From the many accessories, you reach for an interesting object: a rusty, ancient looking sword.
Strange enough, the sword can't be retrieved at all, not even with all your might, and with every attempt, all you manage to do is shake the bin a bit.
Picking the bin up doesn't work either, it feels extremely heavy, and it simply won't move from it's place, barely even twitching.
The task is getting to your head, somehow you can't take your eyes away from the sword, you have the URGE to take it, as if it were a challenge for your pride itself.
Stepping on the bin and keeping it down in place, you grab the handle of the sword once again and pull with all your strength.
Even if it doesn't move, you keep trying to pull it out, pressing the bin down as much as you can while forcing your arms to pull the sword up.
Your arms soon begin to feel sore, the fatigue catching up to you. Your fingers hurt a lot from the pressure, and after a few seconds, you feel like your arms have caught fire, the pain growing with every second.
But you don't let go.
You NEED to take this sword. So you tighten your grip despite the pain in your hands, and pull with what little strength you have left, feeling a horrible ripping sensation in your muscles.
You clench your teeth in pain as your muscles go through the worst experience ever, unable to contain all the force you're using for the task.
Unknowingly to you, your muscles begin to rip apart, but instead of a painful sensation, you feel a throbbing, bulging feeling as new, sturdy and immensely stronger muscles take their place.
Your biceps and forearms expand and grow thick and dense, harder than rocks. Your shoulders widen, becoming blocky, strong and square.
Your torso soon follows as your pecs bulge and extend outwards, and your abs gain definition and strength you've never felt before. Oddly enough, your nipples also become a creamy, pale pink color and grow bigger and thicker, just before your pecs extend even more, this time forming soft, supple breasts, which soon begin to grow along your widening torso, becoming slightly bigger than your own head.
While your foot presses against the bin, it begins to grow and widen, becoming stubby and callous, your legs also thicken, becoming extremely muscular and bulky, and lengthening a whole lot, giving you a few more inches of height.
Following a similar change as your feet, your hands also grow thick and wide, the skin becoming pale, and also extremely thick, preventing any damage to happen while you hold the hilt of the sword with immense strength.
Forcing the sword upwards, you feel a stretching feeling as your spine and your whole body lengthens and scales into a new massive size, your breasts and new, toned, giant muscular asscheeks rippling with the growth.
Once you approach the 8ft mark, you close your eyes forcefully as they itch, slowly becoming a deep green color. You clench your teeth as your facial structure changes, your nose becomes a petite button nose, your lips thicken and redden, your cheekbones rise, and slightly protrude along with your chin, giving you a strong, mature look, with a face halfway beautiful and handsome.
Your skin itches as it becomes extremely pale, acquiring a color akin to porcelain, as freckles appear all over your body, on your face, breasts and shoulders. You shake your head as your hair explodes into a huge, curly red mane that reaches down your shoulders.
You clench your teeth even more with your new, stronger jaws as veins all over your body bulge and twitch with the amount of force you're using. While your muscles thicken into body builder proportions, a pair of sandals materialize on your feet, a rough tartan dress forms itself on your body, you gain a golden belt and bracelets, and your hair is styled by a tiara that suddenly appears on your head.
The tiara glows with powerful magic as you gain a little bit of knowledge. Mastery of swords, combat and warfare, the politics of clans, and the burden of the lifestyle of a tribal queen soon become the main topics of your mind.
Shaking your head you look around and find yourself in a completely different location than the one you were before. You're in the middle of a forest clearing, the weather is cloudy, and the cold winds make the temperature approach zero degrees Celsius, but your thick skin and a whole life spent in the upper stretches of the British isles make you accustomed to the harsh climate of your lands.
Looking down your massive body, you see your huge, wide, sturdy foot standing on top of a rock, and embedded in it, you see the sword you've been trying to retrieve this whole time. With the composure of a seasoned warrior, you wrap your thick hands around the hilt of the sword, and with little to no effort you pull it out of the rock as it cracks into many pieces. "YES!" you scream in excitement. This feat marks the end of your transformation, as you grow a pair of inches more, your muscles bulge, and your genitalia reforms with a huge messy orgasm into a thick, chubby, hairy vagina that you slap and massage through your dress as a way to congratulate yourself. The sword now shines with it's perfectly crafted iron and has lost all it's rust. It feels powerful and legendary.
You grin to yourself with the sword on your hands. The sword is heavy and unwieldy, it's size almost the size of a full grown man, but for you, it feels like just any sword. It fills you with pride
You've been distracted, hypnotized by the sword this whole time, but you soon snap back to reality as you hear quick steps and then a loud voice behind you.
"QUEEN Y/N, QUEEN Y/N!"
Confused, you turn around and see a small, slightly muscular woman.
Before you can ask who she is, or how she knows your name, or why she's addressing you as "queen", she interrupts you once again.
"They're coming! The Romans are coming!" She speaks in an ancient, undiscovered language that you can understand perfectly for some reason.
You stare confused, before lowering your view and looking at a shield laying against a tree trunk. In it's shiny metal shape, you can see your reflection.
A huge, redhead amazonian woman, with huge, bulky muscles, a bright red mane, the royal garments of an authentic Celtic queen, and a massive broadsword, impossible to hold by any normal human, being carried by you with a single hand. Your face is strong, beautiful and mature, you'd guess you're in your thirties, but your whole body glistens and shines with an almost unnatural healthiness and youth. Your body, specially your face and arms, have blue paint, forming circles, figures and runes you can barely read in the reflection.
Looking down at your wide hands and your new bulky body you realize it's true. You're a massive Celtic woman, a queen.
"This body... this sword... the Romans...!? What have I gotten myself into...!?" you stutter in your native English. The woman in front of you didn't quite understand.