[Fonk]

A mere three weeks later… also, I hope to have the next part ready some time early in the New Year. Thanks for continuing to read Tanya's diary… I hope she doesn't beat us up if she finds out!

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Tanya's Diary – Part 5

5 August 2002

I haven't written for six months. Times have been hard.

Although my new body has made lots of the everyday tasks easier, it sometimes makes things harder for me.

Yesterday, for example, I wanted to weigh myself. The electronic scales flashed up the word "overload!" and then suddenly cracked in two. Its maximum was set for 150kg!

Another example: the dressmaker's measuring tape is now too small for my chest. I had to use a builder's measuring tape!

Height:      6'3"
Weight:      502 pounds
Measurements: 81C/29/37
Biceps:      30 inches
Thighs:      45 inches

I don't know why I measure myself without shoes on: I always wear high heels to feel more feminine. With my five inch heels on, I'm 6'8". When I walk into a room, I sometimes feel like the world's stopped turning: every head turns towards me, people freeze and stop breathing. Also, not only do I have to duck before I can get through, I have to walk in sideways – and then carefully! – so I don't destroy the door frame with an elbow!

            —–

7 August 2002

Since we made love in the gym six months ago, we make love at least twice a day. I couldn't do without it but I think I might have to stop: Sam feels very tired and he has really lost weight.

Here's the proof:

Height:      5'8"
Weight:      109 pounds
Measurements: 30/27/30
Biceps:      9 inches
Thighs:      17 inches

His trousers are loose too. I'm going to have to buy him a belt.

            —–

15 August 2002

I went to the shop this morning. I didn't want to waste time so I went straight up to an assistant. I asked where I could find a thick leather belt of about 28 inches in length. I'd never been into that shop before: the assistant, a woman, nearly fainted when she saw me. She needed a good five minutes before she could speak. Even then she had trouble breathing and seemed hypnotised by my arms. Even so, she managed to explain to me that they didn't stock men's belts in that size and told me I should check the girls' section.

She couldn't stop looking at me, so she followed me between the racks of clothes and said she would help me. Finally we found a few that I liked the look of. I took one of them and did the buckle. Then I slid it down my arm so I could put it round my biceps.

They measure 30" when flexed! First the leather belt bent out of shape, and then it literally exploded. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I didn't have the time. The assistant, trembling all the while, collapsed like a house of cards. I just managed to grab her by the shoulders and put her back on her feet. She still had the hem of her skirt between her teeth and her hand in her panties. Huge tears began pouring from her pretty blue eyes and she made her excuses between two sobs.

"Sorry! I'm really sorry! Your arm… it's huge… it's bigger than your husband's waist! Do you realise that? I'm sorry, I came… Yes! I came!" I immediately thought about Sandy. I miss her so much! I went straight to the changing rooms, carrying the assistant in one hand. I locked the door and set her down without saying anything.

I bound her ankles with one of the belts and hung her, upside-down, from the coat hook on the back of the door. It was easy, she could only have weighed a hundred pounds. She didn't even try to resist me. I watched her cry for a moment as she hung there, swinging gently from side to side. Her butt hit the door from time to time and her skirt had fallen back over her chest, revealing her skinny legs and her soaked panties. Her hands hung a few centimetres from the floor. Only her long black hair did hit the floor, gently sweeping the carpet in the changing room.

"Please, don't hurt me! Please!" she begged.

Still not saying a word, I tore her panties away – they'd almost disintegrated anyway. Then I tore off her skirt and blouse. When she was naked, I grabbed her by the waist, put her head between my thighs and kept it there by contracting my quads. I felt her hands move the length of my legs. She tried to free herself, but could not. My thighs were too voluminous for her little arms.

Eventually she couldn't even struggle, hung up against the wall by her feet, head crushed between my thighs. She then got her hands stuck in my huge, sculpted glutes. I tightened the hold I had on her with my legs and thought about Sandy. My clitoris tripled in volume. I felt it smash into the young woman's face. It turned hot and humid. Suddenly a spasm shook me, followed by another. I immediately loosed my grip on the poor assistant to avoid crushing her head in a more violent spasm.

I got her down from the door by taking hold of the belt and tearing it apart. I held her against the door, still with her head down, and brought her sex to my lips by spreading her legs. I plunged my tongue inside it and licked hungrily, thinking about Sandy. I came instantly. I kept licking until she had her second orgasm.

Then I put her down and exited the changing room.

Later I went back to apologise… and pay for the belts.

            —–

20 August 2002

I went back to the clothes shop. The poor assistant has both legs in plaster and walks with crutches.

She said she didn't mind, and in fact would like to go again.

Why not?

            —–

10 September 2002

The idea of giving up sex is just unacceptable. In fact, as bodybuilding and power-lifting contests have become too easy for me, I've decided to dedicate myself to pleasures of the flesh instead.

That's why I've ordered Sam to take better care of himself, and made him come training with me to build up some muscle. He's really very weak.

            —–

14 September 2002

Today Sam did some presses with just the bar, no weights attached. It only weighs twenty-five kilos, but I had to help him on the last few reps. He's really very unfit.

Despite that, he absolutely insisted on doing some curls. Like any man he wants to have big arms.

I tried to persuade him otherwise but, finally, I gave up. I advised him to use four kilo dumbbells. He wanted to use six kilo ones, but he had to cheat to finish his sets. I bet he will not be able to move his arms tomorrow.

I trained too.

This is how the overhead press went:

Sam wanted to load the bar. He tried to lift a disc but couldn't. He could get it standing on its edge, but when he tried to lift it from the floor, it slid through his hands. I stopped him.

"Honey, be careful! You're going to hurt your back. You can see that those are forty-five kilo discs!"

I mechanically piled up three discs and lifted them all together. I started to load the bar by sliding them all on together, all the while talking to him.

"Each one of these discs is almost your own weight, honey!" I paused. "See, I'm putting three on this side, and now I'll put three on the other. With the bar, that'll make a total of two hundred and ninety-five kilos." Sam didn't say anything and sat down to watch.

I easily did my set and put the bar back. I sat up and flexed my pectorals for a moment, before removing the bits of plastic used to secure the weights to the bar. This time Sam couldn't contain himself.

"You're not going to add more weight, are you?!"

"Yes!" I said. "Of course I am!" I paused. "I'm going to add a disc to each side." Sam thought for a moment before continuing.

"That'll make three hundred and eighty-five kilos! That's eight discs!" He paused. "That makes it more than eight times -" I didn't let him finish.

"Your own weight! I know, honey." I couldn't stop looking at Sam. He had the same look in his eyes that he'd had the first time we came to the gym.

"Do you remember the weight you put on the bar, the first time you came to the gym?" I asked him. He lowered his head.

"Yes! Two kilos on both sides."

"Do you remember what you said to me when I loaded my bar?"

"Yes! I said 'ten times as much'! You'd put twenty kilos on both sides." I went close to him.

"Today there is ninety times as much, honey," I practically breathed in his ear.

He staggered back and sat down on the bench behind him so that he didn't fall over. Then he watched me do my sets of three hundred and eighty-five kilos!

Curls with dumbbells:

I did my sets with ninety kilo dumbbells, four with ten reps in each.

For the last set I wanted to get Sam involved. I took a bar loaded with 120 kilos. I held it in the air and asked Sam to lean forward onto its middle, facing me, and holding onto it with both hands. I let him find his balance and then started my last set.

At each repetition, I lifted the bar so that I could glue my lips to Sam's. I couldn't isolate my muscles properly, but it was so good!

I tried to go slowly so that Sam wouldn't lose his grip but eventually I could see that he was having trouble holding on. On the sixth rep he couldn't take it any more: he let go of the bar and fell to the floor.

I put the weight down and asked him to sit on the bar so that I could finish my set. He put his hands on my shoulders and I helped him up so that I could continue my curls.

On the first rep he had to put his hands on my head so that he wouldn't fall forwards. I lifted the bar slowly, concentrating hard on my biceps.

For every curl after that, I brought the bar against my body, chin held out, so that I could stick my head between his legs. I tried to bite his shorts with my lips before letting the bar down slowly. On the tenth rep I saw that Sam was trembling with excitement.

Leg press:

The leg press machine itself has a limit of a hundred and fifty kilos, but it does have some bars to allow you to add on extra weight. I asked Sam to help me load it. He looked at me for a moment before deciding to speak.

"I can't move the forty-five kilo discs…"

"Oh, don't worry," I said. "Just bring the twenty kilo ones, I'll take care of the big ones!"

I quickly brought twelve forty-five kilo discs to the machine by carrying four at a time. During that time, Sam had just about managed to bring two twenty kilo discs.

"OK, honey, let's think. There's a hundred and fifty kilos already there, I've brought five hundred and forty, plus the forty kilos you brought by yourself, that makes… seven hundred and thirty kilos!"

"Seven hundred and thirty kilos?!" Sam cried.

"Yes, you're right. I should add more!"

I walked over to one of the weight racks and took the entire remaining stack of twenty kilo discs. I held them like a stack of dinner plates and stopped in front of Sam.

"Eleven discs, two hundred and twenty kilos… that makes a grand total of nine hundred and fifty kilos."

"But that's almost a tonne!"

"That's right!" I replied. I gave him a one kilo disc to hold and then lifted him up by the waist, sitting him on top of the pile of discs. "With fifty more kilos, that makes a thousand!" I didn't hesitate, because that would have given him the time to get down. I did my set very quickly: a thousand kilos isn't a lot, really. In fact, I then asked Sam to bring all the discs that he could. Eventually he sat down to catch his breath and we used the time to count how much weight the machine was holding: one thousand, four hundred and eighty kilos.

I did three or four reps, and then we had to go home because Sam wasn't feeling too well.

Maybe it was because he'd got too excited?!

            —–

20 November 2002

Sandy wrote me a letter.

Ben and her are separated. She feels alone, and says that she misses me.

Well I miss you too, Sandy!

            —–

26 November 2002

I bought two small trees to replace a couple that had died over the year. This year, Sam really wants us both to work on planting them.

I just think he wants to watch me work. Well, we'll see tomorrow.

            —–

27 November 2002

We went into the garden very early this morning: Sam was impatient to see my muscles fight against the garden tools again.

It was a bit cold, so he put a large woolly sweater over his shirt. As for me, I wore a simple cotton T-shirt so that he could fully enjoy the show. In any case I don't mind the cold weather, even though there's not a gram of fat on my body.

The ground was frozen. I knew straight away that Sam would have trouble digging… I think he knew it too. We hugged and then went to the far end of the garden, each with our own trees. I took mine by the base of the trunk and carried it, one-handed, with me, leaving Sam to fight pitifully with his.

Once I'd got to the fence I grabbed the dead tree with one hand and pulled. The ground didn't resist for a second: it started to break up before opening out into a large hole to allow the network of roots to come through the earth. I stuck the new tree in the hole left by the first. Then I patted the earth back into place with my hand and turned to Sam.

The poor guy was still fighting to drag his tree along. He just got past the halfway mark as I passed him, going back into the house. I can still picture his face when he realised that I'd finished.

Poor Sam! When he came back in it was about nine o'clock. He took an hour to do what had taken me a few measly seconds. The only thing he said to me was:

"I wanted to watch you do it! You know that, don't you?"

Of course I knew it! I'll replace another tree tomorrow, just for him.

            —–

4 December 2002

I've had this idea for a few days now. It's a horrible idea but I can't stop myself.

The other day we were having breakfast on the patio and Sam said to me that he had to go onto the roof to reposition the TV aerial, which had shifted in a strong wind. He was annoyed because he couldn't find the ladder which he had lent to a neighbour.

That was when I had my idea: I thought that I might be able to throw him onto the roof!

Since then I haven't stopped asking myself if I could do it. This morning, I decided to try it out. I went to find a fifty kilo dumbbell in the garage. We didn't have any. It didn't matter: I took the hundred kilo one (that I'd been using to do one-handed curls) and removed ten discs of five kilos, and there it was: a fifty kilo weight!

It felt so light!

I didn't throw the dumbbell onto the roof, so as not to put the tiles at risk. I threw it in the garden.

The first time I was frightened of using my full strength, so it only went two or three metres. Pleased with that, I then threw it up to about five metres. When it came down half of the dumbbell disappeared in the wet ground.

If I'd used both hands, I'm sure I could have got it twice as high!

This evening when Sam came home I lifted him up by the neck with one hand to kiss him, as always, and pulled my other arm into a biceps pose. This time, though, I got a very particular feeling of power. My kiss lasted longer because I wanted to enjoy it forever. I was so into it that I didn't even notice Sam beating on my body, as he couldn't breathe.

The only things I could feel were the ease with which I picked up his skinny body and the growing desire to throw him around the room like a rag doll.

I'm scared I'll go too far.

[Fonk]

Now, all we need is for her to undo the bun and fulfil all our fantasies…

… one at a time. ;D

[Fonk]

Ah, that's good funny. Although…Eleven pecs? Heavens. 😀

I know, it's… odd. 😛

The source material doesn't exactly help…

[Fonk]

Merry Christmas unto you, sir!

[Fonk]

Your girls make me happy. They always have. I hope you're not going to drop out of art altogether, but if so, thanks for the fond memories and this last, fantastic set of pictures.

[Fonk]

Oh, I don't know… I quite like it. ;D

[Fonk]

Hmmmm, very sweet!

… and where are those apples sold again?

[Fonk]

Good work there, sir. ;D

[Fonk]

That was really clever, intense, well-crafted stuff. Thanks so much.

[Fonk]

That's completely amazing. Thanks for posting!

[Author]

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