The Growing Star of Channel 5 (Part 2) (Patreon)

Hi hi! ✨

I've got part 2 of this story some of you seemed to really dig - "The Growing Star of Channel 5" - and I've got a fun lil' surprise for you too!

I've been playing around with some new AI tools and made a video of Clara. It's still not up to my usual quality standards, but for a first try it's pretty darn impressive, if I do say so myself! 😉 Remember those first AI-generated images from a couple years back? The progress has been crazy, and I bet video will catch up real quick.

Anywho, in this post you'll find:

• Part 2 of the story

• A text file with both chapters

• The new image that goes with this part

• A sequence combining the images from parts 1 and 2

• And of course, that video of Clara I mentioned

I've got 5 more videos that I think are even better, so I'll be sharing those later today! 😊 Can't wait for you all to check 'em out. Let me know what do you think of this part and where we can take it for part 3! All ideas are welcomed!

You can check out part 1 here

📦 Grab the full res images and rest of the content from the attachment section of this post.

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Part 2

Clara left work early, just as she had threatened, and headed to her favourite boutique to buy some new clothes. She had outgrown everything in her wardrobe, and she needed something that would fit her new body.

As she walked into the boutique, the tailor, Mrs. Jenkins, welcomed her back with a warm smile. "Clara, darling! It's so good to see you again. What can I get for you today?"

Clara smiled, walking confidently to the inviting shop. "Hi, Mrs. Jenkins. I need some new clothes, but I'm afraid I've outgrown everything I have."

Mrs. Jenkins' eyes narrowed, her gaze scanning Clara's body. "Well, let's take a look. Are you looking for something in your usual style?"

Clara nodded, feeling a little hesitant. "Yes, but bigger."

Mrs. Jenkins' eyes lit up, and she nodded knowingly. "Ah, I think I understand. You've caught the virus, haven't you?"

Clara's face flushed, but she nodded proudly. "Yes, I have. And I'm loving every minute of it."

Mrs. Jenkins chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, in that case, we'll need to take your measurements again. Let me get my tape measure."

Clara nodded, feeling a little excited. She had never been measured before, and she was curious to see just how much she had grown.

Mrs. Jenkins returned with the tape measure, and Clara stood up straight, her arms at her sides. Mrs. Jenkins began to measure her, starting at her shoulders and working her way down to her hips and legs.

As Mrs. Jenkins measured her, Clara couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. She was 5'8" now, four inches taller than she had been just a few days ago. And she was in great shape, like she had been into fitness for years. Her muscles were toned and defined, but she was still very fit and lean.

Mrs. Jenkins nodded, her eyes scanning Clara's body. "You've certainly changed, Clara. You're looking fabulous."

Clara smiled, feeling a little self-conscious. "Thanks, Mrs. Jenkins. I'm just trying to get used to my new body."

Mrs. Jenkins nodded sympathetically. "I know it can be tough, but you're doing great. Now, let's get started on some new clothes for you. What do you need?"

Clara thought for a moment, her mind racing with all the possibilities. "I need everything, Mrs. Jenkins. Dresses, tops, pants, skirts, mostly things for work, but can you make them a little bigger? You know, just in case."

Mrs. Jenkins nodded, her eyes sparkling. "Well, we'll get started right away. It's going to be a long day, but I'm excited to work with you again, Clara."

Clara smiled, feeling a sense of relief. She was in good hands with Mrs. Jenkins, and she knew that she would look fabulous when she left the boutique.

Clara thanked Mrs. Jenkins and drove home, feeling exhausted from the busy day. She collapsed on her couch, not even bothering to take off her shoes, and passed out. Her new growing body was demanding more energy, and she was happy to oblige.

But when she woke up, she was shocked to see that the sun was already shining brightly through her windows. "Oh shit", she thought. And to make matters worse, she was late for work, and she still needed to pick up her new clothes from Mrs. Jenkins.

She jumped out of the couch, feeling a little groggy, and stumbled into the shower. As she washed off the sleep, she couldn't help but notice how her body was changing. Her muscles were bigger and more defined, her curves more pronounced.

When she got out of the shower, she stood in front of the mirror, and her jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was huge! Like a bikini FBB contestant, her muscles were bulging out of her skin. She looked like she had been lifting weights for years.

She tried to put on one of her old skirts, but it barely fit. It was squeezing her ass, threatening to burst at any moment. She looked like she was about to pop out of it at any second. Her blouse was more of the same story. It was tight and constricting, making her feel like a sausage in a casing.

She sat down in the driver's seat of her SUV, feeling a little frustrated. She was supposed to be on TV that morning, and she couldn't wear any of her old clothes. She heard a loud tear, and she looked down to see that her skirt had finally given up showing her pink laced panties. "Oh no, the new clothes better fit me now".

She drove to Mrs. Jenkins' boutique, feeling a little anxious. But when she arrived at the boutique, Mrs. Jenkins greeted her with a warm smile. "Clara, darling! I have your new clothes right here, I thought you weren't going to show up today. Let me show you."

Clara followed Mrs. Jenkins to the fitting room, feeling a little nervous. But when she saw the clothes, she was relieved. They were beautiful, and they fit her perfectly. The dresses were flowing and elegant, the tops and pants were fitted but not too tight.

She tried on a few outfits, feeling like a new woman. She was huge, but she was also confident and beautiful. She looked like a supermodel, not just a TV anchor.

As she drove to work, feeling like a million bucks, Clara couldn't help but think about how much her life had changed in just a few days. She was growing, and she was loving every minute of it.

Clara arrived at the studio, feeling confident and ready to take on the day. She followed her usual work routine, taking her time to review the notes for that morning's broadcast. As she was going over the script, Steve stormed into her office, looking frazzled and annoyed.

"Clara, you're late again," he scolded, his voice rising. "You need to get your act together and start taking this job seriously."

Clara stood up, looking him eye to eye for the first time. She was previously shorter than Steve, but now she was now the same height as him in her heels. She smiled sweetly, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"Steve, darling, I'm not late. I'm just fashionably delayed. And besides, I have more important things to worry about than your tantrums. Like the stack of job offers in my inbox, for instance."

Steve's face turned red with anger, but Clara just laughed, her voice husky and confident. "You can't threaten me Steve, you know that the network needs me. And baby darling, we both know that you would never fire me. You love having me around, watching me grow, wondering how big I will get."

Steve scowled, but he knew Clara was right. He stormed out of her office, leaving her to prepare for her show.

That morning, Clara had a guest on her show - the mayor of the town. She was going to ask him about his action plan to manage the virus situation, and she was determined to get some straight answers.

As the mayor sat down across from her, Clara smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with intelligence. "Good morning, Mayor. Thank you for joining us today."

The mayor smiled back, looking a little nervous. "Good morning, Clara. It's a pleasure to be here."

Clara leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. "So, Mayor, what's your plan to deal with the virus? We've had reports of women growing at an alarming rate, and we need to know what you're doing to help them."

The mayor hemmed and hawed, trying to avoid giving a straight answer. But Clara was having none of it. She pressed him, her questions getting more and more pointed.

Finally, the mayor looked flustered and frustrated. "Clara, we're doing the best we can. We're working on finding a cure, and we're going to create funds to support the women who are affected."

Clara raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "That's not good enough, Mayor. We need concrete action, not just empty promises. And what about the infrastructure? We need adapted installations for the amazon women, government financial aid to buy bigger essentials... the list goes on and on."

The mayor looked taken aback, but Clara just flexed her bicep, her muscle straining against her blouse. "You see, Mayor, I'm an amazon woman too. And soon, all the amazon women in this town will be demanding more. We won't be ignored."

The mayor was cornered, and he looked desperately at his assistant, his eyes infuriated but helpless. He mouthed "this wasn't on the script" to his assistant, who looked equally flustered.

Clara, however, was not deterred. She leaned forward, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Funds, Mayor? That's not enough. We need amazon women in your office to make sure we get representation, we know better than anyone what we need!"

The mayor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face reddening with anger. "We're working on it, Clara. I assure you, we're doing everything we can."

But Clara was not convinced. She pressed on, her questions getting more and more pointed. "What about the schools, Mayor? What about the healthcare system? How are you going to ensure that the amazon women are integrated into society?"

The mayor looked like he was about to explode, but Clara just kept going. She was on a roll, and she was not going to let up.

Finally, the mayor's assistant jumped in, trying to intervene. "Clara, I think we've covered enough ground for today. Maybe we can schedule a follow-up interview to discuss the details of the mayor's plan."

But Clara was having none of it. She turned to the assistant, her eyes flashing with anger. "No, I don't think so. The mayor needs to answer these questions, and he needs to answer them now."

The mayor looked like he was about to cry, but Clara just kept pressing. She was determined to get the truth out of him, no matter what it took.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the mayor cracked. "Fine, Clara. We'll do it. We will start hiring amazon women to create policies and allocate the funds to the growing women's best interests. But please, just stop asking questions."

Clara smiled, her eyes glinting with triumph. "That's all I wanted to hear, Mayor. Thank you for your time." She concluded in a sweet tone.

As the camera cut to commercial, Clara turned to the mayor and his assistant, her eyes still blazing with intensity. "And don't think for a second that I'll let you forget about this, Mayor. I'll be watching, and I'll be holding you accountable."

The mayor looked like he was about to have a heart attack, but Clara just smiled and walked out of the studio, her head held high. She had won, and she knew it.

Clara went back to her office, feeling exhausted but satisfied with the way the interview had gone. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading articles, news, and answering mails. As she was scrolling through her emails, she came across a news alert that caught her attention. The president was going to give an emergency speech over the weekend, which meant a lot of work for the next week. But Clara didn't worry about it too much, she knew that was future Clara's problem. She could go home now and rest for the weekend.

But before she left, Clara decided to stop by the tailor shop again. She had been feeling like her new clothes were already getting a bit tight, and she didn't want to repeat the ripping skirt scenario from that morning. Plus, who knew how big she would be getting over the weekend? She might as well get her measurements taken again, just to be safe.

Mrs. Jenkins welcomed her back to the shop, looking surprised by how big Clara had gotten in such a short time. "Clara, darling, you're growing like a weed!" she exclaimed, as she led Clara to the measuring area.

Clara smiled, feeling a bit self-conscious about her rapid growth. "I know, it's crazy," she said, as Mrs. Jenkins began to take her measurements.

Mrs. Jenkins measured Clara's height, and Clara was shocked to see that she was now standing at 5'11". She had grown another three inches in just a day! Mrs. Jenkins continued to measure her arms, waist, hips, legs, and every other part of her body. Clara was amazed by how much she had changed in such a short time.

When Mrs. Jenkins finished taking her measurements, Clara ordered her to make the clothes two sizes bigger this time. Mrs. Jenkins raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "Are you sure, Clara? I mean, you're growing, but are you planning to turn into She-Hulk over the weekend?" she asked jokingly.

Clara laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Maybe, but I just don't want to get any wardrobe malfunctions on air," she said, blushing.

Mrs. Jenkins nodded, smiling. "Okay, darling. I'll make sure to make the clothes extra big this time. But just in case, I'll also add some extra seams and reinforcement, so they can stretch with you."

Clara nodded, feeling relieved. "Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins. You're my hero."

As Clara left the shop, she couldn't help but wonder how big she would be getting over the weekend. Would she reach 6 feet tall? 6'2"? The possibilities were endless, and Clara couldn't wait to find out.

Over the weekend, Clara continued to grow at a slow but steady pace. She could feel her muscles getting bigger and stronger, and her clothes were getting tighter and tighter. Her skin was stretching to its limits, and she could see the definition of her muscles through her clothes. Her veins were bulging, and her muscles were rippling with every movement.

By Saturday morning, Clara was already feeling like she was bursting out of her clothes. She looked in the mirror and was shocked by what she saw. Her muscles were huge, her biceps and triceps were bulging, and her shoulders were broad and powerful. Her chest was expanding, and her breasts were getting larger, but still proportionate to her body. She started looked like a female bodybuilder, maybe even bigger. Her hair was still long and luscious, but it was now framed by her massive shoulders and powerful jawline.

Clara decided to take her measurements again, and she was amazed by the results. Her biceps were now 18 inches, her triceps were 20 inches, and her quads were a massive 24 inches, while still keeping a small and delicate 28 inch waist that contrasted with her thick hips. Her calves were 18 inches, and her forearms were 14 inches. She was getting bigger and stronger by the day, and she couldn't wait to see how big she would get.

As the day went on, Clara continued to grow. She could feel her muscles getting bigger and stronger, and her clothes were getting tighter and tighter. By Saturday evening, Clara was already 6'2" tall, and her muscles were huge. She now looked like a pro male bodybuilder, and she loved it. Her skin was a deep, sun-kissed brown, and her muscles were so defined that she could see the individual fibres rippling beneath her skin.

On Sunday morning, Clara woke up feeling like she was going to burst out of her skin. Her muscles were huge, and her clothes were ridiculously tight. She looked in the mirror and was shocked by what she saw. Her muscles were massive, her biceps and triceps were bulging, and her shoulders were broad and powerful. And she had ripped her pajamas, her bulging quads pulsating out of her torn pajama pants. Her thighs were so big that they touched as she walked, and her calves were so defined that they looked like they were carved out of marble.

Clara decided to take her measurements again, and she was amazed by the results. Her biceps were now 24 inches, her quads were 30 inches, surprisingly her waist stayed the same size. Her chest was now 40 inches, and her breasts were a full H cup. She was getting bigger and stronger by the day, and she couldn't wait to see how everyone in the office would react to her insane transformation over the weekend.

By Sunday afternoon, Clara was 6'5" tall, and her muscles were massive. She looked even bigger than a pro male bodybuilder, her muscles almost as big as the smile on her face. Her arms were bigger than her head, each of her thighs looked like the weigh as much as she did before the virus, and even her breasts seemed to have expanded several cups in size. In her old body, she would have dropped to the ground due to their weight, but now she had a huge wide back to support her girls. Her shoulders were so broad that she had to turn sideways to fit through doorways, and her chest was so deep that she had to wear a special diy bra she made with old shirts and ropes to support her breasts.

As Clara looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but wonder how big she would get. Would she reach 7 feet tall? 7'5"? If Steve could not get his eyes off her star newscaster before, he now would be glued to her at work, just like everyone else.

Clara did her normal morning routine, though it was anything but normal given her incredible growth over the weekend. She looked down at her ripped pajamas, barely hanging to her frame by a few threads, the only thing that still sort of fit her massively muscular frame. The shirt was stretched paper-thin across her broad shoulders and bulging chest, while the pants hung in shredded ribbons from her wide hips and tree-trunk thighs.

Chuckling to herself, Clara decided there was no point in changing out of the ruined pajamas - they'd have to do until she picked up her new outfits from Mrs. Jenkins' boutique. After hastily making herself a high-protein breakfast to fuel her newly enhanced physique, Clara headed out.

She arrived at the boutique a little early, wanting to avoid any gawkers during normal business hours. The lights were still off when she pulled up, so Clara used her huge frame to bang loudly on the front door. After a few knocks, a flustered young woman Clara didn't recognise opened up.

"I'm here to pick up my order," Clara announced, her deep voice rumbling with authority as she struggled to squeeze through the doorway.

The assistant's eyes went wide, her jaw dropping as she stared up...and up...at the towering Amazon woman before her. "Um, w-we don't have any new orders ready for pickup..." she stammered, still gawking shamelessly.

Clara rolled her eyes with a smirk. "It's for Ms. Vidal. Mrs. Jenkins told me my order would be ready on Monday morning, please double check for me darling."

"Oh! Oh my..." The girl's eyes raked over every bulging inch of Clara from head to toe. "Y-you can't be Ms. Vidal! I thought she was a woman in her 40s, b-but you look like you're in your 30s at most! Mrs. Jenkins told me to expect more of a 6-foot lady fitness model, not... uhm...well... uh... you know..."

Clara gave an amused snort, flexing her huge biceps. The ravaged sleeves now completely giving up against her massive peaks of muscle. "Well thank you for the flattering unintentional compliment, dear. But I AM Clara Vidal, reporter for Channel 5 News. I caught that virus everyone's babbling about, obviously and, well..." She shrugged her unfathomably wide shoulders. "You can see the results. Now if you're done gawking, I'd like my order - I'm running late as it is."

The mousy assistant seemed to snap out of her daze, blushing furiously as she scurried toward the back to retrieve Clara's pickup. She returned a few minutes later lugging an oversized garment box, her face straining under its considerable weight. Clara took it from her easily with one hand, drawing a surprised look.

"Everything should be in there, made to your new...specifications," the girl explained somewhat breathlessly. "Let me know if you need anything else, Ms...Um, Ms. Vidal."

"Everything looks good, I will change now in one of your tiny changing rooms, I'll call if I need anything" She said as she made her way to the back, pushing unintentionally the assistant out of the way with her hips. Each rippling movement of her back caused the strips of her tank top to stretch and cut into her burgeoning traps and shoulders.

Inside the cramped changing room, Clara set the box down and quickly dug through the assortment of newly tailored outfits, all made to accommodate her impressively amplified proportions. She settled on a chic white blouse made of a stretchy, crisp material, and a complementary long white skirt with a wide build to avoid restraining her powerful quads. To complete the polished look, she added a smart navy vest that strained ever so slightly against the thickness of her back and lats.

Most of the tops Mrs. Jenkins had wisely made sleeveless to avoid any armhole restrictions - Clara's arms were corded with so much striated muscle, she could makeshift curls just by tensing them. She smirked at her huge guns in the mirror as she got dressed, giving a solid flex that immediately ripped what remained of her shredded pajama top's seams.

Once fully clothed in her stylish yet muscularly-fitted outfit, Clara strode over to her SUV, the wide skirt belling around her thick, sculpted stems. She turned sideways to squeeze through the driver's side door, her broad back and thick shoulders not quite fitting straight through. But at last Clara was buckled in and ready to head for the studio.

"Oh, just wait until Steve gets a look at me now," she mused, giving a devious grin as she put the car into drive...

Clara arrived at the Channel 5 news studio on time for the first time in weeks, actually a bit early instead of her usual tardiness. The office was practically empty, most of the staff not due in for another hour. She made her way to the newsroom, fixing herself a vat of black coffee that could have served a small family.

Settling into her chair with her oversized mug, Clara began scrolling through her emails, reviewing the notes of the president's weekend speech. As she reached to draw the curtains, she felt an odd restriction around her rear. Looking down, Clara realized with an amused snort that her newly amplified bubble butt had wedged itself into the chair backing, stuck fast.

"Well, that's just great," she chuckled, giving an experimental wiggle that did little to dislodge her from the seat.

With a resigned sigh, Clara reached down and gripped the chair arms in her huge hands. She flexed her powerful forearms, the striated muscles flexing as she strained against the chair's confinement. The wooden arm rests cracked and splintered in her vice-like grip until, with a final heave, she ripped them clean off. Her massive rear end was freed from its makeshift prison.

"Forget these dinky little desk chairs," Clara laughed, tossing the ruined piece of office furniture aside with disdain. "I need an Amazon's throne."

She got on her knees to browse on her computer an online furniture retailer, quickly reviewing the limited oversized seating options currently available. With a satisfied nod, Clara ordered an extra-wide, overstuffed couch to serve as her new desk chair. Once the virus became more widespread, she was certain dedicated Amazon furniture would become a prime market.

Checking her watch, Clara realised she should head down to the studio floor to prep for the morning broadcast. As she stood and stretched her long legs, she could hear the telltale sounds of the production crew filtering in and setting up. Smirking to herself, Clara made her way down the hallway, her strong calves rippling beneath her linen skirt.

She rounded the corner into the main studio space, spotting her co-workers and colleagues huddled near the main stage. Steve had his back turned as he appeared to be barking orders to someone off-camera not noticing Clara entering the studio. She approached him from behind, her huge stature blocking a studio light.

"Ayo Rick, turn on light 3 again! And where the hell is that huge bitch? Let me guess, late as usual..." Steve grumbled loudly.

Clara couldn't resist. "Two corrections," she called out in her deep, commanding tone. "I'm not late - I'm right here. And I'm not a huge bitch..." She paused, smirking as she watched Steve freeze. "...I'm the EXTRA huge bitch."

Steve whipped around, his irritated expression melting into one of stunned shock. There stood Clara in all her massively muscular glory, a feminine reinvention of the hulking peak male bodybuilder physique. Her arms were as big around as his thighs, the sleeveless white blouse stretched tight across her bowling ball delts and exaggerated chest taper. Her calves and quads were similarly heart-stoppingly huge, the stretchy material of her skirt pulled taut against their mass.

But most intimidating was Clara's towering height, dwarfing Steve's average 5'10" frame by nearly a foot. He had to tilt his head back at an almost 90 degree angle just to make eye contact with the beautiful yet fearsome Amazon before him. Steve's mouth hung open wordlessly as his eyes raked over every inconceivably amplified inch of the sports reporter. He had no words to see his previous little star reporter towering over him.

Licking her lush lips with a self-satisfied grin, Clara crossed her titanic arms beneath her chest, causing the blouse fabric to groan in protest. "What's the matter, Steve? Cat got your tongue?" she purred in a sultry, challenging tone. "Close that mouth before you start drooling all over the studio."