One Pinch Girl

[giantgirl7foot2]

Having a bit of a writer's block in the Despicable Men story, so trying something new. It will be loosely based on the "Mesomorphs Girl Power" story by ogre22, Ed and Marknew that used to be on here, which I greatly enjoyed and was sad to see unfinished. As such, I'll do my very best not to have the girl grow very tall—but taller than in that story, else there's not enough space on her bones for muscles. There will obviously not be adult content with characters under 18 years old, but there will be swearing.

No, the title is not a typo—I don't like stories about fighting and punching. I have also never watched One Punch-Man.

Enjoy!


One Pinch Girl

“That weird, bald, punchy guy again,” Emma sighted as she entered the living room. The eight-year-old girl didn’t like the cartoons that her brother watched. “Ah-nuh-mei is not just cartoons, dumb brat!" was his typical response. It wasn’t easy having a brother who was twice her age, even if he didn’t look the part. Their interests were nothing alike. Emma could never watch what she wanted. Stille, she didn’t feel like getting into a fight and sat down next to her brother. “It's not fun if he always wins with just one punch,” Emma complained, “and also not possible because these monsters are huge!”

“First of all,” Erik started, “his name is Saitama. Second, he does one hundred pushups, one hundred sit-ups and runs ten miles every day. It made him way stronger than anyone. Besides, size doesn’t matter, you overgrown twerp.” It was true, she was a lot taller than other girls her age. Erik, on the other hand, was a lot shorter than other boys his age. In fact, both of them were exactly the same height. Both of them were also exactly the same weight.

“But he’s so skinny, he can’t be strong!” Emma shot back at her older brother. “What do you know about being strong? You’re just a little girl. Now shut up, I’m trying to watch. He’s about to crush another weak-ass monster with just one punch!” was his final response. Emma stormed off. She was angry at her brother. Always bossing her around and calling her names. She wished she could crush her brother with just one punch!

In her room, the young girl looked at herself in the mirror. She was on the skinny size, average at best. She tried making a muscle, but nothing happened. “How hard can 100 pushups be?” she thought to herself. “Pretty hard,” she realized after the first fifteen. Emma had started just to try it, but she kept going. Surprisingly, the young girl enjoyed how hard she had to push. Fifteen minutes later, she could barely feel her arms. She had required a few breaks, but kept going after each of them. She was not going to give up. She couldn’t see her muscles, but she definitely felt them.

Another fifteen minutes and one hundred sit-ups later, her abs were on fire as well. It was a good kind of pain. This time, she was actually surprised to see that little blocks had appeared on her tummy. The kind of blocks strong people have. She had muscles, real muscles! Of course, the young girl didn’t realize that most skinny people have visible abs, nor did she know what abs were. But thinking that she had muscles was one hell of a confidence boost.

“Next up: running ten miles!” she thought. It was only after about a few laps around the block, that she regretted this decision. Not because she was tired. Emma was completely on fire. It was just that she’d seen some other people running and all of them were skinny. None of them had muscles. She didn’t want to be skinny, she wanted muscles. Muscles to show her brother that size does matter! The young girl raced back home, grabbed the tablet and searched for “muscular leg movement”. It wasn’t too long before she saw a video of a young woman with thickly muscled legs doing something that was called a “squat”. She wanted legs like that, so Emma did that movement. One hundred times. Another fifteen minutes later, she was lying in her bed. Her arms, tummy and legs all hurt, but it was a good pain. She thought that could almost feel her muscles growing. It wasn’t too long before she was sound asleep.

In a few hours, the young girl was about to discover the concept of “sore muscles”. In a few days, she’d discover what the word “mesomorph” meant. She remembered that word because the doctor and her mom had worried about it. It had something to do with a blood test and her appearance not matching. Emma didn’t understand and therefore didn’t care. She would have cared to know, however, that today would mark the final day of being the same weight as her brother.

[kruckan]

Very nice! as a start and for you to have something to write it is good. very open ended. Hope you have a great time writing and you get rid of your writer’s block. 

[jhunter]

Cute. Hang in there.

[srielley]

Good start.  Let's see where it goes...

[phil123]

Great start. Hope it will be a slow mesomorph.

[giantgirl7foot2]

Writing slow is hard. Infinite respect for the authors who manage to drag on growth for chapters and chapters. It might slow down as I try to come up with better descriptions for stuff, but I suppose writing is a learning experience.

Off topic, did anyone else notice the karma system is completely broken? Why does it suddenly drop to -20?


Everything. Fucking. Hurts. For now. Right as she woke up, Emma was hardly able to move. By noon, the pain was mostly gone. After dinner, her body was aching for exercise. One hundred pushups, one hundred sit-ups and one hundred squats. She barely noticed it, but it was already a little bit easier than the day before. Her muscles burned and the young girl could barely move. It felt even better than yesterday.

Each day, her body recovered a tiny bit faster. Each day, her workout went a tiny bit easier. Each day, the burn felt a tiny bit better. Each day, her body longed ached more and more for her workout. Emma happily listened to her body.

“EMMA!” squealed Evelyn from behind her daughter, “y... your... your t-shirt!” The young girl turned around and, slightly annoyed, asked what was wrong with it. She didn’t like that t-shirt. It used to be her mother’s when she was in high school and was given to Emma about a month ago, on her eighth birthday. Emma used it only for workouts, not to get her good t-shirts all sweaty.

Evelyn, like her son, was a petite woman. Evelyn, too, stood exactly five feet tall. Expecting a petite daughter, the plan was to give her that t-shirt as she went off to high school. But her daughter grew, grew and grew. Evelyn was worried and had a doctor check the girl out. Apparently, she was a “mesomorph”—a rare condition in which the body grows more easily. Typical mesomorphs also develop muscles without any effort, which slightly worried the doctor, as the girl before her was not muscular in the least. Still, she was found to be healthy, and all was good.

“It looks... small!” the older woman blurted out as she stared at her eight-year-old daughter. It was true, the t-shirt did look about a size too small. When she had a hard time putting it on, Emma just thought that her arms were tired. In reality, her shoulders now completely filled out the t-shirt. Slight stretch marks could be spotted across a back that was now visibly wider than her waist. Even though she did not grow in height, it looked to be at least half an inch shorter. The doctor was right.

Wanting to see for herself, Emma sprinted to the nearest mirror. Her mom was right, it did look small. Did her muscles grow? Emma lifted up the front of her t-shirt and was greeted by four distinct blocks. Four blocks of muscle. She didn’t even do her sit-ups yet. Emma looked up. At least half an inch of sleeve was missing, taken up by her shoulder. She tried to make a muscle again. Her arm looked a little bigger, but the muscle was under her arm, not on top of it. Determined to make all of her muscles bigger, she grabbed the tablet again. Searching for “arm muscles” taught her about the pull-up. A hundred of those would be added to her daily routine.

Evelyn stared in disbelief as her daughter checked herself out. Was she trying to flex her bicep? Was she getting muscles on purpose? Why did an eight-year-old girl want to get muscles? She imagined her daughter with muscles, which sent shivers through her spine. Whether it was excitement or fear, she couldn’t tell, but there definitely was a hint of jealousy. Throughout high school, Evelyn had worked out vigorously herself. She had wanted to be a cheerleader, a jock. Instead, she’d remained an invisible mouse. Now, at only eight years old, her daughter was probably already stronger than she’d ever been. To make matters worse, Emma was only getting started.

[As]

Nice one...really....waiting for more

[ame3cv62]

This looks like another great story by your,looking forward to more.

[giantgirl7foot2]

What do you guys prefer? Shorter chapters like this that appear regularly, or longer ones with more time in between?


In the end, excitement had taken the upper hand. Evelyn was making sure that her daughter always had enough to eat, mostly food with a lot of protein. Cookies were replaced by protein cookies. Meat was often replaced by chicken. Eggs were part of almost every breakfast. Evelyn couldn’t become a jock in high school, but her mesomorph daughter could, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way.

Emma decided that she would start wearing bigger clothes around the house. She didn’t want her mom to know that she was growing muscles. “Muscles are not for girls,” she thought her mother would say. She thought her mother would try to get her to stop, to look for a different hobby. Emma didn’t want a different hobby. She wanted muscles. “Big, fucking, muscles,” the young girl panted as she completed her final pull-ups.

Her current muscles weren’t big by any means, but they were definitely visible. Two weeks of pushing and pulling herself up and she already had muscles. Still small, but very real muscles. “Punchy guy was right,” she thought. Despite total exhaustion, she tried to make a muscle with her arms. A small bump appeared, extending about half an inch from her arm. Emma liked seeing her muscle. But they still needed to get bigger, a lot bigger. She wanted huge muscles, muscles that could crush her brother with one punch. 

Evelyn was a single mom by choice. She’d opted for two kids, both through donors. They were specifically selected to of short stature as she didn’t want giant kids running around the house. Whether the agency had made a mix-up, or the donor carried some other genes, she'd never know. She did, however, know that her daughter was highly unlikely to stay at five feet for much longer.

“MOM!”, echoed through the house, “it has finally happened!” Standing next to the door frame, the top of Erik’s head was now one inch above the highest pencil mark. “I’ve started growing again!” The sixteen-year-old boy was overjoyed. He didn’t actually care so much about his height, he just wanted to be taller than his overgrown runt of a sister again. The day she smugly realised that she was as tall as him, was still freshly imprinted in his memory. But not anymore. He was now the tallest in the house. After all, he was the only man there.

“Where are you, little runt?” Erik yelled as he looked for his sister. Now that he was taller again, he couldn’t wait to rub it in her face. “What do you want?!” Emma finally yelled back. She’d quickly put on something baggy before exiting her room. “I knew this day would come, shorty!” Erik tried to tease her as he found his sister in the corridor. Emma, looking him straight in the eye, asked him what was so special about this day, except that he was being louder than usual. He looked at her feet. Nothing. She wasn’t wearing heels. “I... I... never mind.” Maybe if he didn’t say anything about it, she wouldn’t notice. 

[ame3cv62]

Whatever i good for u, but if u need to knpw shorter is good with me

[thebaron]

I love your story.

[SilkWords]

I'd prefer longer chapters, but the choice is up to you

[ame3cv62]

Whatever is good for u, but if u need to know shorter is good with me

[phil123]

Like the story idea and looking forward to the next chapters
+k

[giantgirl7foot2]

A bit longer! I'm actually enjoying taking it slow for now.


It took him a few days locked in his room to get over that encounter. While playing games, trying not to think about his stupid, little sister, he came up with the perfect plan. His plan was exactly that; staying in his room and playing games. If his sister couldn’t see him, she couldn’t know that she was still the same height. He’d then hopefully continue growing and confront her once he was certain that he was taller.

Emma had noticed that she’d grown a bit taller. Her pants were too short. She wanted to compare to her brother, but for some reason, he rarely came out of his room these days. Probably playing some stupid game. She imagined being taller than her brother and having bigger muscles. She like those thoughts. She hoped they would be reality soon.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her muscles could no longer be described as “small”.  She looked like one of those gymnasts that she saw on the television. Those gymnasts had already trained for years; she’d just been doing some exercises for three weeks. Her tummy displayed six blocks, six blocks of muscle. She always felt them when she was doing sit-ups and liked how they moved. She liked how they became harder and harder after each sit-up. When she did squats, her legs visibly swelled as her muscles flexed. When she flexed her arms, real muscles proudly presented themselves. The muscle on top—she didn’t know what it was called—protruded almost an inch from the rest of her arm.

Emma didn’t want to look like a gymnast, however. She wanted to have bigger muscles. She knew that she would get bigger muscles. If she already looked like that in three weeks, who knew what she’d look like after six weeks, or nine, or by the time she actually was nine. 

Another week had passed. Another seven days and close to three thousand repetitions later. She was able to do fifty pushups in a row. She finished her pull-ups in three sets. Every night, she went to bed slightly less exhausted. Every morning, she woke up with less aching muscles. Every morning, she felt a tiny little bit stronger than the day before.

Erik didn’t have a clue. He barely saw his sister, and when he saw her, she was wearing baggy clothes and hunched over. He had noticed that she ate a lot. His little sister was getting fat. On one hand, he didn’t like the thought. Even if he grew taller, she’d still be heavier, and it’d be harder to push her around. On the other hand, it was another thing he could tease her with. He really liked the latter and would just have to start lifting weights to become strong enough to push his fat little sister around. 

Erik ordered some weights online. He made sure that his little sister didn’t see them. Two dumbbells, a barbell, some plates for both and a small bench. That should be enough to get started. His goal was not to become a bodybuilder. He just needed to be stronger than his fat little sister. “This will be a piece of cake,” he thought as he started his first session.

It was not easy. Two weeks later, he was still using the same eight-pound dumbbells. His body had not changed at all, he was still thin as a rail. “It’s probably because I’ve grown another inch,” he thought. It wasn’t that he wasn’t determined enough. The idea of taunting his sister was enough motivation to religiously work out every evening. His endomorph body just barely reacted to his efforts. 

“Must... get... stronger!” he grunted week later, as he finished his sixteenth bicep curl with the eight-pounder. He was up from twelve curls last week. “I knew this would be easy,” Erik thought. 

“Must... get... muscles!” Emma grunted in the room next door. She had just finished fifty pull-ups in a row. She felt strong. She had muscles, real muscles. Six weeks of training had completely transformed her body. She used to be a twig. Now, when she made a muscle, her arm was as big around as a tennis ball. After her squats, when shaking her legs, a sizeable mass of muscle wobbled along. She had learned to flex it and different quadricep muscles were clearly visible. Her abs were ripped, with six clearly defined blocks of muscle. Her shoulders were at least one and a half times as wide as her waist. Barely six weeks of working out, using only her body as resistance, and she had a body that would make crossfitters jealous. But it wasn’t enough.

Somewhere in the next week, Emma was at home alone. Mom was out to get groceries. Erik was at one of his nerd friends’ houses. He’d forgotten to close his bedroom door. As she walked by, Emma couldn’t help peeking inside. As she spotted a barbell on the floor, she was struck by fear. Her stupid brother was also working out. Her stupid brother was also gaining muscles.

Emma walked inside. She picked up the barbell and tried some curls—the only exercise she knew with a barbell. After eight repetitions, she felt her arms burn. Twelve was the most she could squeeze out. Her arms were on fire. “Damn it,” she thought, if her brother was using this weight to work out, he was stronger than her. She would need to step up her game. She needed to have the biggest muscles in this house. She needed to crush her brother with one punch. That evening, the young girl repeated every exercise until she couldn’t anymore. Almost nauseous from exhaustion, she fell asleep.

Erik was mortified. He’d left his door open and the barbell could be clearly seen. His sister couldn’t know that he was working out. It was unlikely for the fat girl to care about working out, but he couldn’t be careful enough. Carefully, he rolled the barbell back behind his bed, hidden from view. It was still loaded with forty pounds. Yesterday had been deadlifts. He’d been proud of his new record of eight reps.