Clara's Special Spinach (Patreon)

Clara’s Special Spinach
Commissioned by anonymous
Written by HarmonyMotion

Prologue

Two men in large, heavy, dark brown hazmat suits lumbered over a hard, dusty field as they unloaded gallons of radioactive waste water.

“Can’t they just dump this in the water?” one asked, his voice echoing in his own head due to his helmet.

“Har! But then who would pay us? In this economy too…”

“That damned Roosevelt! Where’s our New Deal?!”

“Don’tcha know? Our money ain’t backed by gold no more! That’s the deal, take it or leave it!”

“At least these damn eggheads are giving us work.”

“Think we drove far enough?”

“Who cares. They ain’t payin’ for our gas.”

“Yeah, reckon yer right.”

The pair continued to grouse as they poured the heavy water into the dusty infertile land. The unassuming Alpha particles seeped into the hard earth as it pelted the rock and soil with its unstable core, seeping into a deep, underground water supply…

Chapter 1

A skinny, physically fragile eighteen year old girl puttered around the kitchen. She cracked open fresh, brown eggs, beat them furiously with a wooden spoon into an even yellow mixture, and tossed them into a pan. She scraped the last bit of leftover butter from the tray that her father had churned.

In a boiling pot, Clara sprinkled some salt and drowned the spinach in it. Most of their crop had wilted, what with the Dust Bowl and all. Her father did the best he could, but it wasn’t hard to see that things were slowly floundering. He was getting old in age, losing his wife in childbirth had been a tragedy, and he so desperately needed help on the farm.

But Clara Stockton was in no shape to do it.

They loved each other dearly despite all the hardship. Jon had never given up, would never give up on his doting daughter, and she would always remain by his side. They’d discussed the hard subject of selling the property and going to work for another farm owner, but for today, Jon and Clara were still operating.

“Dad!” Clara shouted as she whipped the large curds in the cast iron pan and sprinkled it with salt and pepper. She plated the whole sloppy mess and drained the boiled spinach, putting that into a bowl. “Dad! Breakfast!”

The sun was still half asleep in the sky. Her father had made no signs of hearing her summons.

Clara stepped into a pair of flimsy, overworn shoes and opened the front door. It was a beautiful cool day, but the dust swirling in the spring breeze aggravated her allergies. She wrapped a towel over her nose and mouth and went out to look for her father. The damned dust bowl was a blight on their way of life, but the expansive fields of spinach looked somehow vibrant this morning. Large, regular leaves created a lush green carpet across the once barren earth. Maybe this was a turning point!

With hope in her heart, Clara went looking for her father. He was in the barn patting Oscar, their workhorse, on the head.

“Oscar, Oscar… I have to replace your shoe. We can’t get any real work done unless you’re ready to go…”

He exhaled loudly and shook his head, sending his spittle flying everywhere. His bulging eyes were obstinate as he continued to chew on bales of hay.

“Dad, breakfast!” Clara greeted her father, her voice muffled by the towel.

He sighed. “Coming, Clara dear.”

He stretched hard, trying to undo the knot in his back from years of overwork. The spinach crop was a boon for sure, but this would just create even more pressure on his knotted body. He couldn’t afford the help.

He sighed as they walked back indoors for Clara’s breakfast.

“Here Dad, eat up,” Clara pushed the meager breakfast toward her father, offering him a larger portion. “The spinach looks especially green and leafy today for some reason. Maybe things will turn around?” she asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Jon answered, wholly unconvinced. He ate all of his scrambled eggs and pushed the bowl of spinach back to his daughter.

“Here you go, Clara. You need to stay healthy, hmm? I’ll make sure to buy some more lard next time so this is a little more palatable too.”

“Dad, you sure?” Clara looked at the spinach halfheartedly.

“Come now. It’s not bad,” he took a bite and tried not to make a face. “Don’t let it go to waste. My daughter needs to be healthy and strong!”

“Haha, okay Dad! I’ll eat it. It would be a treat to get some lard… I look forward to it!”

“Me too, dear.”

Clara dug into the vibrant greens, swallowing it down as she tried to ignore the annoying fuzzy sensation they had on her teeth. She wished she could grow big and strong to help her father, but at 5’5 and frail, that was more of a fantasy than a reality…

She sighed as she dug into the bowl, eating all of the spinach to the very bottom.

Chapter 2

While Jon went out to labor the fields without Oscar, Clara was sweeping the dust out of their modest home. The task usually left her wheezing and coughing, but she was feeling remarkably good today!

What’s more, all of those hard to reach shelves of the upper cabinets were suddenly so… reachable. She didn’t need a stool. She didn’t even need to stand on her tippy toes and swiff her duster around blindly. What was going on?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud ripping sound! The short sleeves of her humble dress wear tearing apart at the seam where her engorged, swollen bicep was flexing as she easily waved her arm back and forth, effortlessly flexing that sudden bulge of sexy muscle, contracting and expanding.

“Oh my god!” the previously diminutive redhead gasped.

She looked at her own arm as she continued to move it mindlessly, mesmerized by the powerful limb under her control. She scarcely believed that that arm belonged to her! It was so different from her usual stick-like arms!

Her wrist was strong, her forearms packed tight with muscle, and her bicep, a wonderful, powerful ball of muscle. Clara felt a warmth flowing through her whole body, but especially in her arm as she flexed it as hard as she could, tearing her sleeve apart entirely as her muscle burned with pleasant heat!

Slowly, she began to process the sensation of the three buttons along the front of her dress pressing against her body. It didn’t hurt—it wasn’t even uncomfortable—but why was it so tight to her all of a sudden?

Clara looked down at her chest. Her dress was, it was… it was bulging with full, fleshy, feminine shape! Her previously modest breasts were absolutely enormous! Those perfect swells blocked the downward view of her own body, and she could even see through the space between her buttons to get a glimpse at her freckled chest and new bosoms.

It was almost unreal. But the sound of the top button whizzing off her dress and snapping her decolletage open was like a pinch to her skin. This was real, alright.

What about her height? Had she really grown that much taller? Clara ran her powerfully cabled arms over her tattered dress, smoothing it to the dramatic curves of her body. She gasped as she touched her absolutely chiseled abdomen. They felt as if they were carved out of marble! With her arms and hands pinching her waist, she could scarcely believe that that was her waist! It was so small! Or maybe her bust and her hips were just that large now…

Down past her flowing hips were her new legs. Long, muscular, and strong. Her thighs were thick with well-defined muscle. She peeked down her back to see her impressive glutes where the middle hem of the dress rested. The modest cream thing used to come down to her knees, but now it was just flicking and swishing along the top of her thighs!

But at least it wasn’t torn like the upper half of her dress, Clara mused.

She went back to admiring her thighs, strong like tree trunks. They rippled with power as she flexed them, sticking one leg in front of her and clenching her muscles as she viewed them from  as many angles as her standing position would allow.

Well, that explains the height, she thought. She must have gained over half a foot since breakfast!

With all this new muscle, improved health, and height, perhaps her time had finally come! She could finally be of use around the farm to help her loving father. He’d never made any suggestion like that, but Clara knew it was to protect her feelings. Hopefully now, her feelings wouldn’t need protecting anymore!

“Dad! DAAAAAAD!” Clara yelled as she made her way outside again. Her hair was swishing down her bare back and flitting around her peripheral vision.

Huh!? Clara immediately ceased her gait. When did my hair get so…

Clara ran her fingers along those new tresses. The surging beauty never thought hair could be so long, so thick, so vibrantly red and shiny! She could spend all day tracing her fingers through it… but no. That, she could do in her private time at night. Now was the time to assist around the farm while the sun was up!

“Dad!!” Clara yelled, astonished by the power of her own voice. Stepping outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air polluted by the dust of the land. The particles went into her lungs and were instantly obliterated by her new and improved physiology. Not that Clara knew that.

All she knew was that she felt great.

Chapter 3

Clara jumped into the world with new eyes. Everything was shimmering and vibrant to her empowered eyes.

“DAD!!” she yelled as she began her routine search for him.

But this time, the routine search took all of ten seconds. She zipped from the front door to the barn in a few long, easy strides and peeked inside. No Jon. Turned around and scanned the spinach field with a turn so fast that it would have looked as if her entire head had blurred for a split second. A quick two second jog to the tool shed found Jon hunched over an anvil, clumsily working with iron.

“Dad! Dad! Look at me! I’m so tall! And I feel great!”

Jon turned his head wearily from the anvil to face his daughter. What he saw was a grown, mature, beautiful woman.

No, not a woman. Woman didn’t do it justice. His daughter looked like a sexy, powerful Amazon.

Was that even Clara!? How had she grown so much? With his bad posture, she was probably taller than him! He measured her height by the double doors to the tool shed. Those flaming red curls on that pretty face reached about yea high on the frame… yep, definitely taller.

And it was more than her body that had changed, Jon noted as he struggled to pull his eyes away from his alleged daughter’s, frankly, far too attractive bosom. Her shyness and withdrawn demeanor were nowhere to be found. But those freckles on her face! And the earnest look in her eyes. And her eagerness to be of use… yes, yes. This had to be Clara. The daughter that he loved and raised all on his own.

“Look, daddy! I feel so strong!”

Clara curled a bicep, which bulged elegantly. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for Jon, Clara’s desire to show off her new body resulted not only in ripping the remainder of her sleeve along the shoulder, but her flexing traps detonated the entire top portion of her dress as if a grenade had gone off inside of it.

“Oh my!” Clara gasped in shock. But… she discovered that she enjoyed feeling the sun beat down on her pale skin and the attention that she was getting from her father.

“Guh! Clara!” Jon averted his eyes as soon as more of her perfect physique came into view.

“Sorry daddy! You… you wouldn’t happen to have something my size now, do you? I’m sorry I ripped this dress. You spent so much money on it for me…” Clara apologized. “But today… today, I’ll take care of the farm! I know I can do it!”

“Okay, okay, punkin. One thing at a time. Are you decent? Can I look yet?”

Clara placed her strong forearm across her chest, covering her nipples. Her firm breasts were too dense to be displaced, even by her own powerful limb.

“Yes, daddy. I covered up the best I could,” Clara giggled.

Jon peeked carefully, gulping as he saw those firm swells on that powerful frame. It wasn’t just his daughter’s freckled breasts or their magnificent cleavage. He could see her rock hard abs on full display. Even after years of backbreaking farm work, he looked nothing like that.

“Okay, punkin. If that really is you.”

“It is! It is!”

“Alright, alright! Let’s get you dressed. Maybe… yeah, maybe you can take care of the farm today.”

“Yay!”

Clara leapt high into the air, smashing her head into the wooden plank above. Her skull split the beam as her arm slid from its covering position. Luckily for them, the entire barn didn’t come crashing down from Clara’s misjudged leap of joy.

“Oops…” she covered her mouth, slipping her arm between her breasts and leaving her nipples in full view.

Jon tried not to drool.

Chapter 4

After trying on all of Jon’s large white cotton tees, all of which were too small and not designed for someone with as dramatic a chest as Clara now sported, the only thing that did the job (woefully) was a pair of large, denim overalls. Clara hooked the shoulder straps over her breasts to retain her modesty. Of course, she didn’t need a bra to support those puppies.

The outfit left her strong arms and sides bare as well. Eager to start, Clara jogged out of the front door so fast, the backdraft nearly lugged Jon off his feet where he stood in his own bedroom. When he realized that she’d moved so fast he could hardly process it, he made his way to the tool shed as quickly as possible.

Clara greeted him with a little wave of her hand. A hand that was holding a heavy piece of lumber at only one end.

“Daddy! I’ll repair the door that I broke with my silly little head. And then I can work on the horseshoe for Oscar, okay? Dad? Hello?”

Still marveling at how easily Clara was handling that 2x4, Jon snapped out of his reverie.

“Um, sure Clara. This is a two person job… we’ll both have to get on either side of it to make sure it’s balanced when we nail it in.”

“Oh, not at all! I’m pretty sure I can handle it by myself. Here, just put this ladder in the middle.”

“Now Clara, you may be strong, but…”

But nothing. Clara blurred and fetched the ladder, placed it on the floor right where she’d instructed, and climbed up to the very top with no worry of balance. In one of her hands was a handful of nails.

“Clara, not so fast! Please!” Jon begged.

But Clara paid him no mind. With the lumber tucked underneath her armpit, she jumped off the ladder precisely so as not to cause further damage. In one swift motion during her hangtime, she chopped the broken piece of the barn in half, removed both ends, and had somehow shoved the new piece into place. She landed back on her tiptoes on the top step of the ladder, holding that piece of wood in place with just the tip of a single extended finger. The ladder didn’t even move during the whole process.

Jon gasped. “Clara! How did you…”

“Watch me!”

She took the nails in her other hand and began throwing them like darts. They embedded through the new piece and into the sides of the door frame, her force judged perfectly so as not to burst through the other side.

Ten seconds later, the entire thing was repaired and secured. She withdrew her finger and brushed the dust off of her palms ostentatiously.

Clara leapt off the ladder and landed on her toes back on the hard earth. Her breasts barely wobbled from the motion.

“Ta-da!”

“Oh, oh, my precious daughter!” Jon was beside himself with joy. “You’re amazing! And a total lifesaver. Why… if you can work like this, we’ll be able to keep the farm, no problem!”

Clara’s eyes misted over with joy. She choked up and let her tears flow with her father. He was usually so stoic—now she knew how hard he’d worked and how little he’d let show.

“Come on, Daddy,” she sniffled. “I still have plenty of work to do.”

“Okay, okay, my lovely daughter.”

Jon offered to help carry all of the horseshoeing tools toward the barn where obstinate Oscar was eating, but Clara handled all of it by herself. Toolbox, anvil, pail full of water, metal hammers… all of it in a single hand, perfectly balanced. They now stood before their beast of burden, who exhaled defiantly in their faces.

“Now dear, look out. You know Oscar likes to kick…”

“Well, let’s see it!”

She led him out and secured him with a rope. Walking around to his rear, she slapped his butt with her open palm gently.

The horse bucked violently, landing both of his hind feet right in her breasts.

“Clara!!” Jon screamed.

“Aw, is that it?” Clara teased the mighty horse. “I didn’t feel that at all!”

She was lying. Sort of. It definitely hadn’t hurt her. Her breasts had barely moved from that vicious kick that would have laid out any other human. But to say that she didn’t feel it… no. It felt quite nice, actually.

“I should know better than to doubt you by now, Clara!” Jon chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Daddy! I’ve seen you shoe Oscar and other horses before! I always thought it was so cool! I know just what to do.”

She grabbed his leg and bent it up, scraping clean all of the farm debris that had gathered on Oscar’s hoof. Then, with just her bare hands, she dug her fingernails in between the metal and Oscar’s actual keratin and simply peeled off the metal implement as if it were an old bandaid ready to be discarded.

Shaping out his hoof now by carving into it with her fingernail, she had a perfectly prepared foot ready to shoe.

“Wow…” Jon watched breathlessly. Not only had she done all that with just a fingernail, her technique was flawless!

“Is that good, Daddy? Now I shape the shoe, right?”

He watched as Clara picked up the shoe and began rubbing it. Rubbing? What was she doing?

It quickly became clear. Her hand was blurring over the metal so fast that she was actually heating it! Her fingers and palms moved over the entire thing thoroughly, through all the grooves and detailed curves of the shoe, making it glow incandescent with heat. When it was sufficiently primed, she took it to the anvil and “hammered” it into shape by tapping it with a tip of her index finger.

Dipping the whole thing in water, a large billow of steam confirmed that Clara had, in fact, produced heat that rivaled fire. No, not rivaled. Way outclassed it.

She brought her completed horseshoe to Oscar’s foot and drove three nails on either side through his hoof wall. Pinching the protruding ends in her fingernails, she sheared the thin metal completely off and sanded his hoof by scraping it with her fingertips.

“Good? If that looks okay, I’ll finish the other three.”

Jon could only nod.

After the work was complete, the only remaining test was to see how Oscar would walk. Clara undid his harness.

“Clara! What are you doing!?”

“Hya!” Clara slapped his butt.

Oscar went running off, looking perfectly comfortable on all four feet.

“He’s running well, Daddy!”

“Clara… you let Oscar free! Who knows where he’s going to go!”

“I know where he’s going. Right back into the barn!”

With that, Clara sprinted after the horse. In less than a gallop of her own, she’d caught up to the six hundred pound horse, lifted it and placed it above both her shoulders, and carried him back to the barn.

Soon, he was locked up back in his shed. Clara and Jon both got the impression that Oscar wouldn’t be messing with her again.

Clara rubbed his head gently.

“Goooood horsey.”

Chapter 5

“Phew! Now that Oscar is shoed, we can have him work the grain mill!” Jon directed.

“Hmm… I have a better idea. Oscar’s had a bit of a traumatic day. Let’s leave him alone for a bit!”

By now, Jon knew better than to protest what his daughter said. He raced to keep up with her brisk pace, but she was still far too fast. Was she really just walking!? He could clearly see one foot on the floor before the other lifted. How was it possible to walk that fast!?

By the time he got to the mill, he saw empty barrels, barrels that had previously been full of wheat. Clara had unloaded all of it into the mill already!?

Suddenly, the machine came to life. It was spinning faster than he’d ever seen in his life. And it was gaining so much speed, he swore he could smell the smoke generated from the grinding stone!

Clara stepped out from the opposite side. As the sturdy handle made another revolution, Clara reached out and tapped it with her palm once again, giving the thing enough acceleration and velocity to continue milling without her involving.

“And now plowing?” Clara asked with a bright smile.

“Let me guess. We don’t need Oscar for that either?”

“Nope!”

They walked to an enormous patch of fallow field, left unseeded by her father. He didn’t have the time to work it, and even if he had, he wouldn’t be able to manage the harvest all by himself… if the crops even came in at all. But just like the spinach, somehow the land looked more firm, more fertile than just a week ago.

“I’m going to go get the plow. Do you mind if I use all the rope, Daddy?”

“Of course not, Clara. But what are you planning?”

Clara disappeared and reappeared with the family’s battered steel plow in one hand and an enormous bundle of thick rope around her other arm. She threw the farming implement to the ground with a loud crash. Then, she bent over and tied the rope tightly along the edge of the plow with blurring hands.

“Watch!” she giggled.

She nudged the plow with her toe, sending it flying outward with incredible force! The rope was unspooling as the large, triangular point of steel looked to be flying over the horizon, but Clara stepped on it with a single foot to anchor it and brought the whole thing crashing down to earth.

With a gleeful smile, she flicked the heavy rope off the ground with her toes and caught it in her hands. In one swift yank, the entire rope began to recoil as the plow raced toward Clara and her father while digging a deep, even groove into the soil. A rooster tail of dirt kicked up behind it, creating a thick wall of dust, as if a tornado had just landed down and was wreaking havoc!

Jon covered his eyes and prepared for the worst as the plow came careening toward them, traveling miles in seconds. With another flick of Clara’s wrist, she snapped the entire thing up and caught it in the palm of her outstretched hand.

Taking a deep breath, Clara pursed out her lips and exhaled hard. The entire layer of dust was blown away, showing off a nice, even trench carved into the dirt.

“Is that good, Daddy?”

Jon opened his eyes gingerly, expecting some kind of catastrophe after a natural disaster. Instead, he was greeted with a serene and perfectly plowed field.

“Good!? It’s great!”

Clara turned to face her father and beamed brightly. She tossed the plow over her shoulder into the distance once again without even looking. Spinning on her heels, she trotted to the next row as she cocked her hip, giving her father a good view of her sculpted rear.

A few more rooster tails of dirt and a few more forceful puffs of her voluminous lungs, the fallow, unprepared fields were now ready for planting.

“What now?” Clara shrugged. “I’m still so full of energy!”

“Clara! You just did… you just did a whole month of work! In a few minutes! You’re not even tired?”

Clara patted the dust off her overalls. There wasn’t a single drop of sweat on her brow. She looked absolutely pristine.

“I know! I feel great. Let’s keep going!”

“Okay… well, these were the fallow fields. We have some overgrown land that needs to be felled. And we could use the lumber during winter…”

“Say no more!” Clara saluted playfully.

Before Jon could even react, he felt the earth quake under his feet. He saw huge oaks with gnarled roots being ripped out of the ground and then tossed toward an empty space near the barn like a javelin. He cringed as the thick trunk arched toward their farm’s structures, only to land precisely between all the buildings on their grounds without leveling anything.

The process continued, thick trunk after thick trunk flying through the air. He could barely make out his daughter hugging the trunks against her torso as she wrapped both of her powerful arms around it, and then easily heaved it out of the ground, roots and all!

Before he knew it, Clara was flying through the air in a parabolic arc before landing in front of him, burying her legs into the earth with her landing all the way up to her calves.

His gorgeous daughter stepped out of the crater and brushed the large chunks of bark out of her borrowed overalls. Her bare arms and the sides of her breasts where the tree must have rubbed against her skin was completely unmarked!

“Come on, Dad! I have an idea for those trees!”

He followed his daughter, unwilling to admit how eager he was to see her next feat. He walked bow-legged to try and hide the burgeoning erection in his jeans. When he thought Clara wasn’t looking, he quickly reached down to try and reposition his uncomfortable erection.

As Jon approached the open area where the trunks were stacked, he nearly fainted as the sound of screeching metal pierced his ears. Worried about Clara’s safety, he sprinted toward the clearing where he found sparks flying from the edge of his axes.

Clara was using her fingernail as a sharpening stone!

The sound ended almost as quickly as it had started. The cacophony was so piercing that Jon was seeing double; two blurry Claras were sharpening both his axes at once, in different locations! Except… one axe wasn’t identical to the other. Those were indeed his two axes.

“Clara!? Are there… two of you?!”

“Don’t be silly Dad! Of course not! It’s just one me. You and me, the two of us!”

Jon rubbed his eyes to try to wipe away the illusion. When he removed his hands from his face, there were indeed no longer two Claras.

There were four.

Four log splitting blocks were set up before her, two on each side. One Clara wielding an axe in each hand with a large piece of tree trunk in between Clara and Jon. And four more Claras refilling the splitting blocks with more lumber as the dual axe-wielding Clara hacked and slashed with both arms, splitting every piece neatly and cleanly.

“There’s… there’s five of you…” Jon gasped.

“Five? Don’t be silly! How could that be possible?” Clara materialized into a sixth one in front of the whole show. A fist rested on her wide hip while she placed her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. Suddenly, a light bulb lit up in her beautiful red-haired head.

“Oh! I must be moving so fast that you see five of me!” she chuckled as the other five continued to work in harmony.

“S-six…” Jon gasped.

All five Claras picked up the lumber and deposited it neatly against the side of the barn. Then the five ghostly images merged back into one solid inexhaustible Clara.

“How about the old fence? I noticed that it’s still broken from that awful windstorm a few months ago.”

“When did you have time to check it out?” Jon gasped.

“When I was chopping the wood. Oh dad, you’re asking such silly questions now,” Clara winked at him.

“S-seven…” Jon muttered.

“Come Dad, come!”

Clara zipped ahead of her father once again, leaving him in the wake of her speed. As he walked across the field at his only-human pace, Clara zipped by him on her way back with the old, broken down posts. Then blurred past him once again with tall rectangular blocks to replace them.

“The-old-ones-can-be-used-for-firewood!” her voice came in and out of focus as she spoke to him at superspeed.

When he finally got there, Clara had driven the new posts deep into the earth. She placed a plank over the post, put her thumb on the head, and pushed it into solid oak as if it were pushing a thumbtack onto a corkboard! Too easy! Maybe…

Clara grinned mischievously.

Why do it with a finger? That was no challenge at all! She’d already pushed nails into Oscar’s hooves with her fingers. But there was another body part of her that protruded wonderfully and was eager, nay, aching for action.

Jon swallowed loudly as Clara began to slip the overall’s straps off of her shoulders. The entire top portion of it fell to hang loosely down her waist, revealing her marvelously sculpted back. Just what was his daughter planning?!

Clara had to suppress her laughter as she heard her dad’s heartbeat racing. Getting back to the task at hand, she held the nail in place on the board, brought her right nipple in line, and pressed that strong, dark cherry nub against the head of the nail.

The feeling of the cold metal against her sensitive erogenous zone thrilled her. She took a deep breath, causing her chest to expand and drive the nail flush against the board. Oh, she could definitely use more of that!

She looked across to the other end of the fence to see how much work there was to be done. Her nipple could do this all day. But she noticed that she’d forgotten the white paint for the fence.

Jon swore he caught a glimpse of Clara’s bare torso, if only for a brief moment. A gust of wind scented with Clara’s fragrance wafted over him and blasted his hair back, then forward. He’d almost missed the vision of a lifetime. There Clara was again, still topless, but suddenly with a paint bucket and paintbrush in her left hand.

Her figure blurred once again. Jon was growing accustomed to it… but that didn’t make the view any less pleasant or halt his arousal. Clara squatted low, middle, high, apparently driving nails against the boards before the entire thing was painted white in what looked to him to be one fell stroke. Board after board went up flawlessly as he admired his daughter’s backside as she showed off her muscled glutes and arched her rugged back.

Unfortunately for him, the show was over all too soon. To his everlasting disappointment, she slipped the shoulder straps back on and clipped them to her front. Her thick red hair swirled as she spun around to look her loving father in the eye.

“So… how about lunch?” she smiled.

Chapter 6

Clara cooked Jon some sausage links and eggs as she boiled another pot of invigorating spinach on the stove. She pushed the links directly with her fingers, letting them touch the cast iron pan directly just for fun. Her other hand would dip into the boiling water periodically and swirl the leafy green vegetables.

The unimaginably strong redheaded beauty salivated as the greens wilted in the pot. She’d never liked their spinach that much before… but something about it just called to her.

She slid the sausage links and eggs to her father and without wasting a second moment, brought the boiling pot to her lips and began to gulp down the spinach, scalding water and all!

The effect hit her instantly.

Her bones crackled as her body surged with pure, Alpha particle energy. Her feet, her calves, her thighs, everything grew denser as her head soared upward from new, even more extreme proportions.

Her abdomen became even more tightly defined, her sculpted 8-pack on permanent display even without flexing. Her arms lengthened with her growth spurt as well, still looking strong and feminine—only the muscle and flesh had become even denser, even more packed with unstoppable power. Her shoulder and hips grew broader in tandem, before she felt a radiating heat building deep in her chest.

The energy built and built, her heart thundering powerfully as it swished superpowered blood through her now eight foot tall body. When even her invulnerable flesh couldn’t take the concentrated forces swirling inside of her, her breasts swelled outward in an incredible expansion of flesh!

Those enormous cups, fitting for her taller, fitter frame, rent the metal buttons and hooks on her father’s overalls apart. Not to be contained, her womanly charms thrust forward, loud, proud, and arrogant—and they had every right to be.

Staggeringly firm, perfect teardrop shape, crowned with proud, well-defined nubs of erotic flesh at the very tip of her curves mesmerized and aroused Jon to heights he’d never known. His trousers had never been tighter, his hard and dripping erection digging uncomfortably into the groin of his pants. And the way Clara was gripping and massaging that flesh, watching it dimple under her powerful fingers when he knew that she was able to drive nails into wood just by breathing! It was almost too much to bear!

“Look at me, Daddy!” Clara moaned, eyes half closed but still peeking and enjoying her father’s reactions. “Come here, stand up!”

Jon did as he was told. Who was he to deny his goddess daughter’s requests? He yelped when his boner hit the table as he stood up. Clara merely giggled.

“Look, Daddy! Your head only comes up to my breasts now! And my breasts are so much bigger than you too!”

“H-honey, maybe you sh-should go cover up…” Jon quivered.

“Mmm… you think we have any clothes that can cover me up as I am now? Cover up these puppies? I don’t think so…” Clara put on a husky purr, delighting in the complete power she had over the world, over her father now.

Jon’s legs were becoming more and more unsteady.

“I’m still feeling a bit hungry and thirsty. Let me just finish up lunch before I get back to work…”

Clara took a huge bite out of her metal cup and sheared the fork right off its handle with her perfect teeth. She chewed it all up and swallowed loudly with a satisfied relish.

“Now Daddy, why don’t you stay in here and rest? You took care of me for so long. Now I can take care of you!”

She walked out of the house, ducking and turning to prevent smashing her perfect head or jutting breasts into the walls and door frames. The ground quaked under each and every of Clara’s heavy footfalls.

Chapter 7

Clara leapt back to the fields where she’d cleared all the trees. It wouldn’t do to have her footsteps tear apart all of the good work she’d done this morning, after all!

Landing knee deep in hard earth, Clara didn’t bother climbing out of that deep hole. Instead, she began to walk, one leg in front of the other. Her dainty toes and feet kicked away hard, dry earth, shattering stone and dirt alike. Once she reached the boundary to their neighbor’s plot, she had plowed a large trench into existence—just by walking!

With a little bunny hop, the eight foot tall superwoman popped out of the hole like a jack-in-the-box and found herself buried knee deep in earth once again, except a few feet over. Again, she walked her way through the dense earth, carving another neat row, parallel to the first.

She was nearly done when she saw a goat approaching their edge of their property. It was their neighbor’s!

“Hey buddy!” Clara greeted it as she finished up the final row and flipped out of it like a gymnast, spiking the landing. The gray thing looked so cute and wise, what with its long haired coat.

Any other person would have been terrified of a charging goat with enormous horns coming head on, but a naked Clara just waited patiently, hands on hips. The goat lowered its head and slammed into her, right into her perfect, harder-than-steel abs!

The contest was never in question. The goat bleated in pain as it took a few steps back, totally dazed.

“You be good now, you here?” Clara rubbed the confused creature’s neck. It stumbled off meekly.

Satisfied with her plow job, Clara pushed off the earth with her bare toes and sprinted toward the barn. With a large bag of spinach seeds and a long pipe in hand, she made her way back to the fields and prepared to get the real work done.

Tossing the seeds into her mouth, she dexterously pushed one forward in her mouth and held it between her puckered lips. With a little spit, like any normal person would emit a cherry stone, Clara sent the seed deep into the trench she’d carve, accurate and delicately enough that it wouldn’t shatter the budding plant latent within.

It was a pity nobody could see her tongue moving inside of her mouth, slithering so erotically as she dragged the seeds to the front like a snaking conveyor belt. She didn’t even have to breathe during the whole ordeal, plowing included! Her lung capacity was so good that she’d taken in enough air to operate beforehand!

Another handful of seeds went in. Another row planted. Soon, the bag was empty, and Stockton Farm was going to be in the full swing of things.

Now all that was left to do was to water it. Clara brought out the long metal tube, drilled holes into it at regular intervals with her pinky, and then hooked it up to a long hose. Aiming at the center of the field, she tossed it over her shoulder and then headed off to the well without even giving the midair sprinkler a second glance as it landed precisely where she wanted. At the well, she pumped so hard and furiously that the water churned through the hose and pipe, spraying water violently and covering the entire massive square footage of their new field!

Jon witnessed the whole thing, but when Clara disappeared from view, he had no idea where she was. That is, until she tapped him on the shoulder from inside the house.

A startled Jon nearly fell over backwards, but Clara’s wrapped her powerful arms around him and held him tight against her nude body. She giggled as her breasts smothered his face.

“Did I do good, Daddy?”

“Mrrf mrrf mrrf…” came his muffled voice.

“Oops!” she chirped as she backed away. “So? How did I do?”

“You’re so amazing, Clara…” he gasped as he tilted his head up to look at his daughter’s beautiful freckled face framed by those flaming locks. She’d already done so much, more than he could have ever hoped. But if she was still willing to work, well… why not?

“Spit it out, Daddy!” Clara giggled. “Don’t be shy!” She pressed her breasts into his face once more, smothering him in her warm flesh and giving him a gentle shake.

“Well… the rest of the farm could use some watering too. Actually, what we really need is proper irrigation. That’s the long term solution. I can’t rely on you to super-water the farm forever, can I?”

“Oh Daddy. You can always rely on me!” She gave him another forceful, pleasurable squeeze against her Amazonian body. “But I’m happy to set up the irrigation for you.”

She ceased the embrace against his lust-addled body, leaving him slightly regretful that he’d requested that she continue working on the farm instead of just hugging. But when Clara vanished from the spot in another loud whoosh, he quickly wobbled his way to the window to get a front row seat for his daughter’s next creative and world-shattering feat.

Amazingly, the ground was rippling with a deep rumbling sound, the neatly plowed rows bulging upward before receding back down. What was happening!? It looked as if some large boulder was tracing the spinach field from underneath systematically! Hard earth, damp earth, accented by crunching sounds when it presumably crashed through roots and boulders… it didn’t matter. The operation took place over the entire farm in a minute.

Soon, Jon’s questions were answered. The lump stopped and burst through the earth. Clara’s head poked out first, followed by the rest of her body as she posed against the backdrop of the setting sun, strong limbs and invulnerable nude body on full, beautiful display!

He watched as she went to the well, spun the handle in a blur and fetched a pail of cold water to clean all the dirt and grime off herself. As the Alpha-fortified water trickled down her muscled curves, she seemed to shudder in pleasure and somehow grow even more dramatically powerful!

Giving her father a little wave, she turned her head toward the nearby river to draw his attention. He made his way out onto the porch to get a good view, and Clara nodded approvingly as afterimages of her in different poses waved to her father as they traced a path to the nearby river.

It was far enough away that his aging eyes couldn’t see his daughter anymore, despite her eight foot stature. But what he did see was a boulder rising into the air before a deep crack gouged through the middle of it. Then it split in half before both halves flew through the air and choked off the river, redirecting its flow to their farm! His eyes grew teary from the sight of a permanent water source branching off and nurturing the Stockton farm. It was everything he could’ve asked for.

Well, everything besides a beautiful, unfathomably strong Clara. He never thought to ask for that before.

She was by his side on the porch again before he could register her movement. The warmth of her skin flushed against his side as she placed a gentle, loving kiss on his cheek.

“Anything else, Daddy?”

“Actually, since you’re asking, there is one more thing…”

A moment later, Clara was in the far distance, separating two mountain ranges. Thousands of years of ancient history and rock formation and erosion, indescribable pressure and forces of nature, all now being manipulated by a powerful goddess in a matter of minutes. One mountain range slid to the left from Clara pushing at its base. Then the other one slid to the right.

Meanwhile, Clara’s vibrating, powerful moan of arousal from using her endless strength to reshape the world echoed all the way back to the farm as it rumbled the very mountain ranges she was pushing, creating violent rock avalanches that shattered against her beautiful body.

The setting sun shone brightly on the Stockton farm.

Epilogue

Jon woke up early in the mornings to prepare coffee and breakfast now while his daughter worked the farm. It was a wonderful reversal of roles that he’d never expected. He did his best to satisfy and refuel his wonderful daughter to the best of his abilities.

As the dark, fragrant aroma of percolating coffee dripped into the pot, he heard the telltale whoosh of her speed as she entered the house… all while the Clara ghosts were still tilling the farm and harvesting the crops.

Sure enough, Clara stood there in the kitchen with a basket full of spinach. Her ghost finally disappeared from the field as the leafy greens seemingly disappeared.

“Dad, ready to go to market?”

She was wearing a new pair of overalls with longer straps and far more material. Affording tailor made clothing was no longer an issue, now that their farm was productive and logistics were an afterthought thanks to Clara’s overwhelming strength and speed.

Still, Clara refused to wear any clothing besides her favorite overalls. No matter what size clothing they got her, she always tore it with a simple flex of her biceps or a swivel of her upper torso. Her body continued to swell with power every day as she ate her spinach, and she fucking loved it. The ground shook in fear under her enormous power and impossible density.

So it was only overalls for Clara. They had to extend the straps every few months. The only permanent feature was the metal clasp that her nipple twisted and distorted out of the way, that delicious erotic nub poking through it and teasing her dad to ultimate distraction on a daily basis.

“Yes, dear. Let’s go to market. We can pick up some flour and lard, and I’ll make you some nice pies. Maybe pick up some apples and cinnamon as well.”

“Ooh Daddy, that sounds great! But I also want spinach pie!” Clara clapped her hands like a giddy child and wiggled her torso. Her nipples dented the brass clasps even further, accompanied by the squeal of bending metal.

“Of course, dear. Of course.”

The Stockton duo began to make the three mile long journey to the nearest hub. Clara dragged multiple wheelbarrows behind her with one hand while Oscar lazed on the farm. Her other hand balanced multiple crates stacked atop each other as Jon sat on her broad shoulder comfortably. Her legs blurred as she walked briskly, keeping her speed down to a mere mile per minute for the sake of her precious cargo and passenger.