barucai

[Story] Miami Nights

Published: January 9th 2025, 8:00:08 am

Hi Hi ✨

Diving back into the fmg-35 universe! And hey, only 10 years till this could be real - fingers crossed! Finally wrote that story idea I've been sitting on. T3&4 members, you're in for a treat - 10 extra images of all the ladies at the club!

📦 Grab the full res images from the attachment section of this post. ⬇️

---

Miami Nights

"Girl, you would not believe what this fool tried last night," Christina laughed, stretching her long legs across the dressing room couch. At 7'6", she had to angle herself diagonally to fit properly. "Man walks in, barely comes up to my chest, and starts acting all tough like he owns the place."

Jade, another dancer who stood an impressive 7'4", rolled her eyes as she adjusted her emerald bodysuit. "Let me guess - another 'alpha male' who can't handle that we don't need their protection anymore?"

"Exactly!" Christina's voice carried her characteristic Venezuelan warmth despite the edge of annoyance. "Talking about how he could 'take care of me' and 'keep me safe.' I just looked down at him and said, 'Honey, the only thing I need protection from is wasting my time.'"

The dressing room of Club Artemis erupted in laughter. It was a scene that would have been unimaginable three years ago - a room full of towering women preparing for their night shifts, their powerful frames making the furniture look like dollhouse accessories.

Christina caught her reflection in the mirror as she touched up her makeup. Even now, two years after the virus had transformed her body, she sometimes had to do a double-take. Her face was the same - high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that could pierce your soul - but everything else had changed. Where she'd once been a petite 5'4", she now stood at 7'6", her muscular frame a testament to the virus's effects.

"Remember what it was like before?" she mused, her mind drifting back. "Always looking over our shoulder, needing bouncers just to walk to our cars..."

Maria, a relative newcomer to the club who'd only been in the industry post-virus, looked up from her phone. "Was it really that bad?"

Christina nodded, her expression growing serious. "Mamita, you have no idea. Let me tell you about my last night working before I got the virus..."

The music from the club pulsed through the walls as Christina settled into storytelling mode, her voice taking on a distant quality as she remembered.

"It was a Friday night, just like any other. I was leaving work around three in the morning. Back then, I always parked under the streetlight, you know? Had my pepper spray in one hand, keys between my fingers in the other. Jorge, our bouncer, always walked us to our cars, but that night he was dealing with some drunk idiots inside."

She paused, absently running a hand through her long dark hair. "I thought I could make it the half block to my car. Big mistake. These three guys had been watching the club all night, waiting. They started following me..."

"What happened?" Maria leaned forward, completely engrossed.

"I ran," Christina said simply. "Ran like hell in six-inch heels, praying I wouldn't trip. Made it to my car just in time, hands shaking so bad I could barely get the key in the lock. That was the last night I worked before getting sick. When I came back two weeks later..." She gestured to her transformed body with a knowing smile.

"Girl, I remember when you came back," Jade chimed in. "Walked in here like a goddess, had to duck through the door. Poor Jorge's eyes nearly popped out of his head."

Christina laughed at the memory. "He tried to give me the usual safety talk - 'text when you get home, park under the lights.' I just picked him up in a hug and said, 'Papi, I think I got it covered now.'"

The room filled with knowing laughter. They'd all experienced similar moments of realization about their new physical capabilities.

"But you know what's funny?" Christina continued, her voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. "The money's better now, sure. We're 'exotic' in a whole new way. But what I love most is just... feeling safe. Walking down the street at night, not having to look over my shoulder. That's worth more than all the tips in the world."

Maria nodded slowly. "I never worked before the virus, but my sister did. She used to tell me horror stories. Now she's a bouncer at Honey's downtown - how's that for irony?"

"Speaking of changes," Jade interjected, checking her phone, "y'all see the new regulations they're talking about? Some politicians trying to argue we don't need male bouncers anymore, saying it's discriminatory hiring."

Christina snorted. "Please. Jorge's family. Besides, he's the best damn bartender we've got now."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. "Ladies, five minutes till doors!"

The dressing room burst into activity as final touches were applied to makeup and outfits. Christina stood, her head nearly brushing the ceiling, and gave herself one last look in the mirror. Her royal blue lingerie set, custom-made like all her clothes these days, highlighted every curve of her powerful frame.

"Ready to make some money?" she called out to the room.

A chorus of enthusiastic responses followed as the women filed out, ducking through the doorway one by one. The heavy bass from the club grew louder as they emerged into the hallway, the smell of perfume and excitement filling the air.

Christina paused for a moment, watching her colleagues ahead of her. Each woman moved with a confidence that came not just from their size, but from knowing they were truly in control of their space. No more fear, no more need for protection. They were their own protection now.

As she stepped onto the main floor of Club Artemis, the energy hit her like a wave. The club had been renovated post-virus, with higher ceilings and reinforced furniture to accommodate its transformed employees. The crowd was typical for a Friday night - a mix of locals and tourists, men and women alike, all coming to experience what had become one of Miami's most unique attractions.

Christina spotted Jorge behind the bar, efficiently mixing drinks while chatting with customers. He caught her eye and gave her a warm smile - the same protective big-brother smile he'd always had, even though she now towered over him by nearly two feet.

"Time to work," she whispered to herself, straightening to her full height and letting a confident smile spread across her face. The night was young, and Miami was waiting.

The club's atmosphere shifted as the amazons took their positions. Christina made her way to her favorite spot by the main stage, her height allowing her to survey the entire room. She noticed a group of businessmen in the corner, probably in town for one of the many conventions that kept Miami's nightlife booming. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene - some with appreciation, others with obvious discomfort at being surrounded by women who could literally pick them up with one hand.

"First time at Artemis?" she asked, approaching their table. Her voice carried easily over the music, warm and inviting despite its natural depth.

The men looked up - way up - taking in her impressive height. One of them, wearing an expensive suit that screamed 'corporate executive,' managed to find his voice first.

"That obvious, huh?" he asked, trying to maintain his usual air of authority despite having to crane his neck to meet her eyes.

Christina laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Let's just say I know that look. I'm Christina." She pulled up a chair, carefully lowering herself to their level - a technique she'd perfected over the past two years. "Welcome to Miami's premier amazon experience."

As she chatted with the group, she couldn't help but remember her first days back at work after the transformation. The awkwardness, the broken furniture, the countless apologetic "sorry!"s as she accidentally bumped into everything and everyone. Now, two years later, she moved with a grace that belied her size, years of dancing experience combining with her new physical reality to create something unique.

"So," one of the younger executives ventured, clearly trying to impress his colleagues with his boldness, "do you all have some kind of special... training? For handling your strength, I mean?"

Christina's smile didn't falter, though she'd heard variations of this question countless times. "Honey, we're professionals. Would you ask a surgeon if they had special training not to accidentally kill their patients?"

The table erupted in laughter, even the nervous ones joining in. Christina had learned early on that humor was the best way to handle curiosity about their condition. It put people at ease while maintaining boundaries.

"But seriously," she continued, switching smoothly into what she thought of as her 'educational mode,' "the virus changed more than just our size. It's like... imagine suddenly being upgraded from a compact car to a luxury SUV. Takes some getting used to, but eventually you learn exactly how much space you need, how to move, how to handle yourself."

She demonstrated by picking up a champagne glass with exquisite delicacy, not a drop spilling despite her massive hands. "We adapted. The world adapted. And here we are."

The night continued in its familiar rhythm. Christina moved between tables, danced her sets, and kept an eye on her surroundings - old habits died hard, even when you were nearly eight feet tall and stronger than any potential threat.

Around midnight, she noticed a commotion near the entrance. A clearly intoxicated man was arguing with Jorge, his voice rising above the music.

"This is bullshit! I'm not paying those prices just to look at some freak show!"

Christina was moving before she even consciously decided to. Within seconds, she was behind the man, her presence casting a literal shadow over the situation.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked, her voice quiet but carrying an unmistakable authority.

The man spun around, ready to continue his tirade, but the words died in his throat as he found himself staring at her midsection. His neck craned back, and back, until he finally met her steady gaze.

"I... uh..."

"Jorge," Christina said, not breaking eye contact with the troublemaker, "why don't you take five? I'll handle this."

Jorge nodded, hiding a smile. He'd seen this scene play out enough times to know how it would end.

Christina placed a hand on the man's shoulder - gently, but with enough pressure to make her strength clear. "Now then, we have two options here. You can either apologize to my friend Jorge, pay the cover charge, and come in to have a good time... or I can show you exactly how strong us 'freaks' are by carrying you out to the street. Your choice."

The man's face went through a rapid series of emotions - anger, fear, embarrassment, and finally resignation. He mumbled an apology to Jorge and slunk away into the night.

"You didn't have to do that," Jorge said as Christina returned to her spot. "I can handle the tough guys."

She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "I know, papi. But why should you have to? Times have changed."

Later that night, as the club began to wind down, Christina found herself back in the dressing room, counting her tips while chatting with Jade and Maria.

"Not bad for a Thursday," she mused, sorting through the bills. "Though I swear, if one more person asks me to pick them up..."

"At least they're asking now," Jade laughed. "Remember when they used to just try to climb us like trees?"

Maria, who'd been quiet for a while, suddenly spoke up. "Can I ask you something, Christina? Something serious?"

Christina looked up, noting the younger woman's thoughtful expression. "Of course, mamita. What's on your mind?"

"Do you ever... miss it? Being normal-sized, I mean? Sometimes I look at old pictures of my mom, before she changed, and I barely recognize her. Sometimes I barely recognize myself."

The room fell quiet, the distant thump of the club's last song providing a subtle backdrop to their conversation. Christina took a moment to consider her answer.

"Honestly? Sometimes. Not the fear, not the vulnerability. But sometimes I miss being able to buy clothes off the rack, or fit comfortably in my old car, or hug my abuela without having to kneel down." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "But then I think about all the things I can do now, all the ways I can protect myself and others, and I wouldn't change back even if I could."

She reached out and squeezed Maria's hand - carefully, always carefully. "We're not freaks, and we're not monsters. We're just women who got dealt an unexpected hand and learned to play it well. Really well." She winked, making Maria laugh.

"Besides," Jade added, "have you seen the new clothing line That's coming out? Finally, some proper fashion for us amazons."

"Speaking of fashion," Christina said, standing and stretching, her fingertips brushing the ceiling, "anyone want to hit up that new breakfast place tomorrow? The one with the reinforced chairs?"

As they made plans for breakfast, Christina caught her reflection one more time in the mirror. She saw beyond the height, beyond the strength, to the woman she'd always been - just with a few extra feet and a lot more confidence. Miami's nights weren't always kind, but they were hers now, truly hers, in a way they'd never been before.

The last customers were filing out as Christina gathered her things. She changed into a comfortable maxi dress - custom-made, like everything else in her wardrobe now - and headed for the exit. Jorge was locking up the bar, and she gave him a quick hug goodbye.

"Text when you get home!" he called out, more out of habit than necessity.

Christina laughed, the sound echoing through the empty club. "Always do, papi. Always do."

Stepping out into the Miami night, she took a deep breath of the warm, salty air. The street was alive with the usual late-night crowd - partiers heading home, early-morning workers starting their day, and fellow amazons going about their business. No more fear, no more looking over her shoulder. Just another night in paradise, eight feet closer to the stars.

As she walked to her car - a custom-modified SUV that could actually accommodate her frame - Christina smiled to herself. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities, and new stories to tell. But for now, she was content in the knowledge that she'd found her place in this changed world, standing tall and proud under the Miami moon.

The End