Mark opened his eyes. Had Alex actually knocked him out? He felt his cheek carefully and there was a slight soreness, but nothing broken. He stood up slowly. He still in his weakened state, but he was no longer in Alex’s dorm room, and Alex, thankfully, wasn't there. He was in a gym room, with mats on the floor and the wall, wearing white shorts and a blue tank top. There was an occasional sound coming from outside, a ’whapping’ noise, like a ball being hit. He went out to look.
A girl with a bored expression, a year or two younger than he, dressed in a red tank top and black shorts, was hitting a punching bag without much skill, missing it three times for each time she hit it. When she saw him she exclaimed, "At last!" and hit the bag again. She was several inches taller than he, about 5’6", busty and stocky but not muscular. She could lose her "freshman 15" and a bit more and still not be slim.
"What are we doing here?" Mark asked, looking for a way out.
"You and me have to fight," she said, swinging at the bag and missing it. "Do you box?"
Mark shook his head. "Not really. I've been in a couple of fights, but not boxing. What's your name?"
"Jade. Jade Powers. You're Mark Harding." She stuck her tongue out. "You're so small for a guy. I checked you out while you were sleeping. I would have woken you up, but I wasn't supposed to. So I've been sort of practicing. Too bad we’re boxing, ’cause I'd beat you easily wrestling. You must weigh practically nothing."
"I'm not really this small," he started to explain.
“Really?” She walked closer and looked down at him. "So it's an illusion or something?" She licked her lips. "’Cause even boxing you doesn't exactly scare me." She grabbed his shoulders, squeezed his upper arms and shook him. "Getting hit by you wouldn't hurt much, and I've got some padding. You've got nothing."
"Stop it! I don't want to fight you," Mark said. "I just want to get out of here and get my strength back."
Jade held him a while longer and then let him go. "I bet you do. It must really suck to be a guy and be so weak. A girl kind of expects to be weaker. But only the winner gets out, and that's going to be me. We're supposed to eat, then we go to the next room and put on boxing gloves and fight until one of us gets knocked out. That's all I know. Hey, look! Food’s on the table. That's been happening. Things just appear, like this punching bag."
There were two glasses, a pitcher of water, two cans and a can opener, and a paper with instructions. "It says we have to take turns with the can opener and eat as much from the cans as possible. You go first. Hmmph!”
Mark looked carefully. They looked like Popeye's spinach cans. Weird things had been happening all day. Could the spinach give him his strength back? If he moved fast he could get it all and more. The can was solid. Forget about squeezing it open like Popeye! He pressed the opener onto the lid of the larger can and pushed the blade through the lid but couldn't turn the wing handle at all. He twisted with all his strength. Nothing! His fingers turned white. His forearms ached. Pointless!
Jade mocked his futility. "You are SO weak! Beating you will be so easy. I bet you'll have little powderpuff punches. We only get three minutes, so it's almost my turn."
There was a bell, like the end of a boxing round. Jade grabbed the can and the opener. Despite her greater bulk she was hardly more successful than Mark, moving the crank one turn but then getting stuck. "This stupid opener’s a piece of shit!" she complained, sticking out her tongue. She looked at the small slit in the top of the can. "But I’ll get some, more than you anyway." She turned the can upside down and licked a drop of greenish liquid that formed below the rim. A trumpet sounded in the distance. She licked a second drop and put her mouth to the slit and sucked out more. The trumpet got louder. "Tastes crappy but feels good going down, like I got more energy. I'm going to try again.” Mark looked with dismay as she turned the wing slowly all the way around and lifted off the top. "Oh yeah! Go Jade!" She stuffed the soggy leaves into her mouth, licked the juice off her fingers and drank what remained in the can. "Not gonna leave him any," she said to herself.
The trumpets were sounding, steadily getting louder and louder. She moved her ass to the beat. Her thick arms grew thicker, as hard, round muscles replaced shapeless fat. Her shoulders widened. Her chest pushed outward and powerful pecs forced her large breasts upward and her bottom of her tank top along with it. Her bra snapped, leaving her deepened cleavage uncovered. The fat around her bared waist melted away in favor of a dense armor of muscle layered upon muscle, while her thighs and calves thickened until they resembled tree trunks.
"You wouldn’t believe how good this feels,” she exclaimed. “Like I've downed twenty red bulls, like I’m cumming again and again every second. I gotta get every last little bit." She swirled her tongue around the metal that had so resisted the cutting teeth of the can opener but now bulged and deformed wherever her tongue pushed on a bit of spinach left inside. Finally the bell sounded. She held the can in front of her chest and flattened it between her palms. A fine spray of pale green water showered her breasts, which instantly perked up even more and sprouted erect, bullet nipples. "Mmmmm, your turn, Mark!" she laughed, sticking out her green tongue.
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