Entry for January 01, 2009

Uh... yeah... I probably shouldn't have gone out on New Years...

Sorry I haven't blogged in the last couple of days, but things have been really quiet. The only thing of note was that it's been so absurdly hot the last couple of days so being staying indoors, that I've been hitting various Lifeline's in search of cheap second-hand clothing that I don't mind getting destoryed to bulk out my wardrobe. Also somebody has been asking about me... in relation to Doc...

I got a call out of the blue yesterday as I was getting ready for New Years from work. Seems some American guy was asking around about Doc, and one of my co-workers pointed out my "relationship" with Doc (thanks Jennifer, thanks very much). My worry they were going to need me back early turned to concerned when she mentioned that he seemed almost as interested in the MiB's that went over Doc's lab. Does he know? Does he suspect?

So I opted to go out anyway, to at least try and dodge him he comes calling until I can get my story straight with what I told the MiBs. Last time I couldn't really tell them anything because apart from a sensation like I was dying, the formula had no apparent effect on me, now... Anyway, I walked up the station and caught the train to Roma Street and switched to head to Southbank and meet up with friends by about 7pm, just walk around drinking and just getting into the vibe of new years. Its still hot and not helped by so many people.

By the 9:30 family friendly fireworks show I'm more than a little buzzed, and I lost my friends. But I linked up with this guy, nicely built, reasonable handsome, a little sleezy. Okay, based on his willingness to keep buying me drinks and the looks he gave me, very sleezy, but I didn't mind. It was nice to be hit on, to have drinks bought for me, to feel like I'm younger and prettier, to forget how strange my life has become. When he wrapped his arms around me when midnight hit, I felt... normal.

But with the fireworks over he led me aside into a quiet little nook, the way his hand stroked my shoulders, the way we both kissed, it was clear what he was after. If I wasn't so drunk I probably would have had my defense up, probably would have said no, but as he's got me up against the wall, his hand going up my skirt, all I could think about is that its being so long, so very long since I've been with anybody. That I want this, that I want him inside me. Then as he squeezes my breasts he remarks that he loves women with large tits.

I'm too far gone to stop, but a little part of me jolts in response to that. I don't have large breasts. I quite clearly don't have large breasts. If I had large breasts, I wouldn't have gone and drunk a strange formula in the hopes of getting them. That means I must be changing.

I couldn't tell him even if I wanted to, as his fingers worm their way under the elastic of my panties my body operates on two very different auto-pilots. My heart beat filled my ears, massive sledgehammer blows that send burning blood surging through my body, a moan escaping my lips between kisses as I felt it begin to sweep through my body, starting to pool in my breasts and sex.

My panites start to get awful crowded as my sex swells and opens, like its attempting to grab his fingers and make a go for his hand. I don't know how by my nipples seemed to have gotten even harder, stabbing through my dress like iron, being pressed harder into the fabric as my breast grew larger and larger.

My high-heels snaped under the strain of my increasing weight, but by the time my heels touched the ground I was already taller than I was before. The coat was getting tight at the shoulder, the sleeve seam bursting as I rolled my shoulders, biceps exploding into new sizes causing the fabric to shred, my nails gouging deep rents in the concrete wall sleezy-o was pressing me against.

He seemed to be lost in his lust as much as I was, showing no sign of noticing as the straps of my dress snap under the force of breasts growing beyond sane cup sizes, forcing fabric, nipple ad breast flesh into his face, and causing the massive mane of black green hair cascading down my back to bounce in response. I bit my now lush, plump green lips as my rear, hips and thighs swell, panties snapping and leaving only his hand and air touching my sex as something begins to build.

I arch my back, head slam and smashing the concrete wall without even twinge of discomfort, a husky cry emerging from my lips as the best climax of my life arced through like a million volts. As my breathing raced, I realized I wasn't coming down, that this sense of power was still ebbing and building, that this is what she felt.

I don't know what shocked me more, the fact I changed and stayed me, or the sensations, feelings and urges of her body.

My dress reached to above my knees now barely covered my sex unless I stand upright, two thirds of my massive breasts were over the top of my neckline, the nipples still covered but aerola clearly visible. My coat ripped within an inch of destruction as I flexed my densely muscled arms.

I felt so much energy humming through my veins that I wanted to run for miles, to leap to the moon, that my body was about to leap out of my emerald skin and that only force of will was keeping me here. My muscled throbed and ached to be used, only the touch of his hands on my flesh keep my grounded as impossible sexual need assault, that caused even my muscular legs to shiver and buckle.

It was getting so hard to think as primitive urges crowded my mind, the siren call of my body's new form. I could use so many words to describe what I felt, what I had become, but none could carry the full weight of what I felt. It felt.... wonderful, even that is gross understatement.

Then I'm hit with a sensation like somebody has grabbed me by the shoulders and is pulling me back, except I seem to be falling backwards from my field of vision, falling away from the sleezy-o, falling away from the utter perfect form as she pushes forward. Everything is fading, as I feel her grin and say "My turn", which I know is directed at me, even though he could think it was directed at him when she grabs and effortlessly tears the crotch of his slacks open.

Then things got fuzzy and incomplete like when I normally changed, I can recall only images, bits and pieces of riding sleezy-o until he's screaming, of drinking and drinking and drink, of kissing a woman trying to kneed her tits like there was no tomorrow, basically acting like a drunk slut.

Right up to the point where a cop is hassling her, demanding she come with him. Then she was like a raging barbarian, laughing in his face before backhanding him into a tree. People were screaming at her, making her angry, which only resulted in egging her into doing worse and worse things. Security guards raced up in a golf cart and started calling more guard and police. She shoved them out before grabbing the cart with one hand and tossing it into Streets Beach, scattering the poor swimmers in the lagoon.

She started roaring like wild animal as people start screaming and stampeding to get away, more police arriving and starting firing tasers and pepper spray at her, shocked and scared as she shruged them all off, shouldering people aside. Then she leapt onto the top of the Wheel of Brisbane, bellowing and beating her chest like she was was King Kong between almost school girl giggles.

The police start to shoot at her, but even direct hits didn't seem to phase her, just causing her to yell insults that would make a sailor blush. She finally leapt away when a police chopper began to approach, leaping and landing as she covers suburbs in mere minutes.

She kept up this pace until she reached two stations from my home and stopped, doing something else that shocked and amazed me, she began to revert. Normally it happens while I'm asleep, or I revert from a partial change, but this was the first time I was aware of the full revert. It bordered in almost physical pain as she almost screamed as the impossible, seductive power and strength bled away, forcing her inside me as I too cried for the power that I had tasted.

After sobbing and collecting my aching body, I thankfully recovered to catch the next train, and no transit cops were in my car to find out I lacked a ticket, let alone a purse or ID. People just thought I was another New Years party goer, none of them noticed that there were bullet holes in my dress and that I was totally sober with fear, fear of what she did and how narrow my escape. I ran home as fast I my little legs would carry me, and luckily my hidden spare key was still there.

I know some will ask if I recalled more of her fight with the cops than normal, and actually I recalled less than when she was sucking face with anybody who'd come near her. It's just that I had help filling in the gaps thanks to the fact the TV, radio and newspapers have reports on her rampage. There is only a few blurry photos, a few seconds of film, but the media are buzzing with the witness statements of the massive green skined monster and that a task force is being organized to hunt down this monster.

It's not a UFO rumor any more thats for sure :(

I want to be angry at her for endangering us both, because I don't know what to do now, but I'm so conflicted.

When I became her, I felt.... liberated. It was everything I dreamt over, everything I took the formula for and more, sooo much more. But it makes me wonder, if I'm a prisoner when she emerges, is she a prisoner trapped inside poor, frail, fragile, weak little old me? Desperate to get out, to become strong, powerful and vital again? Is it any wonder she's angry at me?

Entry for December 29, 2008

Hello, my name is Katherine and I'm a paranoid wimp who is scared of her own shadow :(

Yesterday after I posted my last entry and I did my Sunday type chores, I decided I'd go out
shopping, partly for myself, partly for her. I had the (inspired? stupid?) idea that if I
bought things to try and keep her happy that I could "convince" her to stay home at least until the heat died off so to speak.

First I went to the supermarket, at a different shopping centre than before Christmas where I had my... "event". Little longer drive, but also had other places I was planning to visit there near by. Much less busy and no problems, until I'm in the checkout (normal one :) ) I saw this man in the one over, fairly broad shouldered, decently built, short cropped hair, who was flicking me the occasional glance. Normally a gal would be happy to get some attention, but his look made me think about the newspaper article and if people were hunting me, so I acted "normally", I smiled and went shy.

A quick "I'm not running" walk later and I'm in little bottle shop next door, Queensland law doesn't allow bottle shops inside supermarkets so Woolies cheats by having them next shop over in many shopping centres. Here I buy purely for her, 4 bottles of low grade Vodka, as I am over booze for the moment. As I leave, I watch the guy from the checkouts head to the counter, he was in the bottle shop the entire time I was there. Now, any sane person would assume that he was just doing what I was doing, heading here direct from buying groceries, but it ups the shiver of fear in me.

My next stop is outside and across the street from the shopping centre, a... uh... I'm not a slut understand...a sex shop. I've never gone to a sex shop without friends, so I felt very exposed and self-concious as I looked over the toys. I'll admit I like how big her breasts are, and the sensations she feels, combined with the sense of raw power do drive me wild, but slightly concerned how out of control her lust seems to be. So far she's only slept with one guy (I know of), but what happened to my old hockey stick are a clear sign she's seeking release. My small-ish stature made it was very easy to claim I was buying them for a friend when I selected some rather large toys.

As I leave, worried enough that somebody will point and yell "slut!" at me, I see him again walking in my direction. My mind is screaming he knows, he knows! as fear takes control. My heart is in overdrive now as I turn and run down the little alley on this side of the street. I felt my heart go from a drumbeat to sledgehammer, veins bulging and straining to contain the dramatically increased flow of blood raging through my system as I stumble and hide behind some boxes. In a way I was glad that she was coming out, to protect me, to save me from harm.

It was then that I watched the guy stop at the top of the alleyway as a little girl and pretty blonde walked up and gave him a hug before they all walked off, completely unaware of my existence. It was all just coinidence he was where I was after all. It was all in my stupid paranoid mind.

I wish I could say that at this point as the fear faded from my system that I began to calm down and slowly revert to normal. I certaintly wished it.

Instead the fear was flushed from my systems as anger, a raw naked RAGE flooded my mind and body, causing me to groan as the change sped up again. My back felt as if on fire as my arms and legs threatened to buckle, muscles twitching randomly and unresponsive. I let out a mental scream, but a mere moan of delight emerged from my pursed lips. I pleaded over and over and over for her to stop, commanded my lips to make the words, but the husky voice that came out proclaimed "No, you stupid paranoid weakling" as I felt a pulse of lust, warmth and power throb through me.

I watched the sleaves of my blouse slide up my forearms as my arms began to grow. I felt the plastic eyelets for the shoulder straps and rear clasp of my bra just snap as chest surged violently forward, the top few buttons on my blouse popping off in response as my breasts turned their attention to them. I felt the crotch of my panites pulled tight across my plumping sex as rear was forced into my butt crack by my swelling bottom, my skirt straining at the sides as my thighs and hips seem both widen. My toes wiggled or twitched and I felt the faux leather of my sneakers and the fabric of my socks just part as cooling air hit my little digits.

My vision began to get very blury and out of focus, so much so I barely noticed as in increasing volume of dark black-greenish hair fell into view. My pleading with her had reached a fever pitch as I knew time was running out, but all she did was growl at me, an almost animal inhuman sound. Then I blinked, and I was sitting on my lounge wearing the tattered remains of my clothes in front of the TV, the early morning light streaming through.

It happened so fast again, and its clear she didn't take too kindly to being bossed around, especially when I was in the wrong for wanting to change. While she refused to stop the change, she did follow my wishes to lay low. I recall that she safely carried my packages and purse, following back alleys and lanes home instead of huge leaps, and for most of the time she sat in front of the TV, eating and drinking. I...I do need to review sex toys before I buy another lot, she ... she kind of broke the ones I bought... like they've been crushed... squeezed out of shape...

Anyway, I've had a big lunch, all my meals are bigger nowdays as apparently I'm eating for two now, but still really wrecked so I'm heading for bed. Hopefully I can recover my strength in time for New Years.

Entry for December 28, 2008

Quiet day yesterday, just cleaning up after having a "party" Christmas night. Thankfully my direct neighbors were out so while she was occasionally noisy, nobody suspected it was all one rather drunk green skinned woman. She didn't trash my house or all its contents, but came close. Pretty much everything moved or shifted, half of it dumped on the ground. Practically the only thing she didn't touch was the Christmas present I got for Doc.

I bought it long before I drank the formula, and it sits forlornly under my little Christmas tree. I really miss Doc, not just for the prospect of find out how to cure or control what I am, but seems unlikely I'll see him anytime soon now that I'm "famous"...

I felt a mixture of emotions hit me when idly flicking through the Sunday Mail, only actual print paper which is mainly just for the weekly TV guide it includes, this morning when I stumbled across a article about "her". Not front page, page 23, but taking up almost the entire page. It would be kind of flattering, if I wasn't so scared by what it portends.

The article seems to take the tact that people are perhaps having too much Christmas "cheer", or its a prank of some sort, though they wonder what a woman with green body paint would be doing running around nude/semi-nude. The even include a handy map of sightings, revealing that if its accurate I've TFed at least seven times which is more than I was previously aware of. But it also revealed that there is another Hulk-like creature out there, and this one is male.

The article has written off the male creature appearances as unclear and misidentification sightings of me/her, which is amusing in an article that seems to be built on outright rumor and the fact that I doubt anybody could not tell the difference between a guy and somebody sporting her chest, but if the timeline they quote is even half-way accurate the male-Hulk appeared before I drank the formula.

The other appearances have occurred at times where I know I haven't changed, at least during the day I'm sure, so it has to be Doc. Well, it could be another guy, but the first appearance happened within a day of Doc ringing to tell me the formula results exceeded his wildest exceptions and after he first didn't show up at the lab, which leads me to safely assume its him.

The map indicates the male/"vague" sightings seem to be heading south, couple in the Gold Coast for example, so he seems to be heading away from Brisbane, his home, the lab... and me. As to why Doc would be running away from everything he cares about, I can only assume he's running, which doesn't bode well for me.

Does this mean I should also be running now that she seems to making the paper, even as a UFO type article in slow news weeks as Christmas holidays, that I may be leading people to me to try and capture me? My escapade in the shopping centre may mean she might be just as concerned about capture as I am, through "appearances" like her Christmas night rampage seems to counter that. The thought of waking up strapped to a table as people try to dissect me doesn't fill me with joy...

Entry for December 26, 2008

Gawd I feel rank. I haven't had a hangover like this in... well... ever.

I'll admit I'm a social drinker at best (and as most can guess not a social butterfly to boot), but I did attend an occasional teenage party and imbibe abit too much Passion Pop so I have suffered them before. I've had a loooong shower, my morning cup of coffee, and I still feel ugh.

Of course, if I/"she" did drink all twelve bottles of Vodka I found myself sleeping on this morning then I'm not surprised. More amazed that I'm still alive and conscious enough now to even type this. Combined with my poor recall when sober, it's making it hard to know what I.. "she" did last night.

I definitely recall changing last night, so much sudden than before. I don't know if it was the Vodka Cruiser I had, or the fact I'd being stewing mentally for hours before hand, but it took less than a minute. Clothes didn't even have time to feel tight, just burst.

I know she drank the rest four-pack I had in the fridge, the remains of the bottles confirm that, and that she was still thirsty.

I'm sure she was leaping through the air and that she was angry that no where was open on Christmas day to buy any more booze, yet I could see a bottle shop lit up like...uh... Christmas.

Next thing out the front of a bottle shop with an alarm blaring and a group of men hustling boxes of booze into a car and ute, and this causes her to smirk and stride forward.

I distinctly recall that one of the robbers just stared at me... her... and she asked if he was oogling her tits. Her response to his stamered claim he was looking at my shirt was to tear the tattered garment off and ask him if he was staring at her tits now.

I think I saw her fist clenched and covered in blood, a hole through the wall of the door and wall beside it, right before she grabbed and tore the rear side door and almost half the back of their car in my... her hands like it was paper and then throw mass of metal towards another robber, and that she was laughing as bullets bounced off her green skin.

I know she picked up a case of vodka and leapt away, laughing as the police arrived, but the next thing I remember, the last thing I can even fuzzily recall, is sitting in my lounge room bitting the entire top off a Vodka bottle, glass, cap and all, before guzzling its contents and giggling.

I can guess some of other things she did after based on the state of my poor house. The TV was on when I woke up, but it was on ABC2 when they don't show any programs, just the ABC guide with DiG in the background. All the Chrissy left-overs are gone, and almost everything except the frozen stuff in the freezer has been stripped clean, and even a couple of boxes in the freezer look like they've been nibbled on.

My CD and DVD collection look like somebody started carefully pulling out cases, and then just swatted the rest on the ground. But strangely the books and photos from high-school and uni, the ones I just kept out of habit and had boxed up in the back of my wardrobe for years were all over the floor in my bedroom, open to various girls and friends I even admired or had crushes on, or outright hated. I also found my old hockey stick from high-school, but it's snapped in half and the handle is soggy and smells like it's been somewhere I'd rather not dwell.

I think... I'll go back to bed as all this recalling and thinking is doing my head in.

Entry for December 25, 2008

I survived Christmas with my relatives, and I only had to go through one shirt.

I wouldn't say my extended family is dysfunctional, just that too many people in close proximity in my parents house, a little too small for so many in a standard Australian summer Christmas, is pressure cooker for frayed tempers.

I also know my mum, aunt, cousins, in-laws and grandma do kind of mean well, but they do tend to harp and nag on me settling down, getting married and having kids. Not as much pressure since my younger brother produced a darling little niece for them/me to dote on, but still get asked about if I'm dating, is it serious, time is running out, wouldn't it be nice to have another grandchild running about. I guess I keep getting hit up because my older sister has the great career, while office girl doesn't seem to be that grand a job to put off my role as baby factory :(

It's not like I can tell them "Why yes, I am still little more than a office assisstant who spends much of her free time holding a torch for a guy who seemingly has not interest in a relationship with me, but recently I drank a formula produced by said uninterested male which transforms me into a green skinned behemoth with breasts the size of sporting goods and muscled the size of ocean liner pistons when placed under emotional stress. Pass the trifle."

Before I would have smiled and nodded, taking the path of least resistance and letting it all roll off my back, apparently "she" doesn't.

Every time I got the well worn spiel, I had to bite my tongue or try to take a drink to avoid causing a scene or making an outburst. But my brother's wife (who earned endless browny points for my dark sheep young brother by producing my parents first grandchild) kept pointing out over and over when suddenly "she" snaps and tells her to go off and make another grandchild herself.

While she storms off in a huff, I'm trying to quietly make my way to my old room as I feel an insistent pressure and warmth flood my body. Cousins from interstate were sleeping in their during their stay, but they were busy playing cricket in the backyard, so it was clear for me to try and reign "her" in.

I'm glad I chose light and comfortable clothes for the day as usual, but by the time I get there all the buttons on my light white shirt have snapped off as my torso seems to widen and I start to overflow my bra. My skin feels clammy and feel like my flesh is roasting as molten lava flows through my veins. Fear of discovery, fear of being caught and labeled a freak by my family, slowly starts to cool "her" warmth and after five or so minutes I'm normal and thanking my mum for not throwing out an old shirt in my former built in wardrobe. I don't even miss lunch.

Anyway, present giving time after lunch went smoothly and I was happy to get any clothes to help bulk out my slightly torn and destroyed wardrobe. I stay for few more drinks and family photos before deciding to call it a day. Normally I'd stay longer, do live over an hour away nowdays, but felt too close a call before and want to be safe. But I'm not.

During the drive home I have the radio blaring, but my mind keeps returning to being told how to live my life and other choices I was told I should have made, back even before the gathering today. Choices and conversations I would have made in hindsight if I wasn't so shy, wasn't so frail, wasn't so scared, so weak. I normally do cringe and review such things, but my mind won't let go tonight.

By the time I get home my mind is racing a mile a minute. My answer to such mauling review of year and life to date is to have a shower, eat some Chrissy leftovers I got slugged with when trying to leave, and drown my sorrows with some booze, write a blog entry and go to my poor empty bed and sleep.

But my mind won't shut down, it just keeps racing and racing and racing. I can't change the past but I can't stop focusing on it. Why can't I calm down! Why! WHY!?

No!

Nononono! Its never this fast! Please stop. Please Stop. Please Stop. Please Stop. Please Stop. Please Stop. Please don't stop. Don't Stop. Don't Stop. DON'T STOP. DON'T STO-

message ends

Entry for December 23, 2008

It was my own fault.

But a couple of days with no success at prompting a change made me less wary, and with no work to take my mind off it, I got myself into trouble: I decided to go shopping.

I know, shopping, at Christmas time, how could I be any more stupid? But I needed to pick up a few grocery items and I (stupidly) thought that since I wasn't going gift shopping that the supermarkets wouldn't be that bad, right?

I got there early enough that parking wasn't too much of a problem, though had a couple of prime parks close to the doors snatched, but didn't bother me that much. Benefit of small car, can park in the smaller bays. When I first got in, it was a little busy, and a little worrying considering not even 9am yet so half the stores weren't open yet. So I (stupidly) think, how about I get some food to eat at a cafe first before I do the shopping.

The sandwich and coffee were nice, but not enough to induce a calming aura when I finally enter the supermarket to see bedlam. The kind of bedlam where the lanes are so packed you can't overtake so you have to wait in line on either side for people to make selections, where in turn you can't stop for a second because the people behind you get narky.

But I'm calm. I am so completely utterly calm. But I was kidding myself. Every little niggle and nagging irritation was building and I'm glad when I finally just get to stand and wait at the checkouts. Only some checkout chick comes up to me and asks if I'd like the try the self-checkouts and won't take no for an answer.

Death.

I've tried them before and it was just such a clusterfuck, but she won't take no for an answer. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time all the flaws will be fixed, the instructions will be clear, the explanations straight forward, the scales will work, the process will be smooth. But it wasn't, and again she blames me, like its my fault the stupid thing can't weigh the items, or I took them off the scales too soon, or the barcode scanner seems unable to read every second item. We're really steamed when I finally get to pay and then somebody else says loudly with my voice "Good to see they've fixed the stupid fucking flaws".

The rest of the people waiting at the checkouts watching my attempt cheer and the poor checkout lady is deflating, but I feel an electric pulse running down my spine and the sensation of my hair seeming to writhe as if made of snakes. As I quickly grab my shopping I decide to head to the toilets as I feel the pulse spread as a level of arousal that I didn't feel comfortable with in public caused my heart to pound and my veins to throb with warmth. I'm trying to focus on just sticking me head under a cold tap, but the image of punching the stupid checkout lady and stupid self-checkouts keeps flooding my mind, becoming more and more involved... and violent...

I don't make the toilets, falling to my knees in the service way leading to them, my stomach violently churning, my head aching, ears filled with the sound of blood pumping a mile a minute. I can feel every thread of silk in my underwear as my body presses against them, while a shoelace on my sneaker snaps. I feel like my teeth are about the grind to powder as my jaw clenches. My hands grasp and claw seemingly beyond my control, the nails seeming to be drawing to a distinct point. A cleaner comes up to me to ask if I'm okay, I try to answer and tell her I'll be okay in a minute, but a deep sultry voice emerges from my mouth instead telling her to "Fuck off".

After her sympathy evaporates and she leaves me be, I'm starting to feel less aware of my surroundings and starting to feel my clothes are two sizes too small and starting to strain, as my mind repeats a single thought: Video cameras. They have cameras. They will know who we are.

I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually after a few long minutes of back and forth, I'm me again. My clothes are a bit stretched out of shape, I'm bathed in sweat, but I'm me. Double timing it without appearing to be running, I head for my car and home with all haste.

I'm really, really, really scared for how I'll deal with Christmas day with my family now.

Entry for December 21, 2008

Uh, well. I took the suggested advice to not go out Friday night, but apparently I don't have/didn't have any say.

After an absurdly large lunch, Ultimate Double Whopper isn't my normal fare, and my co-workers lukewarm on going out on the last Friday before Christmas, I talked myself into not going out. Too busy, no backup to avoid sleazy drunks from Christmas parties. So I went home.

It was a boiler Friday night, I didn't realize how hot until I left work (air-conditioned offices are a godsend and curse). By the time I get home I need a shower just to feel clean. After another large dinner I decide to have another lonely old maid night in front of the TV, but I'm still overheating and my head is as muggy as the weather.

So I have another shower, almost all cold, and it seems to do the trick and walking around nude seems to help. At the time I don't see anything wrong with it, because I'm so hot, and my head is all muddled, but now it's as clear as an alarm bell.

I settle down to try and type up a blog, but the words don't come, I'm so confused. I'm rubbing my head trying to physically force some sense into it. It's about then I notice that my skin feels clammy and pale, with a sick green tracery of veins underneath.

I knew what this was, what this meant, but my mind isn't working right and all I can do is stared with a kind of open mouthed yokel expression on my face. The green color in my veins grows darker and seems to be pumping with increased force, starts to seep into my skin and flesh. I feel a kind of warmth, a pleasurable warmth inside me start to leach out to my muscles. I just stare as my arms start to become rounded and hard, not frail and straight.
I feel cloth of my computer chair as my bottom seems to shift and drag across it. I notice my monitor seems to be sinking into the desk as I grow taller. I murmur as I notice my breasts are growing bigger, blocking off the view of my lower body, topped by dark green impossibly hard nipples.

It felt good, so good and then-

It's morning, I'm naked face down on my bed, legs spread.

Again.

At least this time I didn't destroy any clothes (that I know of). But not like again because my feet and knees were dirty, and I recall bits and pieces.

I recall running, feeling my heart pound in my chest, the pleasure of physical exertion.

I recall my hands forcing somebody elses hands onto my chest, causing a pleasure of a different but still physical kind.

I recall arrogance as somebody hit me with a taser and scream as it didn't even phase me.

I recall the moon being far closer than it should be, and the ground being further away than it is normally.

I recall liking what was happening.

Entry for December 16, 2008

My lack of blogging is partly being busy at work, trying to get everything sorted before we go on skeleton staff over Christmas, partly nothing has happened. I haven't blacked out once.

I've realized that perhaps the lack of blackouts doesn't mean I'm not.... changing.

Last few mornings my PJs, nightie and panties in summer, were a little more ruffled than usual.
This morning, things were a... uh... a little more noticeable. The stitching on my sleeves was popped in places, and crotch of my panties were stretched as if I was smuggling a football.

Whatever is happening, my lack of dream recall is preventing me from learning about it any more than if I was just blacking out. But I did have a few "quiet" days, and now it seems to be building again. But to what?

Hopefully not something Friday night, I'm going out for drinks for the... well... first time in awhile. Normally not my thing, but the idea just.... popped into my head. We'll see if the scene is any less depressing than before.

Entry for December 10, 2008

Hello all, I've been busy, but mainly haven't posted because "things" have been quiet.

No more sign of green tan than the still missing Doc, but don't know if lack of blackouts makes me glad... or disappointed. I've tried to trigger a change by...uh... well... playing with myself, but the only thing that happened was to work off some tension.

The closest I came was actually fully-clothed at work. A co-worker nudged me out of the way while walking past. She said sorry, but at that moment I felt RAGE, a terrible powerful anger at her for DARING to bump me. Ask anybody, I don't have even a hint of a temper, and suddenly I'm bumped and I'm insane with rage, I practically ground my teeth in anger and dreamt of snapping her spine in half when she said sorry.

I admit I felt stupid when minutes later I was just standing there, glaring into space with nothing to show for it but a funny look and messed up clothing. Nothing tore, but stretched and shifted.

I've tried to get angry since... but its not like I can fake anger, or prompt it like sexual arousal with a bit of manual stimulation. And I'm not the sort to make people angry with me either, guess it comes with the no temper.

'course I wonder if I've always had a temper, just its being buried or something and... she's... gotten control of it. It would make a kind of sense, as before burst out in response to porn, it'd been awhile since I'd touched myself, and even longer since I had sex with-

I'm beginning to wish again that the formula just changed me and left it like that, instead of this whole confusion. Even worse that I can barely remember what I do, but I don't even get to see the end result :(

Entry for December 07, 2008

ohmygawdomhmygawdohmygawd.

I lost a day. A whole day.

Last thing I remember was...uh... touching myself while looking a porn teaser videos on the internet and I'm getting more worked up than I though possible, or wanted to be, but I couldn't stop. My hands slam down on the keyboard as each heart beat becomes massive hammerfall in my ears. My bra and panties look to be two sizes too small and getting worse. Each heart beat pumps this... energy through me and something is building, I see green-

And then I'm awake, its morning and I'm naked. Again. As I sit down to eat some breakfast and catch the news, I realize its Saturday morning. My mind raced, I blacked out for an entire day. What am I going to tell work? Is it going to get worse, longer gaps?! Its then I found my underwear. The bra is ruined, whole thing is stretched out of shape, the stitching of the cups has torn and the rear clasp is just shattered plastic. My panties are worse, their snapped at the crotch and at hip on one side, as if something incredibly strong just tore them off.

Thankfully now I've had a bit of time to sit and ponder, thankfully I didn't change last night (as far as I know...) and I've began to make some sense of it. The forumla did work, just not in the way I intended. I'm a...uh... "She-Hulk". I don't think it worked in the way Doc intended either (I guess anyway). There seems to be no common trigger, save it happens at night, and I get far bigger than I wanted (or Doc intended, again I'm guessing). The flashes of green are glimpses of myself. I have no idea how big, except much bigger than a 12B (Aus) bra, and strong enough to effortlessly tear clothing off.

I'm scared in part because I can't control whats happening and because I just black out, but part of me is curious. What do I look like? I've seen photos of other people who've become something like me, but they all vary. And those photos don't tell me what it feels like. I know the lead-up, and that felt pretty good last time. The local news bueltin keep trumpeting on about how the police can't locate the massive green skined humanoid was sighted Thursday night, which also means I've been roaming about nude, so I guess that means I really like it.

But can I say its me when I don't remember what happens? But who else could it be, its my body, right?

I don't know what happened next

Dec 4th 2008

I know what your going to ask, and I've read my last entry over and over in the hope it would prompt something, but I just don't recall what happened next. One minute it feels like I'm burning up and my body is tearing apart inside and then... It's morning and I'm lying face first on my bed, legs spread eagled and my clothing in shreds.

I seem to recall flashes of green, must of been some greenish hail clouds in storm, but nothing of note. Must of really being burning up to tear my clothes like that, I guess. I don't know. That's the scary part.

I guess the formula didn't work, or it works very slow, because apart from the blackout I'm the same as before. I'm a bit hungry, but I couldn't really keep anything down last night so I'm making up for that I guess. I went to work as normal because I was still normal.

About the only interesting, and concerning, thing is Doc's absence has been noted, and his lab has been taken over by various men in black suits who glower at all us girls in the office. I timed my run on the formula well, if it indeed is doing something to me. Whatever Doc was doing, he was paranoid enough that he messed with the security cameras in his lab. It went unnoticed until the black suits turned up, so thankfully my visit to the lab hasn't been noted even if they know someone was in there and drank the formula. Apparently, as far as lunch room overheard gossip goes there was a thin film where the formula sat at before somebody (ie me) drank it, so they can tell there was more. I hadn't even thought to look for that kind of thing, to tell if somebody else had drank some before me. Too late now to check.

Apart from that, uneventful day and now washing my clothes in my underwear. Benefit of living alone I guess, and I'm not that sure of my body to be walking around naked or anything. Looking at myself in the mirror did make me reflect (ha!) on how long its been since anybody else has seen me in a state of undress though. Its been... awhile, and I guess I do kind of need to be with a guy... or a girl.

Which is why I'm in front of my desktop typing this and alt-tabbing to erotic fiction sites to make my hands roam a little. I guess part of why I wanted the formula to make me...well... better, is to make more attractive, to inspire lust in people. That's almost as sad as my rubbing myself on reading stories off the net. Maybe getting too into it. This bra I'm wearing feels a little tight, maybe the formula is working and I've gotten a little bigger. Certainly a larger sized replacement for the one I ruined last night. Damn... I feel so warm all of a sudden, and its been getting worse since sat down in front of the computer and started reading. I don't know if I'm having another "attack" like last night, it feels different. Very Different. That felt like my body was destroying itself, this feels like something is growing and surging inside me, it almost feels like...feels like...fe-

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I'm questioning if I should have drunk that formula now

Dec 3rd 2008

Storm is brewing, both outside and inside me, and better type now and record it before it hits.

It was the third day Doc hadn't come to work. No response to calls or emails, no word at all. One minute he's talking about making a breakthrough, and the next... gone.

Nobody questioned a shy little secretary going into his lab, most of the building staff know Doc and I have a... "relationship". I guess most assume we're going out, but we aren't. Doc is far too shy, and while I've dated before, I'm still "sore" from... things best left unsaid for now. That said, I guess I do feel comfortable with Doc, but part of it is a shared interested. Doc may be producing it for the military, but we both interested in a formula that strengths and enhances the human form. Especially the enhance part.

Doc is, to put it kindly a nerd, and I'm a pair of glasses away from being one too. I know people will say I'm deluded, but I secretly wish I was the kind of porn star shaped goddess men lust after, that I find attractive in a way, that I got left for-

Sorry, I'll focus. The lab was empty and quiet save for the background noise of Doc's various computers and chemical stations. No apparent sign of foul play, no clue to where he'd gone. But one possible clue to why, and one which drew my attention like a magnet: a large chemical flask filled with a thick rich neon green liquid, still bubbling at three days. The flask sat dangerously near the edge of the counter, which made me wonder if indeed the normally careful and considered Doc was scared or in a hurry. I stared at the sick thick green ooze, eyes going wide as it bubbled.

That... was it.

This was the breakthrough, Doc had cracked it. He mentioned he was so close that I knew that it was ready and my slim chance of using it had occurred. It seemed unlikely that if Doc got the go ahead for human testing that I'd be selected, and I wasn't the type to steal it, but this opportunity has presented itself and I had my chance. My poor little heart pounded as I kept looking left and right in case somebody came in, as I grabbed the flask and gingerly lifted it to my lips. I hesitated guiltily, closed my eyes and drank and drank.

To say it tasted foul would be the understatement of the century.

It took an almost superhuman effort to not gag or vomit the formula up, but I sat on my hand and knees for long minutes as my stomach violently fought the goop and waited for it to begin just like Doc claimed it would. But nothing happened and after 10 minutes I felt stupid being on all fours, so I cursed and went back to my desk. Mindless work caused my day to blur, but I kept cursing my stupid belief in a magic formula to make me into some wet dream fantasy.

Yet ever since I came home I've felt.... not quite right. One second I'm fine, the next... my vision blurs for a second and I feel woozy. I'm barely able to stand upright and my thoughts get so muddled. Then I'm fine for some random amount of time, before it strikes worse and worse. I was starving, but even my stomach flip-flopped between accepting and rejecting food. I've now realized something is happening and don't know if I should have drunk that formula.

Its taken me far too long to type this out given my job entails a lot of typing, but getting so hard to focus and I don't know how much longer I can keep going. My clothes feel too tight in places, irritatingly itchy, and my bra and panties just feel too tight in general. Now my skin feels to tight for my body, my skeleton feels to tight for my flesh, my teeth feel too big for my mouth, my brain feels too tight for my skull. I feel hot, far too hot and I don't think its the muggy weather, and its getting harder to keep typing. My hands hurt and my head aches and I'm so confused and scared that I've done something terrible and now my heart feels like its about to explode and body feels on fire and I-

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