Getting the Most Out of My Gains... Bit by Bit (Short Story/Wimp Bit/With Images) (Patreon)

Getting the Most Out of My Gains... Bit by Bit 

Written By SteeleBlazer 

Entry 1 

Okay... So... I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do here... 

I was given this new fitness tracker, and I guess it’s supposed to help get the most gains out of me or something like that... I’ve never used one of these fancy do-dads myself, I’ve never needed to, I’m a big strong stud, if I do say so myself... And I guess I did just say so myself... But then again this is my diary—I mean JOURNAL—and I guess that’s what this thing is for... For me to track my thoughts and my progress using this device. 

Apparently that was a condition for my girlfriend to get these devices—they're some kind of new prototype or something... They’re supposedly serious, cutting-edge technology that will revolutionize and change not just the fitness industry, but the whole world. 

I think it’s a bit too much... I mean—it’s a silly and small and tiny little itty bitty fitness tracker... I just don’t see how it’s going to help get the most out of my gains, let alone revolutionize and change the world... 

I think their claims are really stretching the truth, because I mean... really, how life-changing can this device truly be? 

It all seems a bit strange to me, but my girlfriend Britany really was super excited about giving me this fitness tracker and she really made a big deal about how important and amazing this was and how it really was going to transform our bodies and completely change our lives. I mean... I don’t really see how much bigger I’m going to get. I already got bigger biceps than most men, and I bench almost 500 pounds... 

And if you think I’ve got a big head—just know my biceps are just as big as that big head of mine. And I think you should also know, I’m the kind of man who never, ever skips leg day. 

Anyway... I think writing this journal to be a strange thing... But I guess that’s what it took for Britany to be able to get these fitness trackers for both of us... She has to keep a journal too, and I think it’s funny and strange that she’s excited to have one as well. Because she’s never been much of a gym rat... not like me. She didn’t need to be, she’s a total hottie, and while she might not be a hardbody, she’s sure soft in all the right places, and that gets me plenty hard! 

You could say I’m hard enough for the both of us! 

But there is one last thing I do want to say... Or well... write... When I fastened on the device, not only did I hear it lock into place, but then I heard a strange humming sound, as the lights flashed from red to blue... And this is probably going to sound really strange... But I thought I felt something... Something strange... Like a tiny shock that shot straight through me and my entire body and all my muscles... 

I know that sounds strange and it’s probably nothing... I mean it was probably just my imagination and just some nerves about this thing. It’s probably nothing to worry about, just a tiny little shock and nothing more... Anyway... Enough writing. It’s time for me to go to the gym and get the most out of this device. 

I want to really impress Britany and show her what kind of gains I can get out of this silly little device. I figure the more gains I get out of this—the happier she’ll be. 

Entry 2 

So far... I’m not impressed by this device... I’ve been working out for a couple of weeks now, and while I’ve been neglectful of posting entries to this diary... I mean... journal... You better believe I haven’t been neglecting my workouts. I never do, and I’ve been working out just as hard as ever... In fact... I can’t remember the last time working out has felt this hard or exhausting for me. 

After my workouts I’ve never felt more drained in my entire life... 

But, hey, I say leave it all in the gym. That’s how I know this device will really get the most out of my gains... And as I said I really want to impress Britany (she’s my girlfriend if you all remember)... 

But really I don’t notice any gains... I might be a bit more cut or lean... But I sure as hell ain’t bigger or stronger... 

And also, while this isn’t really strange... But Britany still hasn’t come by to the gym... But—and this is the strange bit... While I know I haven’t seen her even step foot in the gym, I’ve seen her abs... And that’s the thing, she has abs now... Not the most rippling and hunky 6-pack, but she’s never had abs before, only a smooth and sexy soft stomach... 

It seems one of us is making gains... I don’t know how... But, I guess I better keep hitting the gym hard... ’Cause I can’t let her have all the gains now, can I?! 

Entry 3 

Well, it’s been another week or so... And I wish I could say I’ve finally broken out of my rut, hell I wish to say that my progress or growth has been so-so... 

But that implies progress and growth... And since putting on this damn fitness tracker, I have yet to track a single measurable metric of growth... 

Britany keeps going on and on about how effective these devices are, and well... looking at her, you’d be hard-pressed to argue with her on that, as she’s never looked bigger... 

I mean better... but then again—she’s also never looked bigger, and it seems like day by day she just keeps growing bigger... So she clearly figured out a way to maximize her gains with this device... I just wish I knew how I could maximize my gains and get even half the gains as she gets... 

I can’t help but think my device is defective or something, but when I told her that she just laughed at me and told me it’s working perfectly... And actually asked me—and almost kind of doubted—that I was working out properly... which is funny, ’cause I’m the only one of us who is working out. I still haven’t seen her set foot inside a gym or even so much as look at a weight... And yet... now I’m working out, busting my butt, day in and day out... And instead of making any progress, I seem to be going backwards. 

And I’ve never worked out harder in my life, and I swear with each workout it’s getting harder and harder to get a good workout in... But, I’m not a quitter. I know it takes hard work to forge a rock-hard hardbody... But dammit, I’ve never felt softer or weaker or just plain drained in my entire life. 

I can’t believe this... I’ve never had this much difficulty working out. 

I just really can’t believe it... But then again if making gains was easy, then everyone would be big and strong and studly like me... And I know I’ve got the kind of muscular dream body most people can only dream about. 

But, what I really can’t believe is just how easy my girlfriend is making this all look. While I’m breaking my back, and busting my hump, day in and day out, sweating my butt off, she is looking better and better and even more unbelievably bigger and bigger, and I’ve never, ever seen her even break a sweat... not even so much as a single itty bitty bead of sweat, but I’ve seen her flex that bicep of hers, and it wasn’t itty bitty... I have guy friends that have smaller arms than her now... Yeah, they’re kinda wimps next to me, but I’ll tell ya... and I guess I am telling ya, she ain’t no wimp... 

But I ain’t no wimp either!!! 

Why, I even started working out with my dumbbells at home, just to try to keep up with Britany and the incredible gains she’s making... And to think those old dumbbells of mine... I haven’t used them in a long, long time... And while they’re light compared to the ones I use at the gym, I know they’re gonna help me start making the gains I need to get out of this funk. 

Entry 4 

So I don’t know what to do, or who to go to for advice... I mean... I’m not just in a funk, but the biggest fucking funk I’ve ever been in my life... And by that I mean I’m the smallest I’ve freaking been in a long, long time. 

At first I thought maybe I was just leaning out and cutting weight... But I’m down almost a full 20 freaking pounds, and all my lifts are down even more than that! 

Sounds scary, doesn’t it... Well, just imagine how scary it is for me writing this. And for those reading this diary... I mean journal... What I mean is, this fitness tracker is supposed to be making me bigger and stronger and get the most out of my workouts and my gains, but I feel like it’s having the opposite effect on me. 

And by feel, I mean I have never felt so damn drained and discouraged in my entire life... I’m normally the guy that all my friends and workout buddies go to for advice, only I have no clue or idea what I’m doing wrong. 

I’m working out just as hard as ever, if not even harder... And it seems that with each new day and workout, they’re getting harder and harder and yet, I’m not seeing any signs of progress... 

What’s funny... And this is good for a laugh... My girlfriend, she’s the one who’s been giving me advice and trying to pep me up and lift my spirits, all while my own personal lifts have been going down—right along with my spirit... 

Can you believe it, my cute and pretty little girlfriend has been giving me advice—me advice—on lifting weights and working out… and I gotta laugh that off... Even if she’s not quite as little as what she used to be... 

Okay... I wouldn’t call her so much as little anymore... In fact she’s getting quite big... for a girl... 

But, really—like I need her advice. What does she know about gains? What does she know about working out… even though… whatever she is doing really is working out for her… even if I still haven’t seen her actually work out… but again the results don’t lie… 

But there is just something about that smug little smile of hers that I find a bit unsettling… but again that’s probably just my imagination. I’m just a little jealous of her and the gains she’s been having… 

I must be using this device wrong… but then again I never had trouble with my workouts before I put this device on… I’m almost tempted to take it off… and just throw it away… 

But… I know Britany really is excited about this device—especially hers… and so I figure… I might as well keep on wearing it…  

I mean… what’s the big deal about some stupid, silly little fitness tracker…  

It can’t hurt to wear it, can it?  

And besides I can always take it off whenever I want… so there is no rush… 

But… I guess… I better hurry up and rush to the gym… after all I can’t let Britany have all the gains, can I? 

Better go to the gym and get a good, hard workout in… my last few were pathetic… but… no pain and no gain… and I’m going to make some gains, no matter how painful it can be… 

Entry 5 

It’s really getting hard for me... And not in the way I would like either. 

And I don’t just mean it’s getting hard writing this stupid diary... But working out. 

I feel so drained, not just of energy, but also enthusiasm and effort... 

And working out has gotten harder and harder, while I seem to only be getting softer and softer... And while I hate to write this in this diary... But I’m also getting smaller and smaller! 

And that’s no bullshit. 

And there is no denying it. In fact, I’d say this to all those stupid egghead scientists that designed this stupid little fitness tracker, that their device doesn’t work half as well as they think it does. 

I’m proof of that, and this journal bears witness to it. And actually that’s kind of what I’ve been noticing—my arms... My bare arms, or really... my arms in my T-shirts just don’t seem to be as overbearing and as big and bulging as they used to. 

And it’s not just a stretch of my imagination, but all my clothes have been fitting worse, as I just don’t stretch or fill out my clothes as impressively as I did before... 

What I mean by that is... Well... you know... I’ve been noticing my shirts fitting a bit strange... You know, a bit looser in the chest and sleeves. At first I thought maybe I stretched the sleeves out, but then every shirt seemed to no longer fit as tight and as snug, and the sleeves started to get looser and looser, and so I had to know for certain. 

I mean, I know just by the scale that I’ve lost over 25 pounds so far. But, hey... I thought maybe I was leaning out a bit... I’m still a big strapping stud... But I couldn’t deny the nagging thought that all my sleeves were sagging a bit too much for me... So I broke out my measuring tape. 

And I decided to give my arms a nice, good measurement after a nice, good and hard workout... 

Only the workout wasn’t as good or as hard as I wanted it to be... Well—it was hard—just not in the way that I wanted it to be. In fact it was rather a pathetic workout and I kind of limped my way through it... But I thought I might at least have gotten a good, hard pump going from all that hard work... 

Only as I flexed in the locker room mirrors my muscles looked and felt more than a bit limp, and also a bit saggy... And to think I wasn’t even wearing one of my T-shirts yet, and already my arms looked saggy... 

YUCK! 

But, still strange as this all looked, looks can be deceiving, right??? 

I mean that’s what they say... But then again my girlfriend says that these fitness trackers are the best for getting the most out of my gains, and well... That claim appears rather deceiving... 

But then again by looking at her—it does appear that one of us is getting the most out of our gains... It just sure as hell ain’t me! 

So anyway... I decided to just measure my progress... And what better way than with that body measurement tape of mine. 

So I wrapped it around my big studly bicep and gave it a flex. 

And while my arm didn’t have that same studly strength that I’ve known it to have, it still ain’t no slouch. 

Now for my measurements... I’m not some vain meathead who measures themselves daily, recording and memorizing and spouting off their measurements. 

But, I mean you do have to track your measurements to truly track your progress and gains. 

So my arms, which were 21 and 5/8ths of an inch at their peak! (He-he... get it, bicep humor!) 

Now measured only 18 and a half inches... Not even a full 19 fucking inches, but only 18 and a half fucking inches... 

Well... not only—that’s still pretty damn big and impressive... just not as big and impressive as what they were... 

But... really... and honestly... okay... okay... I’ll admit it! 

I was lying... 

My arms didn’t measure 18 and a half inches, they actually measured 18 and 3/8ths inches, and I was really, really, really squeezing and flexing my arm hard, to get the most out of my bicep... even if it just didn’t seem to want to cooperate with me, and it seemed a bit flaccid when I flexed it. 

Still, 18 and 3/8ths inches isn’t small, but try as hard as I did, I couldn’t quite get the measuring tape to stretch to a full 18 and a half inches. 

But trust me that is a rock-solid measurement and I’m not stretching the truth, even if my arm and bicep didn’t feel as rock-solid as what they used to. And something strange happened and it must have been some sort of stretch of my imagination or something, but... I could have sworn the last flex I gave my bicep with the measuring tape wrapped around it, my bicep must have gotten tired or something, as the measuring tape reading deflated a bit down to 18 and a quarter inches... 

But hey... I’m still a big strong guy... 

Just... it feels weird for my biceps to just not stretch the sleeves like how they used to... And I can’t help but think the sleeves are feeling more and more loose than even before... But that again just has to be my imagination... 

Right?!?!?? 

But I’ll tell you one thing that isn’t my imagination is how big Britany is getting... 

She is getting so damn shredded and yoked! I’d say she’d be putting me to shame, but of course I’m still bigger and way, way stronger than her, but whatever she’s doing... she’s really getting the most gains out of her fitness tracker. 

I won’t lie... I wish I could get those kind of gains... 

I wish mine worked half as well as hers... especially since I still seem to be the only one of us that actually is working out! 

And what’s funny is... I can’t help but notice how her biceps are stretching out those sleeves of hers... I’d say those biceps of hers would be cute, if they weren’t so cut and lean with big bulging beefy muscles... 

She definitely doesn’t just have impressive muscles for a girl... Those muscles are just really damn impressive... 

And I know I better up my game, or I’m gonna end up looking like a wimp next to her. And I can’t have that. I can’t be the wimp—not when I’m the big strong strapping stud. 

Entry 6 

So no bullshit and no lies, I’m going to lay down some heavy truths... And as hard as it is for me to admit it, I just won’t lie to myself or to you... my diary... I guess... stupid as that sounds... 

But the heavy truth is, all the weights and workouts I’ve been doing lately, well they haven’t been working out... not like how they used to... 

And those home dumbbells of mine, they’re starting to feel really, really heavy for me. And I’ve had them for years and years, and even when I bought them, they never felt this heavy... 

But, I guess... I really just am that drained... 

You know, as in burnt out... That’s what Britany told me... She said I was working out too hard, and that I should take it easy for a day or two, and that with a bit of rest, I’ll be bigger and stronger than ever, and ready to tackle the gym with a fresh new start and energy. 

But really, as she said that, I couldn’t help but feel as if she was just perhaps stretching the truth a little bit, just as her muscles were stretching out the sleeves of her shirt—and not just a little bit. 

I don’t know why, but I just had this strange feeling that she was telling me what I wanted to hear... 

Again, it wasn’t what she said, because she said it wouldn’t be long for me to start seeing the effects of the fitness tracker, and that I too would make just as dramatic a transformation as what she has... And that she promised me it would be life changing. 

And I want to believe her, I really do, but looking at her when she was talking to me, and how she was trying to encourage me and build me back up, I couldn’t help but notice just how effortlessly everything seemed to her. 

The way her muscles swelled, and rippled, and bulged... the way she smoothly talked and encouraged me, smiling sweetly as those muscles of hers stretched her shirt and those sleeves in ways that I really couldn’t help but feel jealous over... 

And that’s no lie or me stretching the truth... Trust me, I might sound like a wimp, what with being jealous of my girlfriend and how her big biceps stretch those sleeves of hers, but I’d be stretching the truth if I claimed otherwise... 

Entry 7 

I’m down another 25 pounds... well... 33 actually... and it ain’t fat... it can’t be... I didn’t have that much fat to begin with... I was all lean and mean... and well... I think you get what I mean... Just like I hate to be mean, but this fitness tracker fucking sucks... 

It really, really fucking sucks... It doesn’t maximize my gains, it’s just leaving me feeling drained all the time despite how hard I work out. And my girlfriend just keeps telling me I’m using it wrong... 

I’ve been tempted to take it off, but I’ll give it another week or two for Britany’s sake... I don’t want to upset her... hell especially not now, she’s almost as big and strong as me... I’d tell ya... I’d be worried if I wasn’t a big and strong and studly man... 

But I won’t lie... I’m getting a bit worried about how big she is getting, and I’m wondering when she’s gonna stop growing and getting bigger... 

But then again I’m more worried about just how much smaller and weaker I’ve been getting... well not getting but... you know... shrinking... and to me that’s more of a growing concern than my girlfriend and her growing muscles, no matter how impressive and insanely shredded and yoked out she’s getting... 

Why, the other day I saw her wearing one of her pairs of sweats that she likes to wear when she’s lounging about the house on a lazy weekend... And while it was a lazy weekend for her it wasn’t lazy for me, as I had just come back from another grueling workout at the gym, and I am too embarrassed to tell you just how pitiful that workout was and how pitifully small the weights were that I lifted... 

But looking at her, you wouldn’t think she was lazy... in fact with my loose-fitting clothes, you’d think I was the slacker and she was the gym rat... 

I mean that’s just how tight they were on her, that it looked practically painted on... those thighs of hers—I won’t lie to you, they were now way, way bigger than mine... hell I’ve seen tree trunks smaller than her thighs, and you could see each and every muscle of those sculpted quads pop out brightly etched in those pink sweatpants of hers, and the way that muscular ass of hers stretched out the fabric, it wasn’t just juicy but beefy, and you could see not just the panty lines but the muscularity and striations of that muscular booty of hers. She really had the most maximus gluteus maximus I’ve ever did see, and her legs were so thick and muscular that the leggings were so small on her that her huge grapefruit-sized calves were peeking out like ripe and juicy and bronzed. Why, I think even a blind man could see all the insane definition in her muscles, from those huge hunky abs of hers, to those big, broad boulders that she calls shoulders, to those arms... That’s just how crazy big and shredded she’s gotten. 

It’s crazy to think just how much gains she’s made... just as crazy as it is to think about all my recent struggles... 

And looking at her, I felt more than a bit deflated... But I wasn’t going to let this sap my motivation... After all I can’t measure myself against my girlfriend—that wouldn’t be fair or right... What kind of man would do something silly and crazy like that... Besides, crazy as it sounds I knew it was only a matter of time before this fitness tracker of mine started working properly and I could and would finally start to see not just my gains, but the result of all my hard work. 

But, also as I catch her checking herself out in the mirror and both lifting up her shirt to check out those shredded abs of hers, and flexing her arms... Well, I won’t lie... I hate how easy this transformation has been for her... 

But I also hate something else far, far worse... 

Why... I hate to say this, her arms are almost as big as mine now... Again... I’d be really getting scared and nervous if I wasn’t a big strong stud... 

Entry 8 

Been another week or so, and I’m really starting to feel like a weakling... 

I’m down another 20 pounds... Or hell it could even be another 25 or maybe even 30 whole fucking pounds. I don’t know anymore... It’s getting really hard to track... and to think I thought this fitness tracker was supposed to make such things easier... 

But it’s not! 

Okay... I won’t lie... I am getting a bit nervous, but I also can’t help but get excited looking at her. Sure I do find it belittling for my girlfriend to be almost as big and strong and muscular as me, but again I’m not some little tiny wimp. 

I know my girlfriend told me to take it easy and relax and that I was just working out too hard... But I tried that... I tried that and been there and done that and bought the fucking shirt, you could say... 

And I guess I’m the one saying it, but I tried resting and relaxing and recuperating, and instead of feeling refreshed, I’m feeling just as exhausted and drained as ever! 

But, trust me, I’m no whiny little wimp. I’m not going to let all my hard work and all the gains I’ve made throughout the years, throughout my entire life, just shrivel up and fade away... I’m going to keep on working out. 

Something has to give, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be my muscles, or my spirit, no matter how draining this whole ordeal is. 

As I said I ain’t no wimp! 

And I’m never going to be a wimp, no matter how much hard work it takes, I’ll do the work and put in the hard work. Because I’m not afraid of a little tiny bit of hard work, just like I’m not afraid of a little bit of muscle that my girlfriend has gained since she’s gotten us both these fitness trackers... Not that of course her muscles are little anymore... But it has to be only a little bit more time for me to start finally getting results... Right?! 

Just like Britany can’t keep on growing bigger and bigger and keep on getting stronger and stronger, right? 

Because I saw her curling my dumbbells and she asked me if I had any bigger ones, and she was curling the biggest one I had, the 50-pounder, and she was curling it easily... And you better believe me it ain’t easy for me to admit it, but right now that dumbbell is way too heavy for me to lift... 

But don’t you dare think I’m a wimp. 

I’m a man, a great big stud... Only... I’m not as big as what I once was... But I’ll get back my gains, every single inch and pound lost... Just wait, I’ll get it back! 

And I’ll be back to being stronger than my girlfriend... just wait... just wait and see... 

Entry 9 

I’m tired of waiting... I’m starting to think this device is just broken. 

I’d say it doesn’t work, but then when I look at my girlfriend, I can see hers clearly is working... And working so fucking much, that I swear it could work for the both of us! 

And so I made up my mind. After I gathered up my strength and my courage, I confronted Britany and I told her, much as I appreciated her kind gift, that I was going to take off my fitness tracker. 

And that’s when she told me that I couldn’t... And she got really emotional, and teary-eyed, and said I was being selfish and thinking only of myself. 

I told her—she could keep on using hers, but I was done using mine—and that’s when she told me that we’re a team... And that all the hard work I did really inspired and motivated her, and that it gave her the strength she needed for her own workouts... 

I really couldn’t have cared less about her own workouts... Not when my own workouts have never been more pathetic and just downright pitiful... 

I would tell you how much—or rather how little weight I’m now lifting, but I don’t want your pity, and I especially don’t want my girlfriend’s pity! 

But looking at her and how big she had now gotten, I couldn’t help but think I wouldn’t mind having muscles like hers... 

I know what a pitiful statement that is, but don’t you dare pity me, and I’ll be damned if I’d ever let anyone—especially my girlfriend—pity me. 

I’m not saying she pities me... In fact she was still telling me how strong and powerful I was, and to not give up on the fitness tracker... How she knew it wouldn’t be long until I was big and strong like her... 

And with that she flexed her biceps and do you know what happened??? 

Those big, bulging biceps of hers ripped through her shirt sleeves like the sleeves were just made of wet tissue paper... 

Only... that wasn’t one of her old shirts, but one of my old shirts... A shirt that now was way too big and baggy on me—especially in the arms... It was one of my old football shirts from my college playing days... 

And again, if you think I’m stretching the truth with what just happened—I’m not. My girlfriend’s biceps didn’t just stretch out, but ripped and tore through my shirt sleeves. 

All she said was “oopsie,” and giggled softly as she gave both of her biceps a big lip-smacking kiss. And then she gave me a comforting hug and told me not to be such a little wimp... 

And to give the fitness tracker more time... 

And what could I do... I was helpless... 

I mean that literally—as I’ve felt softer people and had less crushing hits on the football field than that so-called comforting hug—which I think was strong enough to make an actual bear holler in pain. 

But again I don’t want you all to think I’m a wimp... And I definitely don’t want my girlfriend Britany to think I’m a wimp... 

So I agreed to give that fitness tracker more time... 

What can I say... I guess when it comes to my girlfriend... I’m a bit of a wimp after all... 

Entry 10 

It won’t come off!!! 

This fucking device won’t fucking come off... 

It must be stuck or jammed... 

But I really, really tried hard and put all the muscle I had into it, but I couldn’t get the latch to budge. It’s a solid steel latch, and I even tried to pry it open with a screwdriver. 

I know I said give it more time, but it’s been a week... 

And also I’m just so fucking weak... and I don’t mean weak-willed... 

I just mean plain and simple I’m fucking weak now! 

I didn’t even go to the gym this week, instead I tried to relax, and I tried to rest... But how can I relax when I seem to be shrinking! 

And again that’s not me stretching the truth, no there is no stretching—unless you’re talking about the way my girlfriend is now stretching out her clothes... Only again she seems to like to walk around sleeveless, baring and showing off those brawny bear arms of hers, which I don’t think it’d be stretching the truth to say they’re more powerful and bigger than a god damn grizzly bear’s arms... And you can say that sounds a bit hyperbolic, but trust me that’s how god damn fucking hyper-muscular and how hypertrophic her muscularity is... 

It’s just downright insane... 

Just as insane as it is to think that this fitness tracker actually fucking works. 

I want it off... 

I want my muscles back... 

I want things to be like how they were, before Britany gave me this fucking fitness fucking tracker... 

How things have changed... And to think she promised big changes, she promised me this device would be transformational... 

She said this would change our lives... 

But all it did was transform her into some big and studly swole and yoked muscle goddess, and it turned me into a real wimp! 

... wait a minute... 

Britany’s Diary  (An excerpt…) 

Well… the cat’s out of the bag!!! 

The day I have been... well... not dreading—has finally come to pass, but it’s too little—just like Jeff now is—and way too late for Jeff to do anything about it. 

But let’s just say after weeks and weeks of him getting weaker and weaker, he finally realized what was going on… 

And really… again, by that time, he was more mouse than man… 

And I’m not just a cat… 

I’m a muscular lioness! 

So let’s just say it took him long enough to figure it out—not that I’m complaining, because each day that transpired just gave me more time and more muscles to add to my pretty little... make that not so little figure! 

Just how long did it take him? I could measure it in pounds—as in I siphoned and drained from him 187 pounds and 13 ounces... all of which my fitness tracker—or really my fitness trapper—tracked and calculated for me... 

Or I could measure it in the inches upon inches of raw, rock-hard, primal, and pulsing muscles that I’ve added to my now fabulously and fantastically flex-tastic, gorgeously engorged feminine physique. 

Or I could measure it in the 8 weeks and 3 days it took for my dumbbell dummy of a boyfriend to figure it all out and put two and two together. 

But of course, when he finally found it all out, the sum of it all is too great for his pathetic and puny mind to comprehend... He really is such a dumbbell... But sadly he’s now way too light for me to even lift like one... Just like his puny tiny dumbbells of his... While I don’t need to work out... I thought it would be nice to have heavier ones around the house so I can show off more of my strength and power. 

And I didn’t have to wait long to show off my strength and power... As tonight he came barging in just as I was curling the biggest one—using just one arm, of course. 

He tried to act all tough and intimidating, but I could see right through him... Hell, with how skinny he is—I practically can, if not see through him, then I can easily see clear all around him, and there is no hiding anything from me. And by the way his eyes bugged out while I was calmly and coolly curling that massive 150-pound dumbbell with just one of my well-muscled arms and even more well-manicured hands, and the way my bicep just bulged out, and out, growing bigger and bigger right along with his own disbelieving eyes... 

Well... let’s just say whatever disbelief he might have had from all that had just transpired the past few months made a believer out of him... 

But he still needed some explanation... which I figured, since he was kind enough to give me his muscles, I decided to give him an explanation. 

So you could say I gave him the long and short of it—except I mostly just gave him the short of it—which is really more fitting for him now—since he’s so small and short now that he barely fits into even my old clothes!!!! 

I think it’s cute that he’s still wearing all his old clothes, but they’re so big on him, why he looks like a child... Which is exactly how he was behaving—whining just like a child about how I couldn’t do this to him... 

Only I did do it to him—and there is nothing he can do to stop me. 

He not only lacked the strength—but the effects are irreversible, but I like to think the effects make me irresistible... And trust me, I saw something else that I knew Jeff agreed with me on that fine point... Mostly the—ahem—fine point in his trousers... Because I always knew Jeff loved me and my hot body, but now that I have grown so much bigger, there is so, so, so, so very much more for him to love now... And I think we’re both gonna just love discovering and finding out just how much... 

Only, of course, as excited as he was, he was still hot to trot about me stealing his muscles... So of course he was still so very upset… and it was almost humorous hearing him shouting at me with his voice, which is no longer quite as deep or threatening, and of course he couldn’t really be threatening looking like a kid wearing his father’s clothes... 

He forgot not only that he wasn’t even half the man he used to be—but he also forgot that I was the one who took all the muscles that he was demanding back. 

Yes, he forgot his place… he forgot that he wasn’t the big man in this relationship anymore… 

He’s just a tiny little wimp now… 

But once I explained that to him… really explained it to him… 

With a great big, most muscular flex… 

A flex so big and muscular that I once again ripped my shirt… 

Not my shirt sleeves— 

I stopped wearing shirts with sleeves weeks ago… 

Sleeves are for weaklings… 

No… this time I ripped both the front hem and the back of my shirt… 

My lats exploded so wide that my shirt couldn’t handle my muscularity… 

And Jeff… 

Well… not just seeing my powerful flex… 

Not just seeing all my great big mighty female muscles… 

But hearing it too… 

Hearing just how powerful my mighty muscles are… 

Hearing that shirt rip… 

Well… 

Let’s just say he remembered his place… 

And honestly… he seemed a bit more accepting of it than I thought he would be… 

Not that he has a choice… 

Because that fitness tracker of his ain’t ever coming off… 

Not unless I say so… 

It’s not just locked and sealed with a titanium wristband… 

The control to unlock it is tied to my account… 

And I control both the lock… 

And how much of his size and strength I siphon away… bit by bit… 

Because of course… 

This isn’t any ordinary fitness tracker… 

It’s a Wimp-Bit! 

And I turned my boyfriend into a wimp… 

Bit by bit… 

With the Wimp-Bit… 

And I must say this device really lived up to my expectations, and I have no doubt their claims of revolutionizing and changing the world are going to happen... 

Even if it’s only bit by bit... and of course wimp by wimp!