Getting ready to go spend a day with my family and have lunch with my Mum on this Mother's Day, preparing to get ready for the endless debate and "not-nagging" of my relationship status, when I'm going to settle down, and most importantly apparently when I'll produce grandkids and become a mum myself.
Normally I try to deflect, but I'm increasingly wondering if I'll be honest and open and say probably not ever be. Its partly fear of passing on my "condition", but its also because my relationships are entirely too... crowded. Having to deal with Her, keeping all the problems She causes under wraps, tends to cause as much problems as if I had a children who demanded all my time and attention and resented the possibility of anybody pushing Her aside as centre of my attention.
But also far too many relationships I've been in have ended on the grounds of lack of trust. Problem is my condition is one of Show and Tell, its better to show it rather than say it. Saying it just labels you as either a crazy woman or joking/lying rather than being honest. But showing requires Her to be willing to either be nice. All too often She isn't, partly on the basis that She isn't a performing seal, but mostly because She'd rather save it for the worse possible time.
Sometimes that's while I'm being intimate, or in public, or its being trapped after a car crash on a deserted mountain road while I'm in the car with someone deathly afraid of Her. Generally it always results in screams, fear and people running away.
I suppose some will suggest that perhaps I should date someone who knows about Her, but that brings its own set of problems...
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Sunday, May 1, 2011
My life seems to becoming more and more one of predictable unpredictability. Of constantly being at attention, scared that I'll snap or otherwise somehow lower my defenses and She'll take advantage. That my hands will shake, I'll feel warm, and confusion will bleed away to awareness as I hear my bone grind, flesh shift and grow, clothes tear, horror and fear that I can't stop it, that I'll be found out, I'll be arrested fading as desire and lust for it take hold.
And then I'll wake up the next day in the bed of a guy/guys/woman/women/couple/couples I don't know, or the middle of nowhere with little to no more memory of how I got there. And I'll have to lie more and more, that I don't have a problem, that I'm fine, come up with some truthful sounding explanation for my disappearances, bottle up how much I hate my life and the lack of control I have. Wash, rinse, repeat :(
And support from friends, online and off, is drying up as She burns more and more bridges even with people who know about my condition. Its hard to maintain sympathy for me when I'm chatting or calling when suddenly She's raging down the phone as the handset begins to groan and creak in my hand, or Her fingers are virtually crushing the keys as my clothes get tight in all the wrong places. So the only people are are generally persisting are those that don't want to be cured, those who just want Her and see as a hindrance, which of course makes me feel great -_-
My sleep patterns are becoming worse too, increasingly rare I'll sleep the night through, even on nights I know I don't fully change (stretched PJs only) I often wake up uncomfortable and toss and turn before I finally nod off again, like I'm forced to mentally wrestle with Her even when I'm trying to rest. So more often or not I'll only wake-up because the alarm is screaming at me, feeling like I've barely slept at all.
I think...no, I know I'm a caffeine addict, because I'm drinking insane volumes of coffee to counteract that and make it through work, but I know I'm just making things worse but I have no other answer or way to cope apart from booze, which tends to help Her more than me.
Aren't you glad you hung around.
And then I'll wake up the next day in the bed of a guy/guys/woman/women/couple/couples I don't know, or the middle of nowhere with little to no more memory of how I got there. And I'll have to lie more and more, that I don't have a problem, that I'm fine, come up with some truthful sounding explanation for my disappearances, bottle up how much I hate my life and the lack of control I have. Wash, rinse, repeat :(
And support from friends, online and off, is drying up as She burns more and more bridges even with people who know about my condition. Its hard to maintain sympathy for me when I'm chatting or calling when suddenly She's raging down the phone as the handset begins to groan and creak in my hand, or Her fingers are virtually crushing the keys as my clothes get tight in all the wrong places. So the only people are are generally persisting are those that don't want to be cured, those who just want Her and see as a hindrance, which of course makes me feel great -_-
My sleep patterns are becoming worse too, increasingly rare I'll sleep the night through, even on nights I know I don't fully change (stretched PJs only) I often wake up uncomfortable and toss and turn before I finally nod off again, like I'm forced to mentally wrestle with Her even when I'm trying to rest. So more often or not I'll only wake-up because the alarm is screaming at me, feeling like I've barely slept at all.
I think...no, I know I'm a caffeine addict, because I'm drinking insane volumes of coffee to counteract that and make it through work, but I know I'm just making things worse but I have no other answer or way to cope apart from booze, which tends to help Her more than me.
Aren't you glad you hung around.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Another New Years
I won't say Happy New Years because... I haven't had one in three years, not since I drank that damned formula.
2008/2009 I tried to have a normal...what was my normal New Years by going to South Bank to see the fireworks, drink and have fun, and well... you can read what happened in the archives of this blog :/
2009/2010 I opted to try and exclude myself from anything I thought might set me/her off, renting a small cabin in the Glasshouse Mountains. Beautiful scenery, total quiet. Went to bed... and woke up next day back in Brisbane in a bed with two guys. Taxi ride back to pick up my car/stuff was insanely expensive :(
This time - 2010/2011 - I was convinced to go to a quiet party at a riverside apartment with some girlfriends, nothing super fancy and they claimed they understood that I had a "prior date and might have to leave on a moments notice" to cover any green-ness. But it wasn't a quiet party at all, it was almost a hens party save we wore little hats saying "Happy New Year". Everybody got very drunk very fast, except me, desperately nursing drinks and trying to maintain myself. I tried to flee but they wouldn't let me, everything was spiraling out of control and I could feel her nibbling at the edges, feeling her smugness, knowing that was about to fall apart at any second.
And then my top starts to get beyond tight, bra is digging in in all the wrong places, skirt sliding up my legs, panties are sliding into my butt, I'm downing my still half full glass in an instant while reaching for a whole bottle to follow, She's giggling like a loon while I'm desperately hoping my friends are already drunk enough to cover what will happen. I'm stumbling about, partly from how much Crusiers I've had, partly the fact my muscles are pulsing and twitching as the grow and change. I practically fall onto a friend, locking lips with her, returning the favor much too fast, people cheering as we start to make out.
Then this morning, and I'm me. In a bed. With her.
I have experimented with such things back in my uni days so not total horror at that. But normally I'd flee as fast as humanly possible, but knowing her personally kind of makes that hard to make a clean getaway. So instead its a more measured pondering on my drunken recolections from last night on who might have seen me. Assuming nobody else came in, and none of my friends are lying, drink lowered my repressed defenses and the wild child within escaped but no color change or massive physiological changes.
That said, I probably won't be sleeping well tonight -_-
2008/2009 I tried to have a normal...what was my normal New Years by going to South Bank to see the fireworks, drink and have fun, and well... you can read what happened in the archives of this blog :/
2009/2010 I opted to try and exclude myself from anything I thought might set me/her off, renting a small cabin in the Glasshouse Mountains. Beautiful scenery, total quiet. Went to bed... and woke up next day back in Brisbane in a bed with two guys. Taxi ride back to pick up my car/stuff was insanely expensive :(
This time - 2010/2011 - I was convinced to go to a quiet party at a riverside apartment with some girlfriends, nothing super fancy and they claimed they understood that I had a "prior date and might have to leave on a moments notice" to cover any green-ness. But it wasn't a quiet party at all, it was almost a hens party save we wore little hats saying "Happy New Year". Everybody got very drunk very fast, except me, desperately nursing drinks and trying to maintain myself. I tried to flee but they wouldn't let me, everything was spiraling out of control and I could feel her nibbling at the edges, feeling her smugness, knowing that was about to fall apart at any second.
And then my top starts to get beyond tight, bra is digging in in all the wrong places, skirt sliding up my legs, panties are sliding into my butt, I'm downing my still half full glass in an instant while reaching for a whole bottle to follow, She's giggling like a loon while I'm desperately hoping my friends are already drunk enough to cover what will happen. I'm stumbling about, partly from how much Crusiers I've had, partly the fact my muscles are pulsing and twitching as the grow and change. I practically fall onto a friend, locking lips with her, returning the favor much too fast, people cheering as we start to make out.
Then this morning, and I'm me. In a bed. With her.
I have experimented with such things back in my uni days so not total horror at that. But normally I'd flee as fast as humanly possible, but knowing her personally kind of makes that hard to make a clean getaway. So instead its a more measured pondering on my drunken recolections from last night on who might have seen me. Assuming nobody else came in, and none of my friends are lying, drink lowered my repressed defenses and the wild child within escaped but no color change or massive physiological changes.
That said, I probably won't be sleeping well tonight -_-
Monday, July 19, 2010
Any point going on?
Am I me?
Perhaps a strange question to ask, but I increasingly wonder. I know people change over time, nobody ever stays static (unless their dead) but I have a hard time even relating to who I was only two years ago. Admittedly having a whole other you running around tends to do that, but sometimes I just feel like I've been running around picking up and cleaning up her messes that feel like I'm ceasing to be a person. That at most I'm a shadow of her, trailing along and not actually of substance.
Of course that leads me to wonder if instead of my belief that She's me with all the safety switches turned off, that infact She's the real Katherine and I'm just a pathetic watered version of her.
Perhaps a strange question to ask, but I increasingly wonder. I know people change over time, nobody ever stays static (unless their dead) but I have a hard time even relating to who I was only two years ago. Admittedly having a whole other you running around tends to do that, but sometimes I just feel like I've been running around picking up and cleaning up her messes that feel like I'm ceasing to be a person. That at most I'm a shadow of her, trailing along and not actually of substance.
Of course that leads me to wonder if instead of my belief that She's me with all the safety switches turned off, that infact She's the real Katherine and I'm just a pathetic watered version of her.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Twittering away
My life just seems to be on stand-by, progress a little bit and then pause...
... and when it un-pauses I'm somewhere else, half naked with little to no memory of where I am. Or I'm at home half drunk surrounded by smashed memories and items. Or the blog entry I was writing has mysteriously transformed into window of expletives seemingly blaming me from every wrong in the world.
I'll keep trying, but thought I'd mention I'm on twitter
http://twitter.com/KatTF69
its no much, perhaps that's why she hasn't ruined for me yet...
... and when it un-pauses I'm somewhere else, half naked with little to no memory of where I am. Or I'm at home half drunk surrounded by smashed memories and items. Or the blog entry I was writing has mysteriously transformed into window of expletives seemingly blaming me from every wrong in the world.
I'll keep trying, but thought I'd mention I'm on twitter
http://twitter.com/KatTF69
its no much, perhaps that's why she hasn't ruined for me yet...
Friday, July 17, 2009
Okay so... old posts
I've been asked what happened to my older posts, and now that I'm not getting rung by Doc every day or so I've had time to figure it out.
I'll blog about that shortly, I promise.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Don't know why I'm here
Well, okay I had pondered on this place being a replacement for my last "home", but its probably too restrictive in how much of her "adventures" I can actually post and avoid a ban.
At the moment, she... she lacks.... inhibitions is one way of putting it.
All those beautiful, calm, uneventful months with my boyfriend are gone... back to square one, and boy is she's letting me know. If I had hopes that Doc could cure our control our shared conditions, much like those hidden hopes of a relationship with him before we both drank that fateful formula, I have no such hopes now, we... we can't be in the same room without our "otherselves" wanting to jump the other...
And the fact that I'm cheating... even if its her and not me-me... is only making me feel worse.
I wish Doc has never come back :(
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Entry for April 08, 2009
Oh... I.. I wish I was writing this for better reasons...
Normally... normally I've been posting here about my....uh... "change". I guess I haven't been posting because I've been busy with work and the fact she hadn't been making any appearances. Even my metabolism settled down, still hungrier than before but far cry from January. I... I guess I've been calmer, and it's because....I....uh... have a boyfriend.
I haven't had much luck with guys since.... anyway, I'm not getting younger and it just seems harder to find a good man you know. Mitch... Mitch is different. I feel comfortable around him, he makes me laugh and feel loved, and he seems to like me too. The only problem we've had is even now he's still a bit sore from when this strange, angry green eyed woman shoved him into a wall...
Yeah, Mitch... Mitch is the first security guard I encountered during my "James Bond" style break-in.
I didn't plan on a relationship with him. The first time I went there in a stupid attempt to see if he'd recognize me before she fully emerged. I needn't have bothered, at that point he was drifting between consciousness that he was barely awake. But he just lay there so helpless and I just went to pieces, guilt just weighed down on me. The nurses just assumed I was his girlfriend I guess, they never asked but assumed that my dutiful attendance could mean nothing else. So I kept visiting him after work, nobody else at work seemed to care outside sending him a bunch of flowers and a get well card.
When Mitch finally woke up about a two weeks after he'd met the wall, I had completely forgotten my original intention for visiting him, and if he recognized me from that night. He was shocked that I was there and wondered if there was some ulterior motive. It seems Mitch, despite his reasonably built form, was a bit shy too. So we just talked about stuff and kind of... well... hit it off. Is it any wonder I didn't really post, as my normal life came to the fore?
Its been so long... soooo long since... since I had the kind of life I guess I wanted. A guy I love, who loved me. A good solid relationship. No empty lonely flat, empty lonely life, thinking about what could of been, what might of being if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit bustier, a little be sexier. I guess having what I've wanted, what I'm sure I want, gave me to strength to restrain her, lock her away deep inside where I can't hear her siren call...
I haven't changed in so long that I felt... normal. No looking over my shoulder when ever a police man came near, no overriding nightmares of reflective silver, scalpes and being strapped to tables, no fear that of waking up half naked or worse, normal. An average normal life. I even only thought about and emailed Doc once a week, I didn't feel the need to cure her as I was in control.
It's different for Doc of course, his... the "Creature" is slightly more problematic than she is, almost caveman like mentally and sooo big to hear Doc tell it. So when he announced he was coming back to town to follow up on some promising research and would pay me a visit, who was I to say no? Before... before I would have died to get him back, now...
My heart skipped a beat when I read his email.... and not in a good way. I've felt... a strange unease since that I can't place and seems to be... alien to my moods. I had trouble getting to sleep tonight, fighting not to disturb Mitch as I tossed and turned until I had to get out of bed to do something, anything to clear my mind. So I decide to go to the toilet, have a sit, then wile away the hours on the net until my brain shuts off. But as I turn on the light I catch sight of a sick green glow to my skin. My eyes go wide as I realize what this means, but its gone in an instant. But that unease is still there, stronger and more distinct now, and the now stretched and loose elastic of my two week old crop top and panties reveal its more than mental.
Why now? Why now when eveything is goig so well... why... what's causing it, what's triggering it? Can I stop? Why? Why?
Ooooh gawd...gawd... gawd... I just want to be normal now ;_;
Normally... normally I've been posting here about my....uh... "change". I guess I haven't been posting because I've been busy with work and the fact she hadn't been making any appearances. Even my metabolism settled down, still hungrier than before but far cry from January. I... I guess I've been calmer, and it's because....I....uh... have a boyfriend.
I haven't had much luck with guys since.... anyway, I'm not getting younger and it just seems harder to find a good man you know. Mitch... Mitch is different. I feel comfortable around him, he makes me laugh and feel loved, and he seems to like me too. The only problem we've had is even now he's still a bit sore from when this strange, angry green eyed woman shoved him into a wall...
Yeah, Mitch... Mitch is the first security guard I encountered during my "James Bond" style break-in.
I didn't plan on a relationship with him. The first time I went there in a stupid attempt to see if he'd recognize me before she fully emerged. I needn't have bothered, at that point he was drifting between consciousness that he was barely awake. But he just lay there so helpless and I just went to pieces, guilt just weighed down on me. The nurses just assumed I was his girlfriend I guess, they never asked but assumed that my dutiful attendance could mean nothing else. So I kept visiting him after work, nobody else at work seemed to care outside sending him a bunch of flowers and a get well card.
When Mitch finally woke up about a two weeks after he'd met the wall, I had completely forgotten my original intention for visiting him, and if he recognized me from that night. He was shocked that I was there and wondered if there was some ulterior motive. It seems Mitch, despite his reasonably built form, was a bit shy too. So we just talked about stuff and kind of... well... hit it off. Is it any wonder I didn't really post, as my normal life came to the fore?
Its been so long... soooo long since... since I had the kind of life I guess I wanted. A guy I love, who loved me. A good solid relationship. No empty lonely flat, empty lonely life, thinking about what could of been, what might of being if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit bustier, a little be sexier. I guess having what I've wanted, what I'm sure I want, gave me to strength to restrain her, lock her away deep inside where I can't hear her siren call...
I haven't changed in so long that I felt... normal. No looking over my shoulder when ever a police man came near, no overriding nightmares of reflective silver, scalpes and being strapped to tables, no fear that of waking up half naked or worse, normal. An average normal life. I even only thought about and emailed Doc once a week, I didn't feel the need to cure her as I was in control.
It's different for Doc of course, his... the "Creature" is slightly more problematic than she is, almost caveman like mentally and sooo big to hear Doc tell it. So when he announced he was coming back to town to follow up on some promising research and would pay me a visit, who was I to say no? Before... before I would have died to get him back, now...
My heart skipped a beat when I read his email.... and not in a good way. I've felt... a strange unease since that I can't place and seems to be... alien to my moods. I had trouble getting to sleep tonight, fighting not to disturb Mitch as I tossed and turned until I had to get out of bed to do something, anything to clear my mind. So I decide to go to the toilet, have a sit, then wile away the hours on the net until my brain shuts off. But as I turn on the light I catch sight of a sick green glow to my skin. My eyes go wide as I realize what this means, but its gone in an instant. But that unease is still there, stronger and more distinct now, and the now stretched and loose elastic of my two week old crop top and panties reveal its more than mental.
Why now? Why now when eveything is goig so well... why... what's causing it, what's triggering it? Can I stop? Why? Why?
Ooooh gawd...gawd... gawd... I just want to be normal now ;_;
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Entry for January 19, 2009
Dammit, now matter how much I sleep, no matter how much I eat, I'm constantly tired and starving. I barely get home and I'm about ready to keel over. Its only on the weekend I seem to be "catching my breath" so to speak. Is work taking that much out of me? I was hungry and tired when I was on leave, when I was changing, where now I'm just going to work and not changing (as far as I am aware, which could mean I am change, and much more often perhaps...)
At any rate, work is slowly getting back to normal after our... green skinned visitor. It was all
the bimbos could talk about, for a day. Then back to the same old, same old. I'm actually kind of glad, after the paranoia racked first day back. Walking down those hallways was disconcerting, everything felt... well... wrong... like the roof was too high and I felt very small and very open to being captured. My eyes went wide when I saw the hole diagonally through the corner, it was closer to my eye level now. Doc's lab had been trashed, far more than I recalled. The police and the MiB's were poring over it, and took my wide eyed fear to be concern that my place of employment had been broken into, not that I(kinda) was the one who did it.
That was because they knew who broke in, they had video evidence of who broken in.
After my/her big show of smashing all the cameras in the building, we forgot one. One very important one, the one in the lab. This was of course the second time I missed it, the first being one I drank the formula. Lucikly that time "fixed" it so it just replayed the same empty lab, but this time they had me... well... her dead to rights.
The delightful Jennifer (who quite happily spoke about me and Doc to strange men while I was on leave) is presently involved with one of the security guards who was off that night, but who gave her access to the video from the camera. A little cajoling from me and the other bimbos let us see it, and thankfully she didn't realize that I'm smart enough to hit "Save as" before "Open File" when she emailed it to us, for my...uh... "scrapbook"?
All the other news clips had been relatively brief and blurry, this was fairly clear and distinct. Lights were off so not perfect and no sound, but you can see pretty much everything. Admittedly if my top had let go you could see even more... Well, you get the idea. Watching her almost "chat" with some unseen voice in her head was disconcerting when it was me. The bimbos misinterupted my interest in the video when I made the mistake of hitting play again within range of them. I turned bright red when Jennifer joked to the other girls in the office that I secretly wished I looked like that, though not for the reasons she assumed caused me to blush and eyes to go wide with fear.
Moving on from that... Doc has responded to my emails and knows I've got his stuff. He's... "busy" as he puts it, trying to avoid those tracking him, but assures me that he will come back to see me eventually. I'm... a little disappointed by that, I'll admit. Since...since I drank the formula.. I've.. been... "tenser" than normal. I was hoping that Doc would... Uh, well... I'd normally... "self-medicate", but it... do..doesn't seem to be helping break the "tension" any more than induce her to emerge.
Is...is she... holding back the change along with keeping up the "tension"? I keep getting... I guess... an impression... that I should go out on the weekend. Last weekend I was just so wrecked that I could barely do the grocery shopping, let along go out for a drink, but this weekend... I wonder if I'll be so needy that I'll throw myself at a guy... and that perhaps is what she wants...
Ah-no, no, no. Ignore that, scratch that. Don't like where that is going. Go to sleep Kat, clearly you need more sleep. Yes, sleep.
At any rate, work is slowly getting back to normal after our... green skinned visitor. It was all
the bimbos could talk about, for a day. Then back to the same old, same old. I'm actually kind of glad, after the paranoia racked first day back. Walking down those hallways was disconcerting, everything felt... well... wrong... like the roof was too high and I felt very small and very open to being captured. My eyes went wide when I saw the hole diagonally through the corner, it was closer to my eye level now. Doc's lab had been trashed, far more than I recalled. The police and the MiB's were poring over it, and took my wide eyed fear to be concern that my place of employment had been broken into, not that I(kinda) was the one who did it.
That was because they knew who broke in, they had video evidence of who broken in.
After my/her big show of smashing all the cameras in the building, we forgot one. One very important one, the one in the lab. This was of course the second time I missed it, the first being one I drank the formula. Lucikly that time "fixed" it so it just replayed the same empty lab, but this time they had me... well... her dead to rights.
The delightful Jennifer (who quite happily spoke about me and Doc to strange men while I was on leave) is presently involved with one of the security guards who was off that night, but who gave her access to the video from the camera. A little cajoling from me and the other bimbos let us see it, and thankfully she didn't realize that I'm smart enough to hit "Save as" before "Open File" when she emailed it to us, for my...uh... "scrapbook"?
All the other news clips had been relatively brief and blurry, this was fairly clear and distinct. Lights were off so not perfect and no sound, but you can see pretty much everything. Admittedly if my top had let go you could see even more... Well, you get the idea. Watching her almost "chat" with some unseen voice in her head was disconcerting when it was me. The bimbos misinterupted my interest in the video when I made the mistake of hitting play again within range of them. I turned bright red when Jennifer joked to the other girls in the office that I secretly wished I looked like that, though not for the reasons she assumed caused me to blush and eyes to go wide with fear.
Moving on from that... Doc has responded to my emails and knows I've got his stuff. He's... "busy" as he puts it, trying to avoid those tracking him, but assures me that he will come back to see me eventually. I'm... a little disappointed by that, I'll admit. Since...since I drank the formula.. I've.. been... "tenser" than normal. I was hoping that Doc would... Uh, well... I'd normally... "self-medicate", but it... do..doesn't seem to be helping break the "tension" any more than induce her to emerge.
Is...is she... holding back the change along with keeping up the "tension"? I keep getting... I guess... an impression... that I should go out on the weekend. Last weekend I was just so wrecked that I could barely do the grocery shopping, let along go out for a drink, but this weekend... I wonder if I'll be so needy that I'll throw myself at a guy... and that perhaps is what she wants...
Ah-no, no, no. Ignore that, scratch that. Don't like where that is going. Go to sleep Kat, clearly you need more sleep. Yes, sleep.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Entry for January 10, 2009
Okay, so I kinda went out on Friday night. I even wore black.
It probably went as well as most Friday nights... ie not good.
I've been quiet for the past few days after I got a response from Doc, planning how to get the items on the list he sent. He was pretty sure he'd crack our "problem" eventually with or without them, but they'd help. And ever so glad to help people. That and I guess.... I guess I had the idea that Doc would have to come back to pick the stuff up, you know?
Anyway, I spent the rest of the week planning like I'm in Oceans 11 or something. reviewing the streets nearby, where the security cameras are, best place to park, how to get the stuff out. For most part she's been quiet. I woke most morning with little clothing on, but I think that's more the both of us having bad dreams than her actually roaming about (I think/hope/assume/pray).
So after work, I pace and drink coffee until its 11pm before slowly driving backwards work, parking half a block away from the main gate. So I climb and leap over the fence, landing on my feet and sprinting towards the building undetected.
Well, that's what I believed would happen. Like I was some kind of super-spy.
Actually it takes me 10 minutes to climb the fence, I get caught and cut my sleeve and arm on the barbed wire at the top, followed by a akward flip over and a long literal fall to the ground, breaking my leg and causing me to let out an almighty yell in response. As I lay whimpering and clutching my leg, a security guard pulls up and runs over to me yelling into his walky talky.
Tears are filling my eyes as everything is going wrongwrongwrongwrong as he screams at me, who am I, what am I doing, over and over and over. I'm wailing like a baby as he's dragging me up to see who I am, shining his torch right in my face, the next thing I know she's roaring at him for blinding her and giving him a shove.
To call it a "shove" would be an understatement, the poor guy was catapulted five meters into wall, slaming into the brick with a horrorific wet thud, my right sleeve going from comfortable to tight and beyond as my muscles go from relaxed to massive, rich green skin showing through tears as the seams burst under the strain as my arm shot forward. I barely pay attention to his loud groan as I stare at my left arm, watching as green seems to ooze across my skin, as the flesh of my hand seems to jiggle and vibrate before my arm twitches, muscle leaping to attention and destroying the fabric.
The zipper on my top slides down as my breasts tingle search for increasing room as they grow larger and larger. The top button on my black slacks snaps as my hips broaden, rear growing plump and round. I/she stands, the bones in my leg violently snapped back into single whole bone, seams stretching and tearing along the inner thighs and calves. My old black hiking boots split between the upper and sole as my... her toes and feet wiggle. The black cap I was wearing "pop"s off as her hair explodes out in a black green explosion.
She/I is breathing hard as the power surges faster and faster through our body, bringing with it that impossible arousal, that terrible arogance. But just like New Years I'm still aware, like my mind is wrapped in cotton wool and I'm looking through a slightly out of focus lense, but aware. Though not in control, as I feel her magnificent body stand, clothes poping and tearing as she shifts and moves, arms flexing, hands roaming and stroking as she grins. I feel it all, but its like a first person shooting game where somebody else is playing and I'm watching, a sensation like she's probing me on where to go... what to do.
I "reach" to type in my security code into the side-door, only to have her snarl at me and rip the panel from the wall, loudly exclaiming that "they'd know who we are stupid" before walking through the door. Literally. The glass splinters into a hail as she effortlessly walks right through it like its not even there. I "point" out the security cameras as she seems to off-handly slaps them from the wall, barely even having to look up due to her increased height. I hear the hurried foot steps of the other guard around the corner, causing her snort as I "tell" her not hurt him.
So she smirks and snarls, punching diagonally through the corner and grabbing the shocked and scared guard by the throat, before pulling her arm back and slamming his head against the wall. She humors me as she puts it and checks to make sure he's alive but unconcious before we move on. In less than three minutes, she's in the lab.
It's been stripped of the computers, but Doc has back-ups of the formulas so they weren't a concern. But some of the chemical compounds are rather... exotic (I should know, I had to order some of them), some of the hardware is obscenely expensive or impossible to order through normal or even abnormal channels. That was the kind of stuff Doc expressed an interest in. She stands confused, until I mentally bring to review the list and "prompt" her on what to get.
My plan of getting one of the little red carts is ignored as she crudely packs the various chemicals, samples and small equipment into boxes, making three short trips between the lab and the fence, before effortlessly leaping over the wall and piling it into my poor little hatchback. After the fourth trip we both agree we've got everything on Doc's list that was still in the lab. And then I feel... like a vaccum inside me sucking, sapping my strength. She's triggered the reversion.
Its just like before the horrible loss of that wonderous power, except because we were both...awake(?), I felt her as the change happened... She was frantic, practically screeching, fighting, weeping like I was killing her.
A few minutes later, I'm sobbing like I've lost everything and everyone in my life, clad in something that looks like a loose top with an absurdly plunging neckline and very short shorts. I slowly pull myself together as sirens being to approach and gingerly drive away, lights off for the first two blocks. After I feel safe, I turn the lights on, hit the drive-thru at a McDonalds for two small Double Quarter Pounder meals to try and fill the incredible hole in my stomach, and go straight to bed. I practically slept all of Saturday away, but I feel mostly human now.
I guess last night has raised some questions about my "relationship" with her. The last two times, New Years and last night, it hasn't been the complete "blackout" of before, I've been there for the change, for the tremendous wonderous feelings of being her. Yet both times it was because she wanted it, either to show me what it was like (New Years) or because she needed my knowledge of work.
Has she always controlled how much I recall, or is this only a recent change? If she's always controlled it...
But the fact she kept me "awake" last night seems to indicate its as much a double edged sword for her as me, she only has access to my knowledge when I'm awake/aware. The way she pawed through my house and belongings would indicate that too, it was all somebody elses stuff to her. Though she must have some knowledge as she can talk, and walk and so on. How much is the question. Is it from a certain point? Is it a distilled or... corrupted version of what I know, like her brutish personality seems to be of me?
The fact I broke my leg and now am completely healed with no ill-effects is almost logical in comparison. This kind of thing was in the original plan, just seems that I can only access to it when I become her. Well, I don't know that, but even more wary about testing that as trying to induce the change.
I'll email Doc I've got his stuff, then I'll have some "breakfast". I'm so hungry.
It probably went as well as most Friday nights... ie not good.
I've been quiet for the past few days after I got a response from Doc, planning how to get the items on the list he sent. He was pretty sure he'd crack our "problem" eventually with or without them, but they'd help. And ever so glad to help people. That and I guess.... I guess I had the idea that Doc would have to come back to pick the stuff up, you know?
Anyway, I spent the rest of the week planning like I'm in Oceans 11 or something. reviewing the streets nearby, where the security cameras are, best place to park, how to get the stuff out. For most part she's been quiet. I woke most morning with little clothing on, but I think that's more the both of us having bad dreams than her actually roaming about (I think/hope/assume/pray).
So after work, I pace and drink coffee until its 11pm before slowly driving backwards work, parking half a block away from the main gate. So I climb and leap over the fence, landing on my feet and sprinting towards the building undetected.
Well, that's what I believed would happen. Like I was some kind of super-spy.
Actually it takes me 10 minutes to climb the fence, I get caught and cut my sleeve and arm on the barbed wire at the top, followed by a akward flip over and a long literal fall to the ground, breaking my leg and causing me to let out an almighty yell in response. As I lay whimpering and clutching my leg, a security guard pulls up and runs over to me yelling into his walky talky.
Tears are filling my eyes as everything is going wrongwrongwrongwrong as he screams at me, who am I, what am I doing, over and over and over. I'm wailing like a baby as he's dragging me up to see who I am, shining his torch right in my face, the next thing I know she's roaring at him for blinding her and giving him a shove.
To call it a "shove" would be an understatement, the poor guy was catapulted five meters into wall, slaming into the brick with a horrorific wet thud, my right sleeve going from comfortable to tight and beyond as my muscles go from relaxed to massive, rich green skin showing through tears as the seams burst under the strain as my arm shot forward. I barely pay attention to his loud groan as I stare at my left arm, watching as green seems to ooze across my skin, as the flesh of my hand seems to jiggle and vibrate before my arm twitches, muscle leaping to attention and destroying the fabric.
The zipper on my top slides down as my breasts tingle search for increasing room as they grow larger and larger. The top button on my black slacks snaps as my hips broaden, rear growing plump and round. I/she stands, the bones in my leg violently snapped back into single whole bone, seams stretching and tearing along the inner thighs and calves. My old black hiking boots split between the upper and sole as my... her toes and feet wiggle. The black cap I was wearing "pop"s off as her hair explodes out in a black green explosion.
She/I is breathing hard as the power surges faster and faster through our body, bringing with it that impossible arousal, that terrible arogance. But just like New Years I'm still aware, like my mind is wrapped in cotton wool and I'm looking through a slightly out of focus lense, but aware. Though not in control, as I feel her magnificent body stand, clothes poping and tearing as she shifts and moves, arms flexing, hands roaming and stroking as she grins. I feel it all, but its like a first person shooting game where somebody else is playing and I'm watching, a sensation like she's probing me on where to go... what to do.
I "reach" to type in my security code into the side-door, only to have her snarl at me and rip the panel from the wall, loudly exclaiming that "they'd know who we are stupid" before walking through the door. Literally. The glass splinters into a hail as she effortlessly walks right through it like its not even there. I "point" out the security cameras as she seems to off-handly slaps them from the wall, barely even having to look up due to her increased height. I hear the hurried foot steps of the other guard around the corner, causing her snort as I "tell" her not hurt him.
So she smirks and snarls, punching diagonally through the corner and grabbing the shocked and scared guard by the throat, before pulling her arm back and slamming his head against the wall. She humors me as she puts it and checks to make sure he's alive but unconcious before we move on. In less than three minutes, she's in the lab.
It's been stripped of the computers, but Doc has back-ups of the formulas so they weren't a concern. But some of the chemical compounds are rather... exotic (I should know, I had to order some of them), some of the hardware is obscenely expensive or impossible to order through normal or even abnormal channels. That was the kind of stuff Doc expressed an interest in. She stands confused, until I mentally bring to review the list and "prompt" her on what to get.
My plan of getting one of the little red carts is ignored as she crudely packs the various chemicals, samples and small equipment into boxes, making three short trips between the lab and the fence, before effortlessly leaping over the wall and piling it into my poor little hatchback. After the fourth trip we both agree we've got everything on Doc's list that was still in the lab. And then I feel... like a vaccum inside me sucking, sapping my strength. She's triggered the reversion.
Its just like before the horrible loss of that wonderous power, except because we were both...awake(?), I felt her as the change happened... She was frantic, practically screeching, fighting, weeping like I was killing her.
A few minutes later, I'm sobbing like I've lost everything and everyone in my life, clad in something that looks like a loose top with an absurdly plunging neckline and very short shorts. I slowly pull myself together as sirens being to approach and gingerly drive away, lights off for the first two blocks. After I feel safe, I turn the lights on, hit the drive-thru at a McDonalds for two small Double Quarter Pounder meals to try and fill the incredible hole in my stomach, and go straight to bed. I practically slept all of Saturday away, but I feel mostly human now.
I guess last night has raised some questions about my "relationship" with her. The last two times, New Years and last night, it hasn't been the complete "blackout" of before, I've been there for the change, for the tremendous wonderous feelings of being her. Yet both times it was because she wanted it, either to show me what it was like (New Years) or because she needed my knowledge of work.
Has she always controlled how much I recall, or is this only a recent change? If she's always controlled it...
But the fact she kept me "awake" last night seems to indicate its as much a double edged sword for her as me, she only has access to my knowledge when I'm awake/aware. The way she pawed through my house and belongings would indicate that too, it was all somebody elses stuff to her. Though she must have some knowledge as she can talk, and walk and so on. How much is the question. Is it from a certain point? Is it a distilled or... corrupted version of what I know, like her brutish personality seems to be of me?
The fact I broke my leg and now am completely healed with no ill-effects is almost logical in comparison. This kind of thing was in the original plan, just seems that I can only access to it when I become her. Well, I don't know that, but even more wary about testing that as trying to induce the change.
I'll email Doc I've got his stuff, then I'll have some "breakfast". I'm so hungry.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Entry for January 06, 2009
I miss being on holidays already. Miss being able to sleep in, just mess about, to not have to rush my meals, not having to wear heels all the time.
I guess there is an upside though, now that I'm back at work I'm not losing myself in endless recrimination or pondering about her, or paranoia fits about if I'm about to be discovered and strapped to shiny metal bed above biiig lights surrounded by doctors.
Instead I'm surrounded by bimbos again. I guess why I gravitated to Doc was because I didn't really click with the other office girls. Since I drank the formula I've been less tolerant in general, and since I went on leave I'm even less willing to put up with them. Of course now I don't have Doc (at work at least) to hide away with.
I would have seriously run away, if I didn't make an effort to get into the gossip line again. They apparently either don't know, or don't care about about semi-nude green skinned amazons running about and seemed much interested if I'd hooked up with Doc on the sly.
About the only that made it worthwhile is that they let slip that with Doc's disappearance, ad the police and MiBs having finished going over the lab, they're going to strip it and reassign it to somebody else. I'm unsure if there is anything Doc may want or need to help find a cure, so emailed him about it. Guess we'll see if there is anything I can do.
As for me, unsure if the days are catching up with me now that I'm properly working, but just really tired recently, head starting to hurt I.... I think I'll lie down...
I guess there is an upside though, now that I'm back at work I'm not losing myself in endless recrimination or pondering about her, or paranoia fits about if I'm about to be discovered and strapped to shiny metal bed above biiig lights surrounded by doctors.
Instead I'm surrounded by bimbos again. I guess why I gravitated to Doc was because I didn't really click with the other office girls. Since I drank the formula I've been less tolerant in general, and since I went on leave I'm even less willing to put up with them. Of course now I don't have Doc (at work at least) to hide away with.
I would have seriously run away, if I didn't make an effort to get into the gossip line again. They apparently either don't know, or don't care about about semi-nude green skinned amazons running about and seemed much interested if I'd hooked up with Doc on the sly.
About the only that made it worthwhile is that they let slip that with Doc's disappearance, ad the police and MiBs having finished going over the lab, they're going to strip it and reassign it to somebody else. I'm unsure if there is anything Doc may want or need to help find a cure, so emailed him about it. Guess we'll see if there is anything I can do.
As for me, unsure if the days are catching up with me now that I'm properly working, but just really tired recently, head starting to hurt I.... I think I'll lie down...
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Entry for January 02, 2009
Good news, bad news time.
Bad news first, generally my preference is to temper the bad with the good, is that despite the fact we've got a bit of cool change to counter all the heat over new years, things seem to be getting hotter here. While she has been bumped from prime time by another level crossing rail crash, there is talk that the army will be called in for suggestions for the taskforce. Seems her bullet proof green skin has got them thinking about "options to subdue the creature". Add into the mix talk of bounty hunters, even Australia Zoo, speaking to the media about tracking her, and its all becoming a literal circus and more fear inducing by the minute.
To hear some people talk about her as if she's a monster, almost a wild animal to be killed or captured scares me, if only because I share a body with this creature. Well... I also wonder if I'm acting like an apologist for her, that if I wasn't seeing things through her eyes that I'd be screaming for her to be put down like an animal too.
I've made a couple of attempts since New Years to try and induce the change, by playing with myself, but getting angry I can't do it, by pleading, but nothing happens. If she really was trapped like I supposed, wouldn't she want out, or does she only want out on her terms? Or is she intentionally preventing the change because she knows that while I keep telling myself its because I want to prevent changes in public, she suspects I'm seeking to regain that powerful form for more base motives?
Enough pop psychology, the good news is that her little rampage prompted Doc to get in contact with me. He's very concerned, but at least understands what I'm going through. It seems he can't control the creature any better than I can control her, and fled because his problem isn't rational, while least she can talk and reason (sorta).
While he's talking with me, he's not coming back any time soon. Doc won't give me all the details, but seems that even if he hasn't gone "public" like I have, he's being chased by something or someone worse than me. I didn't press, but I am a little disappointed. I guess I thought that now we had... something in common, we might get to know each other better, but all he's promised me is that he'll cure or refine our shared conditions.
Now all I have to do is keep my head down and stay in control until he does. Why do I think that's a vain hope?
Bad news first, generally my preference is to temper the bad with the good, is that despite the fact we've got a bit of cool change to counter all the heat over new years, things seem to be getting hotter here. While she has been bumped from prime time by another level crossing rail crash, there is talk that the army will be called in for suggestions for the taskforce. Seems her bullet proof green skin has got them thinking about "options to subdue the creature". Add into the mix talk of bounty hunters, even Australia Zoo, speaking to the media about tracking her, and its all becoming a literal circus and more fear inducing by the minute.
To hear some people talk about her as if she's a monster, almost a wild animal to be killed or captured scares me, if only because I share a body with this creature. Well... I also wonder if I'm acting like an apologist for her, that if I wasn't seeing things through her eyes that I'd be screaming for her to be put down like an animal too.
I've made a couple of attempts since New Years to try and induce the change, by playing with myself, but getting angry I can't do it, by pleading, but nothing happens. If she really was trapped like I supposed, wouldn't she want out, or does she only want out on her terms? Or is she intentionally preventing the change because she knows that while I keep telling myself its because I want to prevent changes in public, she suspects I'm seeking to regain that powerful form for more base motives?
Enough pop psychology, the good news is that her little rampage prompted Doc to get in contact with me. He's very concerned, but at least understands what I'm going through. It seems he can't control the creature any better than I can control her, and fled because his problem isn't rational, while least she can talk and reason (sorta).
While he's talking with me, he's not coming back any time soon. Doc won't give me all the details, but seems that even if he hasn't gone "public" like I have, he's being chased by something or someone worse than me. I didn't press, but I am a little disappointed. I guess I thought that now we had... something in common, we might get to know each other better, but all he's promised me is that he'll cure or refine our shared conditions.
Now all I have to do is keep my head down and stay in control until he does. Why do I think that's a vain hope?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
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?
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?
Sunday, December 28, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
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...
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...
Thursday, December 25, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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
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
Monday, December 22, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, December 15, 2008
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.
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.
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