bench wasn’t even there anymore; it hadn’t been destroyed (even though her by-now ten-foot frame could very well have done so), nor had it somehow ended glued to her back, which had broadened to the point where it more resembled a solid green wall than it did anything organic. No, the tiny, insignificant thing had just… disappeared, along with most of the gym it seemed.

Looking down at the former establishment from her new vantage point was by itself the reward. Being so tall as to stand several feet above even the largest of her by-now-worshippers was already enough to inflate her ego to dangerous proportions, but doing so while carrying around a set of tits that large and a body so unbelievably colossal and glistening that it made her want to do something less than wholesome with both of her hands, made it all… sublime. Maybe that’s why the gym was gone, replaced with something that more resembled a small temple than it did any place where someone might go to exercise; the hunks were still there, even larger than before, seemingly having taken a few lessons from chameleon, but they were too busy kneeling before her to really do anything else. They begged for attention, hoping to receive even a moment of their goddess’ time, who by that point had transcended the need for mere physical exercise.

She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did, and while everyone else was content to act as if things were perfectly fine, Iris was still pleasantly surprised: she looked to her side, bringing one of her arms up to eye-level. She was stuck in a near-perpetual flex… but that wasn’t enough. With a grin, the chameleon deliberately tensed up, and the moment she did, Iris saw as her biceps began to grow all over again, the mere strain of forcing her body to do anything now a vector for her ascension.

She stopped. She anchored her feet on the ground. She brought both hands in front of her and clenched them tightly.

It was time to test her limits.