# Major League Weight Gain - by Angel Knight (~BBW, Realistic, ~~WG)



## Angel Knight (Jul 28, 2010)

_~BBW, Realistic, ~~WG_ - The story of a promising young athlete

*Major League Weight Gain, Part One
by
Angel Knight​*
This was, Melody decided, entirely too much pressure for a teenager to have. She felt the presence of the crowd behind her, silent as it waited for the pitch to arrive. She was waiting too, but the pitcher at the mound seemed to be more than a little bit nervous. She had long gotten over the fact that the pitcher was, in fact, a man. A boy, really. Melody was, as far as anyone could tell, the only female to play on a boy's baseball team deep into high school in the modern era. Not just any school, either. She played for one of the best high school baseball programs in the entire country. Even more than that, she was the star, leading the team in every relevant statistical category. Still, the pressure had never been quite like this before. The boy who was trying rather ineffectually to use the Randy Johnson stare down on her was the star of his team as well. At 6'1 and 220 pounds of solid muscle, he had one of the top ERAs of any high school pitcher in the country. Tonight he had pitched shut-out ball through the first eight innings. That didn't seem to be giving him much confidence in this spot, however, given his apparent nervousness.

She always had been far and away better than any girl her age, and she left most boys in the dust as well. Call her a freak of nature, or just gifted by unusually good genes on both sides of her family. Her father, absent throughout most of her childhood and even at this seminal moment, was a Major League Baseball player, a perennial All-Star and one that looked like he'd be holding onto his career as long as he could. Just like in other important moments in her young life, he was traveling with his team. Her mother, by contrast, had sacrificed her professional life for her child. She had been a professional model when she had given birth to Melody, and off and on for a few years later. Before she entered pre-school, however, her mother had retired to support her child's growth and development.

Concentration was usually a strong point in Melody's game, and she consciously recognized that she was being distracted by the moment. The only reason she hadn't been struck out yet this at-bat was because the opposing pitcher seemed to be even more flustered. The umpire gestured for him to continue with the game, and he settled into his stance. It was the bottom of the 9th, and Melody's team was losing 1-0. There were two outs, but they had a runner on first and third. That nervous boy who was just about to work himself up to pitching to her had called for time when he had fallen behind on the count to her by throwing a third ball to just one strike. Melodys eyes flicked to the right for what must have been the hundredth time during the game, just long enough to catch a glimpse of her mother watching from the stand.

She was the spitting image of her mother when she was younger, though perhaps a bit taller. At 5'10" she was tall, and probably not done growing taller. Melody was 133 pounds of lean muscle, possessed of perfectly shaped B cup breasts, and would have had her pick of any boy in the school if she had time for anything but baseball. That, and her height tended to intimidate those less confident in their own masculinity. Her blonde hair was normally long and flowing, but currently it was tucked away under her batting helmet.

Melody was broken out of her distracting reverie by the image of the pitcher winding up. He was coming in low with a fastball, deciding he was not going to walk the bases loaded. She made adjustments quickly, snapping the ball with a loud CRACK as she hit across her body. As soon as the ball left her bat she knew it was a double, and the crowd did too. Despite the fact that at least half the packed masses of the high school stadium were fans of the other team, it sounded like nearly everyone had broken out into a cheer. She took first base and watched as the two runners took home plate, securing the victory for her school. She threw down her batting helmet for the beleaguered equipment manager and joined the celebration, a mass of teenage boys leaping up and down joyfully in their victory, not caring that at least half of them felt she was not really a part of the team. That was something she had gotten used to, and it didn't matter to her as long as she could play.

The stadium's loudspeakers were inviting the crowd back to watch next season's games and to file orderly out of the stands. The announcer needn't have added for them to drive home safely; technically there was no drinking at high school sporting matches. Melody separated from the rest of the players as they split to go to the boy's locker room. That was one of the perks of being a girl on a boy's team: you had all the facilities to yourself. She stepped off of the grass and onto the concrete, hearing her cleats scraping as she started to walk off.

"Melody! Melody Hardison!"

She froze as she heard the sharp tone of the woman's voice behind her. This was something she was dreading, and part of why the pressure had been greater on her than it normally would have been, even considering this was the most important and final game of her team's season. Melody turned around to face a certain Victoria Masters, one of ESPN's many junior reporterettes, and evidently the one that had drawn this low-end assignment. Melody knew that one of the national networks was supposed to be here for this game - it had been mentioned in the local newspaper - but she didn't think they were going to try for an interview. Victoria came running after her, a difficult thing in heels on the pavement of her high school parking lot. Her camera man was in tow, nearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of equipment he was carrying. Obviously the Disney-owned sports network had not sprung for much support in this assignment. It was understandable, really. High school sports were not exactly national news, even when the story was about a pretty girl who had managed dominated in a boy's sport at a high level. Even when that pretty girl was the daughter of a big-league All Star. Melody took a deep breath and turned around, resisting the urge to put her hands on her hips. She doubted she could intimidate this reporter, despite being several inches taller than her even when she was wearing heels.

"Yes?" she managed to get that word out in a sweet voice that conveyed none of the terror that she felt inside.

"Victoria Masters, ESPN." The young reporter had finally caught up to her, apparently having rushed out of the stands just as soon as Melody had driven in the winning run. She was twenty-three, having just recently graduated with honors from a major university. Having only been with the network for a short amount of time, she was still pulling the most minor of stories. She knew that whatever work she did would likely get at most fifteen seconds on SportsCenter, if that. Still, she managed to bring the same outward enthusiasm to each and every assignment. That, along with the fact that she was gorgeous, had endeared the young brunette to the viewers already. She wasn't on the same level as someone like Erin Andrews, but it was only a matter of time. "Can I have a moment of your time, Miss Hardison?"

"Sure," Melody managed to stammer out her response without looking too embarrassed, though her cheeks did flush red. She had a heart-shaped face, its perfect features no doubt looking quite good to the camera that was now visibly turned on and bearing down on her. Inwardly, Melody was trying to summon up everything she knew about trite athlete responses from years of following her father's every word. 

"You allowed only two hits, and the only run your team gave up was due to an unforced error by your third baseman. In addition, you drove in the tying and winning runs. How do you feel about your performance tonight?" Victoria was dressed in a sharp skirt and sweater, tight around the chest in what was no doubt an attempt to ingratiate herself to the network's target audience. Melody noticed that the skirt exposed her toned calves. She was probably used to running in heels. The way her brown eyes were focusing on Melody like a hawk, however, made her fairly certain that there was brains to accompany her beauty. This was the softball pitch before she would bring the heat.

"I feel pretty good. The whole team did pretty good. I'm just happy that I could help bring them home. They had to get on base first." She took a deep breath, hoping that her large blue eyes didn't give her the look of a deer in the headlights. "I shouldn't have let them get a runner on in the fifth inning. That was my fault. Jack-" She paused, as she realized no one watching this on TV was going to have any idea who she was talking about. "-the third baseman had a tough play to make, but it was my fault for letting the runner on. I need to work on improving my game."

"Really." From the way Victoria was smiling, Melody had the distinct feeling that she had just stepped into something. "You've put together one of the most dominant seasons in men's high school baseball in both hitting and pitching and you need to work on improving your game?" Gorgeous Victoria paused to look down at her notes, before looking back up at her subject. "My sources tell me that you've recently gotten your GED. Can you confirm that you're going to leave school early to try and play mens baseball in college?"

"I.." Melody was certainly caught by surprise on that one. Her academic records were not supposed to be accessible by the media, and it was a breach of journalistic ethics at minimum that she had access to them. No one was supposed to know about her plans except for her mother. Her father didn't even know. They had never been close on a personal level, and beyond that he had never really shown much support for her athletic ambitions. "...I, um..I have no comment." Melody turned and started to jog away, trying to be as casual as possible. It didn't help that she then broke into a sprint and took the steps up to the girl's locker room two at a time. The metal door was pulled open rapidly as she sought refuge inside.

Meanwhile, Victoria had gotten exactly what she had wanted. More than that, even. Her reaction was far better than an outright refusal. With that kind of footage she might even be able to turn this into a national story: "Daughter of future hall of famer to leave high school early, play college baseball with boys." It was just the kind of piece to increase her own national profile. If it threw the life of a teenage girl into chaos, that wasn't her problem. 

Inside the locker room, Melody was trying to calm down. Kicking a locker door hadn't done wonders for her right foot. It hurt, even through the cleat. She had taken off her ball cap and was sitting down on the bench when the entrance to the locker room open again. It was her mother. The long-suffering athlete's wife was still, by everyone but her daughter's standards, a young woman. She'd married young, and had given birth to her only child a year later. At thirty five, there really was no reason why she couldn't still be out there modeling. Blonde like Melody, she was a full two inches shorter at 5'6". Being pregnant with Melody had added pounds to her formerly svelte figure, and each passing year had added some more in turn. At 170 pounds she was comfortably overweight, maintaining an hourglass frame and having breasts which were easily DD cups. She wore a skirt the went just a little bit past her firm but fleshy thighs, along with a t-shirt and a jacket for the cool night air. Despite her being a good deal past her "fighting weight," so to speak, she still wore the same kind of clothes as she had when she was a model.

"That reporter looked awfully happy, Melody." She set her over-the-shoulder purse, an expensive yet tasteful number that was worth several hundred dollars, down on the bench and moved closer to her. There were some benefits to being married to an athlete worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Her hands were both occupied. One was holding a milkshake, the other a hefty tray of nachos that looked already half eaten.

"That's because I screwed up, royally." She removed the scrunchy that kept her hair tied up neatly behind her, before shaking her head and letting it spill down the back of her uniform. "She knows. She knew. I really wanted to keep this quiet until we were sure it was the right thing for me." Melody would never open up emotionally in front of her teammates. For her to show weakness in front of the boys would be to ruin whatever respect she had managed to garner thus far. With some she'd never get respect. She accepted that, too. To them she'd always be a rich, feminist girl who felt entitled to do whatever she wanted because her father was a baseball star.

"Well, it can't be that bad, honey. Besides, I doubt they're going to show that tape. No one wants to see a reporter make a girl cry on TV." Though her mother's tone was teasing, not every mom would manage to deliver that line without their daughter getting hurt. She managed to pull it off, though, even as she stuck the straw of her milkshake under Melody's mouth.

"I am -not- crying." There was a sheen of water in Melody's big blue eyes, but it was true that she was not, technically, shedding tears. She took a sip of the milkshake, one that turned into an extended slurp. It was chocolate, after all. Then she pushed it away with her hand. "Mom! You know I can't have stuff like that."

"I know, I know!" Her mother laughed, her own eyes shining with mirth as she took the milkshake back. "Have to stay in perfect shape if you want to compete with the boys, after all. Still, you're going to need to get stronger fast if you're going to college, right? Got to bring your velocity up on your fastball, I think you said. You'll be putting on weight one way or another."

Melody laughed and reached out to take a nacho from her mother's tray - just one. She had a pretty good velocity for a high school pitcher, especially for a female. It was only at the beginning of this last school year that she had even begun lifting weights, and she still hadn't even approached her physical peak. She was still positively lanky, despite her respectable breast size. "Not that kind of weight." She smiled as she realized she had completely forgotten what she had been upset about, which was probably her mother's intention. "I guess there's no reason for me to get cold feet now. This is what I've always wanted, right?"

"I can't say I've ever understood why you want to follow your father so much, honey, but it's your dream. If you want to pursue this baseball thing, then I say you should do it. You've already made it further than your father ever thought you would. If you can make it in college on a men's team, he'll have to pay attention to you. And who knows?" She set the milkshake down and used her free hand to ruffle Melody's hair, using her free hand take a few more bites of the nachos. "Maybe you can go further. You've never been one to let other people stand in your way, Melody."

"You're right." Melody used her teeth to help her remove the batting glove from one of her hands, before taking a nacho from her mother's tray. "As long as I have your support, I can do anything." She smiled, before biting into the chip with a satisfying crunch.

_~To be continued~​_


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## samster (Jul 30, 2010)

Great work are a really good first story! Can't wait to read more


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## brucejedi (Jul 30, 2010)

This is fantastic so far. I sure hope you do with it what I'm hoping you do with it.


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## tarquin (Jul 31, 2010)

Great stuff! Looking forward to next installment.


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## mrbill619 (Aug 17, 2010)

Kind of just bumping this. Really want to see where this is going.


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## Angel Knight (Dec 10, 2010)

*Major League Weight Gain, Part Two*

It was an adjustment, treating the pitching machine as one's mortal enemy. It helped to personalize the life-or-death battle between pitcher and hitter, even if the stakes were not quite as high as she had convinced herself they were. Just another mental trick, Melody figured, that athletes used to separate themselves from the pack. It wasn't working for her right. The blue metal contrivance just sat on its stand and waited about thirty seconds before unemotionally making a WHOOSH sound and spitting out a ball right over the plate. She crushed this one, watching it fly deep into the outfield. Her large blue eyes squinted in the bright sun as tried to judge whether that would have been caught if the defense had been playing in. After a moment's thought, she decided she could have probably stretched that into a triple.

Melody had only been at the University for a few months, but the eighteen year old college freshman had already begun to thrive in her new surroundings. She hadn't thought it would have been this been this easy, back when she started. The national media had made a story out of her escapades, even if it was only a minor one. She had received dozens of interview requests, mostly from small publications with a socio-political angle on the issue. There was even a piece about how her participation in men's college athletics could potentially destroy Title IX, the guideline that kept the number of sports scholarships even between the genders. The story had died down briefly, before quickly sprouting up again right before the college baseball season started again. Mostly an unwatched sport before, they actually aired her first game on ESPN.

The expectation was that she was going to be a failure, and that this whole thing would end with her being cut from the team after a failure to perform. It was a surprise to almost everyone when she turned out to be one of the better players in college baseball. Thus far she had the lowest ERA in NCAA Division 1, with the highest batting average among pitchers by a large margin. Academics had been a pleasant surprise for her as well. She had come into college with a large amount of AP credits, allowing her to keep her course load to a minimum. This had allowed her to spend more time on her passion for baseball, which meant she was working in the batting cages, developing new pitches or lifting weights long after the other players had retired to their dormitories.

The new scenery had wrought something of a change on her physique as well. In a few short months she had grown another inch, bringing her height to a full 5 feet and 11 inches. Melody hoped she would stop there, deciding that there was a definite stigma to a girl being 6 feet or taller. Naturally, she assumed that biology would do her bidding rather than the other way around. She had begun to lift weights in order to increase her upper body strength. Combining this with a meticulously calculated increase of 500 calories per day had caused her to start gaining. Since leaving high school she was up a full 17 pounds of mostly muscle, bringing her weight up to a more respectable 150. In addition, her breasts had gone up a full cup size to a C. She was still on the lean end of things given her height, but she had begun to acquire a more womanly figure.

The sororities had not failed to notice this. Despite the fact that she would obviously have little time for group activities, Melody was heavily recruited by most of the Greek organizations on campus. Maybe it was having a famous father that made her one of the more popular girls on campus, or maybe it was being one of the best looking coeds the university had seen in quite a long time. Either way, she had the "it" factor. She had her model mother's luck with skin; her's was a flawless, almost naturally hairless alabaster complexion, tanned golden from endless afternoons running or practicing in the afternoon sun. Thanks to the wonders of modern sun block, she was neither cancer ridden nor prematurely aged by her obsession. Melody knew this part for a certainty - her mother had insisted on routine dermatology appointments as a precaution.

In short, while she had been laboring in obscurity in high school, the phenomenon of a beautiful girl and scion of a future hall of framer dominating a men's sport at the collegiate level had captured the public's imagination. She had been receiving all kinds of attention lately, up to and including giving out autographs to her fellow students in class. So when Melody caught the glint off someone's watch as they approached her from the outfield, someone accompanied by another figure, she could almost be excused for assuming these were more autograph seekers. The pitching machine released another ball with that same WHOOSH sound. This one she bunted, using her bat to deliver the tiniest love tap to the ball and send it rolling slowly down the third base line. It wouldn't due to scare off people by sending a round, high speed projectile whizzing towards their heads, after all.

It wasn't until the two of them got closer that she realized the two of them were not fellow college students. One of them was a fit man in his early sixties, wearing a suit that looked as expensive as any her father had ever worn. He had the sort of weathered tan that probably came from a lifetime of yachting. With his eyes shrouded by designer sunglasses, he was the very image of the cool, confident millionaire. The other man, however, she recognized. He was in his late forties, and his chocolate skin practically gleamed in the sunlight. The man was several inches taller than her, with a barrel chest that she knew was capable of tremendous power. He was Mark Colson, legendary former player and current manager in the big leagues. She had met him once or twice before, at a family function back when her father had been his teammate. She doubted her remembered - she was barely old enough to remember it herself. Melody watched as he knelt down in the infield grass and unplugged the extension cord providing power to the pitching machine.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Melody just stared at the two of them. Then she used her aluminum bat to knock off the packed dirt of her cleats, set down the bat, and nervously cleared her throat.

"Mr. Colson." She smiled graciously to one of the legends of her sport, extending it to the well-dressed man as she took off her batting helmet and started to remove her gloves. "Sir." She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was dirty and sweaty, not looking her best when meeting one of the people she had tried to model her budding career after.

"Charming. Just charming, like you said she'd be, Mark." It was the millionaire who spoke first, his Texas accent making him sound like some kind of TV oilman. He removed his sunglasses to reveal twinkling green eyes and an expression that conveyed the most sincere of intentions. It was, in Melody's limited experience, the mark of an expert salesman. He reached out to shake Melody's now bare hand, even as Mark Colson was slowly getting up from unplugging the pitching machine. Melody remembered he had sustained a lingering back injury in the course of his long playing career. "Gorgeous, too. Even better looking in person."

"Uh..." Melody wasn't one to get offended, and besides, technically that was a compliment. The reason she was speechless was more due to the fact that this whole scenario was like something out of a dream. Hall of Famers and businessmen didn't drop by randomly to compliment her on her looks every day, after all.

"What Mr. Weathers is trying to say-" Colson was trying to help her out, keeping the grimace from his voice as he finished standing up, but the other man interrupted him.

"Call me Bill, please." He smiled, showing porcelain white teeth that Melody's mother would have envied.
 
"What Bill is trying to say is that he's here to make you an offer."

Suddenly Melody got the distinct impression that Colson was not here entirely of his own free will. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking like an outfielder who'd had a little too much Gatorade during the 7th inning stretch.

"An..offer?" This whole "befuddle the teenage girl" game was going way too far. If it went on for too much long she'd sound like a complete dunce, given the lack of intelligent answers. She dropped her batting helmet at her feet, then tucked her gloves into the back pocket of her uniform. Her recent weight gain of mostly lean muscle mass had given her quite a tight little rear, though it was more substantial than it had been.

"From both of us, really." Mr. Weathers smiled that million-dollar smile again. "I'd like to make you the face of a new league I'm starting. Women's fast-pitch softball. Mr. Colson here has already agreed to manage for one of our 16 teams." With this, Mark Colson managed a weak smile. It was clear he was not totally onboard with this idea. "And that's just for starters. This thing is going to be big. Bigger than big. I think we'll manage better ratings than the NHL within the first year."

Melody couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was flattering for her to be approached like this, and you didn't get to be as good at something as she was without developing a bit of an ego, but this was hard for her to swallow. "Well sir, I'm sorry you wasted your time coming out here, but if you took the time to learn about me then you'd know I'm trying to be the first girl to play for a Major League Baseball team. I haven't worked as hard as I have in order to play in obscurity on some cable network no one watches." Melody's face reddened as she realized she had been more honest in replying than she intended to. "No offense, sir. Besides, I've never even played softball." 

Colson let out an amused laugh, quickly stifled. Bill Weathers, however, didn't look the slightest bit deterred." Beautiful, charming, honest -and- smart." He whistled appreciate. "I can see I've really struck gold, here. Listen, honey - you don't mind if I call you honey, do you?" He continued without waiting for her reply. "What's the best that's going to happen with this dream of yours? You play a few years of college ball, tool around in the minors and then make a debut for some team out of the pennant race late in the season? Don't expect to be the next Jackie Robinson here. You'll be a novelty, and you'll piss off at least half the male fans of the sport with your statement that a rare woman can play almost as well as a mediocre man in the highest level of the game."

Whereas before he had been complimentary, Melody was now experienced the dark side of his negotiating skills. While she knew that he was deliberately diminishing her chances in order for her to agree to his offer, a part of her could see his logic. Her mind was swirling now, not prepared for this carrot and stick approach the man had skillfully unleashed.

"Now the good news, honey. You can be bigger than Jennie Finch. Sure, she had Sports Illustrated covers. Some of her games were covered by ESPN, but she didn't have a league to back her up, one that I plan to promote heavily, with you as the face. You're every bit as good of a pitcher as she was in her prime, and you can hit. Plus, you're a knockout. Mark here will be your manager."

At this Mark Colson managed a weak smile. No, this definitely wasn't something he was completely comfortable with. Melody started to open her mouth to say something, but Mr. Weathers didn't allow her the opportunity. "Now, you don't have to answer now, honey, but you oughta think about it real hard over the next few days." He took a business card out of a leather wallet that could have sufficed for a down payment on a car and handed it to her. "I've got endorsement deals lined up for you, and an eight figure contract ready to go if you'll be my headliner. I'd rather it be you than the others girls on my list, but the time is right for this league either way. You think about it."

Speechless and stunned, Melody managed to utter some curt pleasantries for the rest of this impromptu meeting, before she was once again left alone in the infield. She had a lot of thinking to do, indeed. Only briefly did she consider returning to batting practice, deciding in the end that she would be too distracted to gain anything from it. Instead she cleaned up after herself and retreated to the women's locker room. Thus far the locker room had been the most awkward experience of playing with a men's team. Just like in high school, she had used the women's locker room. It was segregation, after a fashion, but she welcomed the privacy. 

With no one else in the showers, she was able to run the hot water long enough that would cause an environmentalist to scream. She sat there on the tile floor, her arms hugging her body as she debated whether accepting the man's offer would be selling out her dream. Melody had almost forgotten that she was in a semi-public place when she heard a familiar voice speak.

"So, you gonna sit there forever, or what?" Melody looked up to meet the green eyes of her roommate and sorority sister. She was wearing short shorts, sandals and a t-shirt, but the gym bag indicated she had come there in order to change into her uniform. Kristin Rogers was a fifth-year senior and a softball star for the girl's team. She wasn't quite as devoted to her sport as Melody was, at least in her opinion, but she was at least close. Kristin was one of the best softball catchers in college, and maybe better than most of those who played professionally. Melody didn't follow softball, for the most part, but she knew she was good. Kristin's position may have been unglamorous, but as a pitcher Melody could appreciate her skills.

"Ack! Kristin! You almost gave me a heart attack." Melody stood up, her hands somewhat preserving her modesty, until she used one of them to turn off the shower. Kristin grinned wickedly as she saw Melody's discomfort at being seen naked. Melody had avoided needing to share a locker room all through high school, by virtue of being the lone female member of a boy's team. She wasn't used to being undressed in front of other girls, let alone guys. Melody couldn't help but remember the rumors the other girls in the sorority had spread about Kristin being a lesbian. She had the courtesy not to actually ask her the truth about it.

"Almost gave you a heart attack? You looked like you had passed out in there. I was worried I was going to have to call for a nurse or something." Kristin was a good three inches shorter than Melody at 5'8", and at 23 she wasn't likely to get any taller. In many ways, she had started to become like the older sister Melody never had. What she lacked in height compared to Melody, however, she more than made up for it in girth. Supposedly Kristin had been a skinny thing when she had first arrived in college, but the catcher was now rather plump. Reaching 170 pounds had given her something of a beer belly, but her solid frame didn't hinder her much as a catcher. Her legs were well developed, with thick and muscular thighs that had begun to grow a little bit flabby. Melody thought that her friend might not have known just how much she had grown, considering how tight her shirt was. It looked like it must have been a relic of Kristin's freshman year. It was tight around the chest - the white fabric around Kristin's C cups had printed on it in pink "If you can read this, then you better have bought dinner" - but it was even tighter around the waist.

"I'm sorry." Melody didn't stop for a moment to consider why Kristin's somewhat non-athletic appearance distracted her, but instead reached for a towel and began to dry herself off. She had never been interested in girls - or guys, for that matter. Baseball was her life, school was a distraction that kept her from devoting herself fully to it, and relationships were a distant third in that competition. "Just thinking about stupid stuff, you know? Someone from some softball league wants me to give up on my "impossible dream" and go pro with them. Came and met me when I was hitting balls."

"How Quixotic." Kristin avoided the obvious "balls" joke and set her gym bag down on the bench near the lockers as she slipped off her sandals. Melody noted with amusement that her toenails were painted pink.

"H-what?" Melody looked like she had never heard that word before.

"The Man of La Mancha? How did you pass your 20th century theatre course? Never mind." Kristin shook her head, her shoulder length red hair framing her face in an attractive fashion as she did so. "You were offered a job in a professional league and you turned them down? Are you insane?"

"I told them I'd think about it. You know how I want to play in the Majors-" Melody's hair was currently wet and matted, and the process of toweling it off was taking a while, as it normally did. She had position the towels to keep herself mostly covered, though her somewhat impressive cleavage was rather visible.

"What's to think about? Just cause your dad is going to be in the Hall of Fame doesn't mean you're God's gift to baseball." Kristin laughed somewhat bitterly, looking like she found Melody's viewpoint rather impractical and immature. "I'd kill to play professional softball. Why do you think I'm halfway through getting my Masters of Literature? For all the big money I can rake in as an English professor? No! I'm trying to stretch my eligibility as long as I can to get noticed."

"So you think I should take the offer? This guy Weathers, he-" Melody was getting interrupted quite a lot today. Kristin was just the latest one to do it.

"Bill Weathers? The guy who's supposed to forming the new fast pitch softball league? He met you personally? Ugh! You get all the breaks, Melody. Listen, if you turn down this deal, I will personally kill you out of spite."

Melody laughed, feeling relieved for the first time today, especially after she decided that Kristin was probably joking about the murder part. Probably.


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## FAelitist (Dec 15, 2010)

Hope to see more!


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## The Id (Dec 19, 2010)

I will overlook the diss at the NHL in this installment and say that this is very interesting. I like the idea of a chubby catcher! I wish I had known a couple of those when I was in college!


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## Mac5689 (Dec 19, 2010)

I hope this doesn't sound rude, but i totally forgot about this story.


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## Dutchman (Dec 20, 2010)

This story has the ability to become epic. Can't wait for the next installment!


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## Joanagrace (Jan 25, 2011)

This is great - continue!


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## mrbill619 (Feb 9, 2011)

Bump. I can't wait for the next post. Hope it's soon.


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## mrbill619 (Apr 6, 2011)

Tell me you are still working on this?


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## AngelStryker (Apr 6, 2011)

I hope so, but I'm starting to have doubts now.


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## exjock (Nov 16, 2012)

This was one of my favorite stories! I wish the author would come back to it, it had so much potential!


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## John Smith (Sep 13, 2017)

Interesting.


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