Jellyfish:  Growing in Love 
By Woodsy



3/28/01

Dear Diary,

I'm so excited I can't stand it! My friend Kathleen invited me to go with her
family to their beach house down in Georgia. In 16 years the only times I've
ever been outside this state were a few trips to Chicago to see my
grandparents. That was always fun, but whoopdeedo. I finally get to see a
beach, and what's better, her brother Patrick is gonna be there. I soooo want
to see him half-naked! Even though I've known him since I was 9, he has really
grown up. All those years on the track team and his growth spurt really paid
off for him. He is so hot and he doesn't know it, and this is my chance to
land him before he discovers it.

The only problem is, even though I now see him as a boy worthy of dating, he
might still see me as his little sister's friend. He was always nice to me, so
that's not the problem. Hell, he's nice to me, he's nice to Kathleen even
though she doesn't often deserve it. Whenever we want to go to a party, even
if it's way the hell down in Indianapolis and we needed a ride, he hauled us
down. If we needed booze, he got some from his buddies and gave it to us...for
a nominal fee of course. It was money well spent, though, since Kathleen has a
fake id, but it's so bad she might as well have drawn it with a crayon. Their
parents were away a lot when those two were kids, so Patrick was her keeper
much of the time.

Unfortunately he's also good to this girl Claudia at school. She's a star on
the soccer team and thinks she's such hot shit because she broke a scoring
record. He's got it bad for her and she treats him like dirt. It makes me so
mad to see anybody walk all over him like that. Doesn't he know he could have
me? Maybe some day he'll let me walk all over him. Yeah right! She's real
tall, like 5-10, and has one of those tight six-packs and curved shoulders. I
hate girls like that. The good news is, she's a senior now, so once this
school year's over I'll never have to see her again. The bad news is, so is
Patrick. Why did I have to have these short legs and round bottom? Maybe I'll
show Patrick what short girls can do. Tee hee!

5/12/01

Dear Diary,

It's been a little while since I've written here, but a lot has happened, so
there's a good reason. Kathleen told me that Patrick wanted to take Claudia to
the prom in the worst way. He's been trying to woo her all year, but she just
hasn't bought any of it. After months of planning, prodding, begging and
pleading, he failed to win her. Which was all bad for him I guess, but great
for me. Once I learned he could not take her I had to act fast. If I waited
too long, he would have either asked someone else or given up and stayed home.
Luckily I already had an in through Kathleen, so she was able to sell me to
him and he asked me out.

This is so great I can't believe it. I get to go to a senior prom and I'm only
a sophomore. Omigod omigod omigod! I have to find something to wear soon, and
get my hair fixed...This is gonna be so great, I can't wait!

5/15/01

Dear Diary,

The prom was just amazing! Patrick was a little bit uncomfortable, like he was
only going to take me to fulfill his obligation with me. But he came around.
As we danced he held me close and I just wanted him to hold me in his arms
forever. And then after the dance as he took me home, one thing led to another
and we...Well, I should say, I gave him some gratification with my lips. A
whole rush of feelings came over me at once. It was like he was slowly
emerging from being my best friend's shy and goofy (but so fucking hot!) older
brother to my fantasy man. I almost couldn't fit him in my mouth, and my jaw
is so sore I can barely talk.

It's a good thing I can write about this, because I just can't tell Kathleen
or she'll spew. I almost did, too, when he finally came. It took a little
coaxing to get him to open up to me and a little tenderness on my part to get
him to open up, literally. Hehe. But I think he sees me as a woman now, not
just some little girl, and I certainly don't see him as just some boy. Lucky
for him, I'm rather skilled at oral sex. People may not know it to look at me,
but I'd say I can get a guy off better than almost anybody. They see me and
they must think I'm just some chubby 5'3 stump, but what some people may not
know is, we girls who are chubby really, really, really enjoy putting things
in our mouths, and we want to suck alllll the flavor out. I'm so bad.

The only damper on the evening was Claudia. I don't know why that bitch had to
be there, she thinks she's too good for everybody else anyway. When Patrick
introduced us, she gave me this condescending look and turned her nose up at
him. He kept checking her out the whole night. She pissed me off in her
sleeveless dress, showing off her sculpted arms and her firm pecs. Oooh, if I
could have gotten her outside alone I'd...probably get my ass kicked. But if I
were just her size...I'd show her.

6/23/01

Dear Diary,

Well, school's been out for a while now and I'm counting the days till
Georgia. Right now we're 10 days away. That sounds stupid. I mean, who looks
forward to Georgia? I can't even dream right, HAH! But I don't care. I get to
skip town for 2 weeks with my best friend and I have my man all to myself. My
man, listen to me. I sound like his wife. Speaking of Patrick, we haven't
really gone out since the prom, but we have had a few rendezvous's on the
side. This is so naughty, I love it!

I feel like some Mata Hari or some James Bond chick sneaking off to meet for a
roll in the hay. It's like we're having an affair, except not. And soon we'll
be escaping to a far away land. Well, far away from Indiana. Kathleen has been
weird to me lately. I'm afraid to tell her about me and her brother, it could
be creepy. I think she knows what's going on, but we can't talk about it, not
now anyway.

7/8/01

Dear Diary,

Well, here we are at the beach and it's about everything I hoped it would be.
Hot sand under my feet, salt water in my face, and Patrick. Last night we
snuck off in the middle of the night for a walk on the beach, just the two of
us. It was wonderful, but it's torture being around him during the day.
Sneaking around together was great back home, but when you share a house with
a whole family, eat meals together and everything, it gets old that you have
to sneak around. Conversations at dinner time are empty and meaningless. It's
so stupid.

4th of July was nice, though. The boys all shot off some fireworks and made
lots of noise. They got a bigger kick out of it than Kathleen or I did. What's
cool about the Becks, though, is, their parents don't mind letting us drink,
at least as long as they're around to supervise. Which is fine. We all had a
pretty good time together. I just wish I had a little more Patrick and a
little less of his family sometimes. Sorry Kathleen.

7/13/01

Dear Diary,

Well, this vacation has taken a turn for the worst. The other night I got
stung by a jellyfish on my forearm. I'd heard how much this hurts, but GOD
DAMN! My arm feels like it has about a thousand bee stings in it and in the
last few days it has swollen up like a telephone pole. Also, I'd heard
jellyfish tentacles will sting, but I didn't know they'd wrap around you. At
least this one did. It wouldn't let go, so it just kept stinging and sticking.
It was agony. The doctor has me on cortizone for the burn, which helps for
now. My forearm is so big and heavy right now it feels like I'm carrying a
cement cast on it. On the plus side Patrick has been a darling since the
sting. He brings me all of my meals.

He feels a little bit guilty about me getting stung. It's not his fault, but
if it'll milk some attention, I'll do it. He was with me when I got stung and
tried to splash the fish away from me when he saw me swimming near it. As you
can see, it didn't work. So after we stepped out of the water I was in such
bad pain that I begged him to pee on my arm. He looked at me like I asked him
to hand me his spleen, but I figured, it worked on "Friends". It's funny now
that I'm writing about it, but he was so timid about doing it. I kept assuring
him it's not like I hadn't seen his dick before. Still, he didn't want some
passerby to see him urinating on somebody on the beach. I finally convinced
him to take a leak in a bottle and pour some of that on me. It didn't help
much, but I was glad to have somebody there who cares enough to pee on me.
Yuck! Maybe that will be a story for our grandchildren someday. Hmmm, we could
have grandchildren someday.

It sucks that I've missed 2 days so far because of this stupid arm and I'll
miss the rest of this vacation. This trip was supposed to be a last hurrah for
the Becks because he'll be going off to college in a month or so. He might not
take any trips with them after this. I hate having to bring them down because
of this.

Since I don't have the nerve to go back into the water, I'm stuck in the house
by myself for much of the time. I could write more in this book I suppose, but
that gets just as boring as watching tv. I did wander into Patrick's room and
just happened to stumble into his luggage. Okay, maybe it was more like
rifling, but you get the idea. I found some comic books in his bag by some
publisher called LH Art. Weird stuff in there. Sometimes you want to know what
your lover is into, and sometimes your sorry you asked. This discovery falls
into the latter. Huge, tall, women with lots of hair, more muscles than the
biggest NFL lineman, and breasts that hydraulics and cantilevers couldn't
hold. What does he see in it? Still, it did explain why he was so hung up on
Claudia, who was almost as strong as him. I guess until women like the ones in
his comic books come to life, he'll have to settle for me.

8/25/01

Dear Diary,

This summer sucked. Patrick is gone and my arm is still swollen up like a
balloon. It doesn't hurt anymore, but I'm all uneven now. I look deformed. One
arm looks like it belongs to Popeye, and the other belongs on, well, Olive
Oyl. Actually, it's a lot like Popeye, because the size is down a little bit,
but amazingly I've got a stronger grip with that arm now. I noticed the other
day when I had to clean out the attic that I had no trouble holding onto a
trunk with my left hand. The rest of my body still wasn't strong enough to
hoist it up, but as I lowered it down the ladder to the second floor, I held
on whereas I normally would have lost my grip on it.

It just sucks that I have to go back to school like this. Well, that's not all
that sucks. I hardly saw any of Patrick after the beach trip. He had to work
for a little while, then go off to school 2 states away. For the last weeks
that he was here I kept my arm in a bandage. He seemed concerned, but I tried
to steer the conversation in any other direction. I'm gonna miss him terribly
until Thanksgiving. Oscar Wilde said the second greatest tragedy is not
getting what you want. The greatest is getting it. Now that he's mine to lose,
I just feel empty without him.

9/10/01

Dear Diary,

I saw a doctor about my arm today. We took a measurement and my left forearm
is 17 inches in circumference, whereas my untouched arm is 11 inches at the
same point. The arm is healed, but the growth is like an odd form of scar
tissue. Somehow the poison from the man o'war wounded me and my muscle and
skin tissues healed by reconstructing themselves. Hence my muscles and tendons
grew back larger and stronger than before. The venom is still in my arm, but
the tissue around it has grown immune to it. Something peculiar about my body
chemistry reacts to jellyfish poison that makes it act as a growth hormone.

What a relief to know that it can't harm me now at least. I still wish I
weren't so uneven though. If only I could shrink my left side back to
normal...Or maybe I should just increase the size of my right side. I
wonder....It's probably too late to do anything about the left arm. But maybe
I can fix the right arm. And it would be a shame to have big arms without the
legs and torso to support them. I'd look like a gorilla. I'll bet Patrick
would love this. Hahahahahahaha!

9/12/01

Dear Diary,

I've suddenly taken a greater interest in chemistry and biology this year what
with the recent turn of events. I don't take chemistry this year, but I do
take bio, which is good. I quit the model UN, which is a shame, because I
won't see much of Kathleen anymore, but my experiment is going to take up all
the time that schoolwork doesn't already take. Most of what I do will require
me to keep careful and consistent measurements, much of which I will keep a
copy in this journal. Tomorrow, Friday the 13th, will be the first day of the
rest of my life. So tonight I will take all of my before measurements, and
take some last pictures of myself.

Height: 5-5

Weight: 147 pounds (eek)

Calves: L-13" R-13.5"

Thighs: L-20" R-20"

Hips: 37"

Waist: 31" (eek again)

Chest: 36C

Biceps: L-12 R-11.5

Forearms: L-17 R-11

Neck: 14"

Well, Nicki, here goes nothing.

9/13/01

Dear Diary,

It wasn't easy, but I got my hands on some sanitary hypodermic needles and
syringes. I hope my parents never find this stuff or they might think I'm
shooting up. Well, I guess I am, but it's with my own juice. Since the poison
is stuck in reservoirs in my left arm, I had no choice but to extract it with
needles and inject it into various parts of my body. Today I did my right
forearm. It stung going in, but not nearly as badly as the initial jellyfish
tentacle. You like to feel a tingle for this sort of thing, but this burned
like a mother fucker. All in the name of science, though. My arm is red just
like my left one was when it got stung. It hasn't grown any bigger, but the
skin is sore around it, like it's inflating.

9/21/01

Dear Diary,

My right forearm has caught up with the left in size and shape. I look like
Popeye now with these 2 pythons shaped like baseball bat barrels. They are
each now 18 inches around. It's a bit awkward now that I have 2 of these. At
least when it was one, I could wrap it up in a bandage and it just looked like
some accident. But that's the price of evening it out. I hope it cools down
here soon. Wearing these long sleeves to cover them up might look suspicious
if I'm sweating like a sow. Thinking about long term, I'm not worried about
it, though.

Next target will be the buttocks. It could be embarrassing at first, but if I
get a big butt it won't be anything new. It's already big, but it's padded
with fat. At least the difference will be subtle.

9/22/01

Dear Diary,

I'm glad it's not a school day because it would hurt like hell to sit down. I
feel like I just sat on a hot radiator and burned off the skin. God I hope
this is worth it. If it is I'll have a butt that won't quit, and if it
doesn't, well, I'll look silly. It gets harder each time to keep up the
courage to keep sticking the needle in. That's hard enough to do in the first
place, but knowing the kind of pain I'll be in each time makes it tough to
keep the nerve. Then I think about Patrick and about his not so secret comics.
And about Claudia's pompous swagger and how much I would like to knock her
block off if I ever saw her again. Then it all feels worth it.

9/28/01

Dear Diary,

My butt isn't much bigger than it was before, but the shape...WOW! It's like 2
bowling balls pressed together. Not only could you bounce a quarter off this
one but dent it too. The cheeks are hard as a rock. Before I had a cottage
cheesy jiggly butt, but now the muscle tissue has grown in place of the fat.
It's like pouring concrete into a water balloon and letting it dry. If I had
known this would work I would have stayed in the water and let the jellyfish
sting me everywhere.

I've been so hungry and so tired lately. I'll fall asleep at 7 and not wake up
until 7 the next morning, and I eat so much lately that I have to hide some of
it from my parents because it's embarrassing. The cell regeneration must take
a lot of food energy, I can barely keep up.

Tonight I will continue on the lower body with the thighs. I'd really like to
inject the biceps, not only so that it would even out my arms, but because I
barely have the strength to lift these forearms when they're like this. But a
building needs a foundation, and I need my lower body to be strong enough to
support the extra size. I'm afraid to rush anything, so I'm spacing everything
out by a week. Hopefully by the next time I write I will have big, strong legs
to stand on.

9/29/01

Dear Diary,

Sure enough, my legs are sore and burning. I have to set an icepack between
them just to bear the pain. This is the worst sting since the tentacle first
wrapped around my arm. But pain means progress, so I hate it, but only so
much. Luckily the shots only hurt for the first day, but the rush of looking
and feeling my new firmness lasts me through the night.

I haven't talked to Patrick much since he left. Every 2 weeks or so I'll call
him or he'll call me. I guess I hope he calls back and that he keeps thinking
about me, but with the new body I'm working on, I don't think he'll have much
of a choice. We really haven't been like a boyfriend and girlfriend anyway,
since we snuck around anyway. It was more like a series of flings, which is
fine. Less baggage that way. He tends to fall in love and fall hard, so I
don't think he'll sleep around much anyway.

Who am I kidding? I think about him a lot if I'm not thinking about my
experiment. How ironic that he had a hand in creating this new body, which
happens to be the type of his fantasy, and he doesn't even know what I'm doing
or what I now look like. Ah well, I'll wait for the right time to unveil it.
It's only fair that he should get dibs on it.

10/19/01

Dear Diary,

I've finally done it!! I've finished with my calves and biceps and I have the
body of a goddess. Christina Envall's got nothing on me. It's been so much fun
to take off the bandages like unwrapping a facelift. It's like I'm looking at
me, but not. I flex in the mirror for hours, then, exhausted and sore, I'll
tie on the feedbag and go right to sleep. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, growth
needs calories and sleep, and I've done lots of growing. My current
measurements are:

Height: 5'9 (I grew a few inches, which is odd since I'd been the same height
for like 2 years)

Weight: 230 lb (I can't believe it, either)

Biceps: 19 inches (Yes!)

Forearms: 18 inches

Thigh: 25 inches (yikes!)

Calf: 19 inches

Hips: 40 in

Waist: 31 in (I knew there was a body part I forgot about)

Chest: 42 DD

I'm not very cut, and I look like I'm still carrying some baby fat because I
haven't worked out yet. I figured I'd wait till I put my body into even
proportions before I tested the strength limits or else I might really injure
myself. Seeing as I want to keep this body a secret as best I can, that would
be a bad thing. But in 2 weeks when some of the swelling and soreness go down
I'm hitting the iron. Look out world! Nicki's coming!

11/16/01

Dear Diary,

It's been a while since I've written, but I've been very busy with the
workouts. I went ahead and injected my abdomen with the serum, which made me
so sick I thought I was gonna die. The results are worth it, though. My
stomach looks like a cobblestone road.

We didn't have any weights here at home so I joined the Y downtown. It's
cheaper than a gym and it's not too crowded in the morning when I go. I've
only been working out there for 3 weeks and I've almost outgrown it. I was
afraid these muscles would just be for show, but they work.

It took a little while to get my strength and technique up after my muscles
have been largely unused for so long, but now that I'm limbered up, I can
bench press 420 pounds. A guy at the gym says that's some kind of record. He
asked how much I weigh, but I was too shy to tell him. I work out in the
loosest sweats I can find so as not to arouse so much suspicion. It's getting
harder and harder to do that, though, when I'm growing like this. Oddly
enough, you stick out in the crowd when you're 5'11 and 245 pounds (yeah, I
grew another 2 inches). I wonder just how big I'm going to get.

My doctor couldn't believe his eyes when he saw me. He has some pictures of me
as a little girl and even some from just a year ago and he thought I was
putting him on at first. His hands were all sweaty at the checkup. Gross, but
flattering. He asked if I was using steroids and took a while to convince
otherwise. He thinks the venom from the jellyfish might have triggered a
growth spurt that would have happened anything, but considered the possibility
that I'll be taller than I would have been naturally. I hope I don't get too
big. I don't want to be a freak or anything. Well, no more than I am already.

Thanksgiving is coming up and I realized how much I have to be thankful for.
This body is the silver lining in the dark cloud that was that stinging agony
this past summer. That already seems like a lifetime ago. I can still feel the
little old Nicki inside me somewhere, but she's moved into a bigger, stronger,
more beautiful body than she ever thought possible. I'm not so thankful about
going away to Oregon for Thanksgiving. I mean, it's nice to go someplace new,
but I was hoping to show myself to Patrick. I haven't mentioned to him what
I'm up to and I rarely talk to Kathleen anymore, so she wouldn't be able to
tell him anything. She must think I've just gotten fatter this whole time,
since I only wear big, sloppy clothes to school. If she thinks I've let myself
go, all the better. Wait till she and everybody else sees the real me!

On the plus side, maybe I'm not ready to show Patrick this body yet anyway.
But won't he be surprised to see me when I'm ready. I wonder if he'll be
ready.

12/31/01

Dear Diary,

What a year! With all that's happened, I would swear 5 years had passed since
July. I reeled in Patrick, saw more states than I'd ever been to in my life,
and transformed into a hulking amazon. These last few months have been like a
dream and I don't want to wake up. Still, it has all been a bit lonely. I have
the body that I never knew I wanted because I never thought it possible to
have, but now that I have it I don't know how I lived without it. But with all
the sneaking around to keep this physique a secret, it's like knowing the
meaning of life and not being able to tell anyone about it.

The worst part is, I have to keep it a secret from Patrick. As if it wasn't
bad enough I missed him on

Thanksgiving, I played hard to get this Christmas, all because I have a big
surprise for him for his birthday present. I can barely stand it.

Mom and Dad don't really understand what I'm up to these days and think I'm
becoming a recluse. They're a little bit afraid of me when they see me in
short sleeves. It's nice to be respected, but I don't want people treating me
like a monster. I'm just the same dreamy, slightly nerdy little girl I always
was, just in a kick-ass bod. They are supportive enough to buy me some weights
for Christmas. Dad even set up some contraptions in the basement. Good thing,
too, because I'll need to train hard to cut myself up enough for a
bodybuilding show this spring. That's right, I'm going to enter a state
contest in March. I'm so excited! It's not a pro qualifier, so when I win it I
can still enter some more amateur shows and win some money before I go after
the high stakes.

3/2/02

Dear Diary,

It's been an agonizing 2 months since my last entry. But what a year this is
going to be. In just 2 weeks I'll be posing in front of total strangers for
the first time in my life. It's gonna be like a costume party, since I'll have
my hair and nails all dolled up, my body tanned and oiled, and flexing in a
thong bikini. I've been training like crazy at home, and I haven't gotten much
stronger, but I have cut myself up considerably. I can finally see some
definition in my arms, thighs and abdomen. Wow, I have abs! And pecs! Goddamn!
I get a big kick out of my own before and after pictures. I'm a far cry from
that chubby little girl with the round belly and soft bottom. Still, I
remember what it was like to look like that and so I don't bully people around
unlike a certain soccer player who used to go to our school. That reminds me,
I'm a lot bigger than her now. I'll bet she'd never recognize me if she saw me
today, but I'd love to see the look on her face now.

I'm taking my measurements today and I'll put them in here since this will be
the last time writing until the show in all likelihood. I've been eating like
a horse and sleeping my life away. I must look so boring to other people. I
eat, sleep, train in private and go to school. I'm such a geek. I think I'll
tell Patrick that. I won't tell him my measurements, though. A girl's gotta
have her secrets.

Height: 6'2 (I just keep growing lately)

Weight: 285 lb (I just wish I didn't have to tell this to anyone in public)

Hips: 51

Waist: 30

Chest 54 E

Calf: 21

Thigh: 30

Forearm: 19

Bicep: 21

3/18/02

This is so great! I won my first contest. The heavyweight division was easy,
since it only had 3 entrants, and as for the overall, well, I don't think the
judges were ready for me. A lot of people, including the audience members,
insisted I must be using gear, but I take that as a compliment. They might
have noticed that my jawbone and forehead are shaped perfectly normally, I
don't have any body hair, and my voice is at about the same pitch as it always
was. Well, it's a little bit deeper now that it has a longer way to travel,
but still sounds perfectly feminine. It was great to win, though. The prize
money will come in handy for the recent expenses like clothing, which I keep
growing out of. The only drawback is, I'm no longer a secret. The bodybuilding
rags will have articles on me until I retire. Oh well, at least this is still
a pretty cultish sport.

The best part of the day, though, wasn't the trophy, but the surprise. I
played a little trick on Patrick. As his birthday present, I told him I got 2
front row tickets to the Keystone Classic women's bodybuilding show and would
like to take him. It's right near his college, so I figured he could get there
easily enough, and since I had to drive 300 miles to it, I'd just meet him at
the show. When he got to the entrance, I told him to go on in and I'd meet him
inside. I didn't want him to miss anything. I called him from my cell
backstage and told him that I was running late, so I'd pick my ticket up at
willcall. Luckily heavyweights go last, just in case it took time to convince
him to go inside. He was so cute. When I called him and he was already in his
seat, he saw my name on the program and said how funny it was that someone had
the same name as me. I had to contain my excitement.

I was scheduled to pose third in my weight class, so as the first contestant
went through her routine, I called him one last time and told him I was
outside on my way in and would see him in a minute. Peaking from the curtain I
saw him craning his neck to the back, waiting for me to walk to the front row.
I stalled him on the phone until the last second, and once my name was called
out, I told him Here I come. I was so nervous I thought I would crack. I was
posing in a swimsuit that I never would have had the courage to wear just a
year ago, posing for the first time in front of a crowd, and my honey was in
the audience seeing the new me. I almost tripped on the walk out there, but I
kept a smile on my face and proceeded with my routine, slowly. I didn't want
Patrick to miss a second of it. The bright lights and the rush of the moment
made it difficult to concentrate, but I found Patrick in the crowd, jaw on the
floor and eyes big as cueballs after putting 2 and 2 together. I slinked
through the routine as seductively as my giant frame would allow. I flexed and
unflexed my biceps, my lats, my quads, my abs, and capped it off by pointing
his way, blowing him a kiss, and winking.

After the show, Patrick was petrified, in more ways than one wink. I think he
was intimidated by my new massiveness, which is understandable. But I loosened
him up with a little dirty talk and got him to give me a ride home. I find now
that I have a harder time fitting into some cars anymore, but it's all a small
price to pay I suppose. He nervously drove back to his dorm room and we talked
and caught up for a while. Since I avoided him for so long he thought I wanted
nothing to do with him. I guess the hard to get play was a little much, but he
understood when I told him why I did it.

I told him about the jellyfish and my new muscles. He didn't believe me at
first, but I finally convinced him when I showed him the scar on my left arm
where I got the first sting. I then showed him the similar, though smaller,
welts where the needle went in at other places. I couldn't explain my growth
spurt to him, but it didn't put him off. He was hesitant to touch me the whole
time, like he was trying to pet a hungry tiger. But when I told him I was
hungry for him, he finally complied. He admitted that he wanted to feel my
muscles. So he did, all of them. Even a few inside me. We did it for the first
time, well, it was my first time and ours.

I told him that I built this body mostly for him anyway, so he was welcome to
touch me anywhere he wanted. With these 7 months of working out I built up so
much frustration that I just had to unleash on him, which might have been too
much for him. I say he felt me up except I was clearly the aggressor in this
situation. Funny how when you have 2 inches and 80 lbs on your mate you get to
call the shots. We stayed up the whole night and after fucking his brains out
we talked and he rubbed my back and feet. It was a win-win situation, as it
gave him an excuse to squeeze my flesh and it untensed me after a long,
nerve-racking day. We talked about the wonders of looking like I do, but how
lonely it could be, and I told him I'm afraid no man might want me if I grow
too big. After all, I don't mind a guy taller than me. In fact I prefer it,
but that pool is getting smaller with every inch I grow. But I don't like the
bulky muscle-bound look on men. Ironic that I like it on me, but not on men,
yet people think I look masculine. I never wanted that day nor that night to
end. I could die tomorrow knowing I lived that day once.

Even after all this I never told Patrick how I knew he liked massive muscle
goddesses, but he probably has some suspicions now. He told me that he had
never actually seen a female bodybuilder in person, so what a treat it must
have been to see me when 1) He's known me most of my life and was just
beginning to see me as more than her little sister's friend, 2) He had no idea
what I'd been up to and when he finds out I'd been avoiding him just to drop
the ultimate surprise on him and 3) He's never seen a female bodybuilder
before and when the first one he sees just happens to look like Tami Wooden's
big sister and has the hots for him.

7/16/03

Dear Diary,

You're here for me like an old friend, and in this case an old friend I have
not visited in well over a year. That last year of high school seemed like it
would go on forever. It's wrong to wish away your youth, but I really couldn't
wait to finish. College might not be too bad, but high school just seems like
a haven for the immature. It's not easy being the biggest girl in school, even
if you are the strongest, and in my own humble opinion, have the best body.
But it doesn't stop the whispers behind your back.

As I feared, I didn't finish growing as of that contest. By Christmas of my
senior year, I reached 6 foot 6 and after pumping so much iron, I've eaten my
way up to 360 pounds. I think I've stopped growing...in height at least.
That's not something I like to admit to people, but I love being strong and
powerful. I like knowing that I have reached a musculature that no woman has
ever reached, and probably never will. I've kept so many secrets that I forget
what is common knowledge about me and what's not. Sometimes I want to just
tell people that I owe this body to a jellyfish and then other times I
remember how special this gift was. I'd hate to inspire copycats who might
sting themselves and get sick or even die. Still it would be nice to know what
exactly I'd look like without the toxins in my system, and whether this will
have a long-term effect on me. I know I have enjoyed the short term effects so
far.

Soon I will be leaving for college, which might be a nice new adventure. At
first I thought I'd attend school in Pennsylvania with Patrick, and I still
think about that. But, instead I'll be just south of him at a smaller school.
At my size it might be pointless to try and hide, but that's exactly what I'll
try to do, as best I can anyway. I'll only be 50 miles from him, so I will be
able to see him when I want, but if I'm going this far from home, I might as
well enjoy the independence, even if I only do it for a few years.

I might not be able to afford school if not for my physique. When I entered
the Keystone I was afraid I'd draw too much attention to myself. Well, I did,
but not all of it is bad. I won some contests, including an NPC Jr. National
and a few teenage divisions. Not too many teenage girls are comfortable enough
with their bodies yet to take up bodybuilding contests, so beating them is
like letting Curt Schilling pitch to little leaguers. But it nets me some cash
and keeps my name hot. Women's bodybuilding publications have all either
interviewed me or want to. Those are nice, since there's not much I can say to
hurt my reputation. I haven't been asked to do much modeling unfortunately. I
guess the world isn't ready for a girl like me yet, but I have gotten some
offers to do posing videos and was even asked to do personal sessions. I'm a
little worried about private appearances with schmoes, but if somebody wants
to videotape me clothed, so be it. Patrick isn't happy about all that, but as
long as I assure him that there is no touching involved, which there hasn't
been.

My favorite is guest posing. I don't get to do it often, but it's nice because
I get to do things that I can't do in contests. My best was a routine where I
was clad from head to toe in Terminator black leather biker clothing. When I
keep my face and body covered, people see my size and think this must be a
man. But then I peel off the leather, starting with the sleeves of the jacket,
then the boots, then the pants, and finally down to my suit and they see a
humongous beautiful woman underneath.

The economics of it all aren't fair when I think about it. I'm uniquely
talented and endowed, but I'll never make the big bucks that male basketball
and baseball players get out of high school. I didn't necessarily work hard to
get this body, and in fact, I don't have to spend nearly as much money on
upkeep as most pro bodybuilders, but still, it seems unfair. Maybe that's the
wrong way to think about it. Maybe the way to approach it is to be glad that I
now live in an age where there is women's olympic weightlifting, and
strongwoman contests, and Ms. Olympia contests to win. And I still have time
to win them.