For as long as she could remember, everyone had called her Midge.  Her given name was Jennifer Ann, but no one called her Jennifer, Ann, Jennifer Ann, Jenny or Jen -- just Midge.

The reason was her height.  Midge knew that.  She was born small and stayed small, her growth far behind her peers.  When they hit puberty, they grew up and out.  She grew out, but not up.

Now a young adult in college, Midge was less than half the height of most of her classmates, standing only 31 inches tall.

What was curious was that, unlike most little people, her 2-foot, 7-inch frame was well-proportioned to the point of being stacked.  Were she twice her dimensions, she would stand only 5-foot-2 but would have a 39-inch bust, 17-inch waist and 27-inch hips.

College life was fun for Midge, but it was also a struggle.  The world and all its trappings were too big for her, and simply getting around could be a challenge.

Midge was so short that cars had to be specially adapted for her to drive, and some states would ban her driving because she weighed so little that there would be fears of auto airbags killing her.  She only went out in groups; she was too small to defend herself easily if a date got gropey.  And the only clothes she could get off the rack were made for babies or dolls.

“It’s too bad you’re not tall instead of small, Midge,” her roommate, Kendra, said to her one day.  “With your looks, you could be a model.,”

Midge smiled weakly.  “Yeah, well, I think I’m about as tall as I’m going to get,” she said.

That evening at suppertime, as Midge dragged a tray along an eye-level dorm-cafeteria line, Kendra shouted from behind her, “Hey, Midge!  You dropped this!”

“This” was an envelope that had been in the stack of mail Midge was carrying.  She hadn’t looked at it closely.  Now she did.  It was from a clinic in town.

Midge opened it and read.  “Dear Jennifer Ann Cudahy, We are privileged to be experimenting with a new treatment for growth-hormone deficiency.  We invite you to take part in our clinical trial.”

Just then her tray overbalanced and she dropped all her food.

Midge closed her eyes in frustration.  The big, heavy tray had been too much, and she had had enough.  She would go to the clinic.

It was the third Monday of September when Midge went to the clinic.  They ran a battery of tests on her, including x-rays.

“You’re a perfect candidate,” said the doctor, whose name was Lucy Jones.  “We’ll start you on these tablets.  Take one per day until you notice growth or any other symptoms.  Then call and we’ll decide what to do from there.”

What followed was more than a month of going to the clinic twice per week with no growth.  By then, Midge was getting discouraged.

It was the fourth Sunday of October with Halloween closing in when Midge realized something seemed different.  Her pants and sleeves seemed shorter.  Had she grown?

Not sure, and with time running out, Midge decided the best thing to do was get ready for church.  She would attend the 10 a.m. service.  She opted for a simple pink sheath dress that usually came up to the bottom of her knees.  Today it ended nearer the top.  It was very elastic, which would be a good thing if she had grown.  But Midge couldn’t tell is she had grown or the dress had shrunk, so she proceeded.  With a warmer than normal October, she also wore sandals.

It was during the prelude when Midge felt something strange happening.  The room seemed smaller.  So did the pew, and her dress was really tightening up.

When Midge stood for the opening hymn, she almost fell over.  Her feet hit the floor too soon, and her sandals were several sizes too small.  She had grown, and done it quite abruptly.

Midge had to walk home in her bare feet.  There was no way she could wear the tiny sandals.  She hadn’t grown any more since the prelude, but her sheath was now a minidress, and skin-tight, too.

When she got back to her dorm room, Midge measured herself on a growth chart she had set up.  Kendra was away for the weekend and couldn’t help.  To her shock, Midge realized she was 41 inches tall.  She had grown 10 inches since yesterday!

Midge switched into one of Kendra’s sweatshirts to use as a dress while she hung out in the room.  It was more comfortable than the super-tight sheath.  She tried calling the clinic, but it was apparently closed.

Midge had been ravenous all day.  By the time she made her supper, she had microwaved everything with meat in the room.

As Midge lifted a fork, it happened again.  Midge watched as the fork seemed to shrink in her hand.

Instinctively, Midge stood up.  The sweatshirt still covered her hips, but not with as much clearance.

She scrambled to the growth chart.  She was 54 inches tall -- 4-foot-6, close to normal height for a woman.  Her waist was indescribably tiny for her height.

Kendra got in just before 7:30 p.m.  She nearly fell over when she saw Midge and dropped into a chair when her roommate started growing before her eyes.

Once she recovered, Kendra quickly measured her roommate.  Midge’s build was no longer so top-heavy, but she was still strikingly built.

“One problem, Roomie,”  Kendra said.  “You’re gonna need a new nickname.  You’re 5-foot-4.”

The next morning, Jen reached over to turn off the alarm and missed.  She’d grown larger overnight.

Kendra looked up into her roommate’s eyes as she gauged the chart.  “You’re just under six feet tall,”  Kendra said.  “I think you can afford to skip today’s dose of your growth pills.”

Not surprisingly, Dr. Jones confirmed that Kendra’s recommendation was correct.  She was also concerned.  “The growth process should have been more gradual,” she said, “and I don’t know how much of the medication is built up in your system or tissues -- or, with the way you’re growing, if it’s somehow replicating itself.”  She took a few blood and tissue samples to try to determine what was going on.

Jen hadn’t grown anymore that day, but was ravenous for more meat and dairy products. --  more so as the day went on.  She got through the day on clothing she borrowed from Kendra, and she bought some new, oversized clothes, just in case.

The next morning, Jen reached past the clock again.  A quick measurement confirmed she was now 6-foot-3, although she was still model-thin.

Jen was overwhelmed by the attention she was now getting, especially from men.  They were practically falling all over themselves over her -- and she was now taller than most of them.

By now Jen was used to the ravenous craving for protein she felt as the day went on.  Still, with the growth surges coming further apart and getting smaller each time, she figured she’d probably be only two or three inches taller by morning.

In fact, Jen had grown four inches taller by Wednesday morning, but she had no cravings that day, so she thought perhaps she was done growing at 6-foot-7.  She was still model thin, and would be among the tallest models if she went that way.

When Jen woke up Thursday, she was no taller, but she was already craving protein.  At the dorm cafeteria, she had a breakfast of a six-egg omelet with cheese, bacon and sausage; a triple order each of sausage, ham and bacon; and a steak.  Lunch was two jars of peanut butter and a half-gallon of milk.

It was while she was walking between classes that the growth spurt Jen had been setting up hit.  She was growing so fast that she fell to the ground, feeling her clothes tighten and rip.

After the spurt had stopped and Jen found her strength, she stood up -- and up!  She was clearly well over seven feet tall, and had also grown in girth, especially around the hips and bustline.  She was still decent, but her washboard midriff was exposed and the clothes she wore were in tatters.

With some difficulty -- the cell phone buttons were so tiny now! -- Jen called the clinic.  Far too big to easily drive a conventional vehicle, one of the clinic’s staff came and picked her up in an SUV.  She stretched out as best she could across the back seat.

Dr. Jones examined Jen.  The doctor seemed so teeny now -- but then, so did everyone and everything.

“Well, you’re 7-foot-5 now,” Dr. Jones said.  “It appears your system is still incorporating, and perhaps replicating, the medication.  In other words, you’re still looking at more growth spurts.”

“You’re kidding,”  said Jen.

Dr. Jones winced.  “Your voice, like everything else about you, is getting quite big and powerful,” the doctor said.  “And no, I’m not kidding.”

Jen looked down at the diminutive examining table she sat on.  “Is anyone else growing like me?” she asked.

“Not that I can locate,” Dr, Jones said.  “It appears to be a genetic quirk or chemical imbalance of some kind, something we couldn’t foresee that’s unique to you.  The same effect that left you so well-proportioned when you were 2-foot-7 is mixing with the medicine and causing you to … well, grow like crazy now.”

“Great,” said the giantess.  She stood up, towering over the doctor.

Jen paused at the door.  The top of the doorway came to around her chin.  “I guess I’m ducking through doors for the rest of my life.”  As she did so, a chill went down her back as she thought, I hope I stay small enough to only duck through doors.

Back at the dorm, Jen tried to stretch out on her bed.  Her feet stretched beyond it.

“Cheer up, Jen,” said Kendra.

“Call me Midge,” Jen said.  “I’m used to it, and now it works as an ironic nickname.”

Kendra grinned.  “OK, Shorty,” she said.

Midge laughed.  She knew the tone in Kendra’s voice.  “What’s on your mind, Roomie?”

“There’s a Halloween party -- actually, a whole series of them -- tomorrow,” Kendra said.  “You’d be the belle of the ball, so to speak.”

Midge raised an eyebrow.  “No one’s going to have a costume my size.”

“So who needs a costume?” asked Kendra.  “I’ve got a white silk parachute.  Can you say, ‘toga?’  Who do you want to be?  Venus?  Juno?”

Midge flexed an oversize arm, her bicep bulging.  “How about Mighty Aphrodite?” she asked.

“Now you’re talking,” Kendra said, punching the giantess’ shoulder.

The next morning, Jen could feel the growth start as she wolfed down an even more massive breakfast than the day before.  Her knees lifted the table as her legs lengthened and she packed on more muscle.  Her breasts were between her and the diminishing table.  She ate around them for awhile, then moved the plates atop her newly enormous hooters.

Jen was now well over eight feet tall.  She still had such a small, ripped belly and tight butt that she looked like an incredibly well-built, normal-sized woman -- if you had nothing to compare her to.

The clinic measured Jen at 8-foot-4.  Everything at the clinic seemed even smaller than the day before, and Jen realized she was enjoying this immensely -- as immensely as someone her size could.

Kendra was right about the parties.  Jen was a huge hit with the men, but kept them at the emotional equivalent of  arm’s length.  She was driven now by her appetite, and it was for food and growing at the moment. 

That night Jen’s sleep was disturbed when she hit her head on the wall beside her bed.  Groggily realizing she had grown, she tried pulling her feet up into her bed and adjusting herself.

About an hour later, still sleeping, Jen hit her head again.  She adjusted again, as best she could, still too sleepy to fully realize what was happening.

Twenty minutes later, Jen hit head hard enough to wake up.  She realized she was growing -- a lot.  And she was already far bigger than she had been when she’d gone to bed.

Panic-stricken, Jen stood up -- and promptly hit her head on the ceiling.  She couldn’t even come close to standing up straight.  She sat down on the floor, naked and bawling.

Kendra woke up and rolled over toward her friend.  “Jen, what’s -- Holy crap!” Kendra said.  “Look at the size of you!”

Kendra walked over to Jen, who was now almost as tall sitting on the floor as Kendra was standing up.  “You’re … so much bigger!”  Kendra said.

“I kinda noticed,” the giantess said.

“I think we’d better call the clinic,” Kendra said.

“You’ll have to do it,” Jen said.  “There’s no way I can work the buttons now.  Dr. Jones’ cell is in my contacts list.  We‘d better call her directly.”

While Jen wrapped herself in some bed sheets, Kendra made the call.  Then Kendra turned to her gigantic friend.  “Midge, have you called your parents since this started?” she asked.

Jen looked at her sheepishly and shook her head.  “I figured I’d wait until this was done, but, if anything, it seems to be getting worse,“ she said.  “I guess we’d better do that, huh?”

Kendra nodded.  “Their number in your contacts?”

Jen shook her head.  “At this hour, you’ll need to call the family phone.  Their cells won’t be in earshot.” She gave Kendra the number and had her call, then hand the phone to Jen.

The clinic had to send a box truck because of how much Jen had grown, but she wasn’t experiencing any more surges since she woke up.   Getting to the truck was a problem, since she first had to squeeze through the doorway and down the hallway -- including down the stairs, since she wouldn’t fit in the elevator -- without losing her wrap.  Once that process was done, she folded herself into the truck bed and rode to the clinic.

Dr. Jones stood slack-jawed as she stared up at Jen.  They’d hade to go to the clinic’s lecture room, the only one with high enough ceilings to get an accurate reading of her height.  She now stood 11-foot-7, and weighed 880 pounds.  She had a whopping 83-inch bust, most of which was her colossal breasts.  Her waist, a proportionately tiny 43 inches, flared into a tight (for her height) 60-inch booty.

When the Cudahys arrived, Jen and her mom had to work to restrain her dad from threatening lawsuits.  Jen explained to him that she had chosen the treatment, and that none of them could have predicted this would happen.

Finally, it was Kendra who convinced him by simply saying, “Look, isn’t the first priority figuring out how to stop this?  Isn’t the first priority Jen?”

Chet Cudahy had a strange expression as he looked at Kendra, with whom he was only slightly acquainted.  For an instant, a look of “How dare you?” flashed across is eyes, but it vanished quickly.  “You’re right, of course,” he said.  He turned to his daughter.  “Honey, are you all right?”

Jen shrugged.  “I’m fine, Daddy,” she just said.  “I’m just really, really big.”

Miriam Cudahy patted her daughter’s knee.  “I’m so sorry, Punkin,” she said.  “I wish I’d given you better self-esteem.”

“This wasn’t about self-esteem,” Jen said.  “I was just tired of living in a world that was too big for me.  Now I’m too big for it.”

“We are working to track what’s happening,” Dr. Jones said.  “It’s just so hard, because her growth has been so erratic and unpredictable.  It might help if you stayed here for the next day or two, at least, Jennifer.  We mya be able to get some important data from what happens, especially if we can track a growth surge.  Unless, of course, we get really lucky and you just stop growing.”

Jen found herself craving protein and calcium more and more as the day went on, but she grew no more on Saturday, and was still the same height on Sunday morning.  She felt odd not going to church, but knew she needed to stay put.

It was shortly after noon, during lunch with her parents, that Jen grew again.  This was a relatively small increase in height, as she climber only four inches taller.  It was the first time her parents had seen it happen.  Her dad almost fell off his chair in shock.  Her mom started to cry.  Jen tried to comfort her by using a finger to stroke her mom’s hair.

Miriam reached up to her daughter.  “Give me a hug, please,” the mom cried.

Gingerly, Jen picked up her mother and folded her in her arms.  Miriam was now the size of a toddler to the colossal young woman.

Jen smiled.  “I’m used to getting big hugs from you,” she said.  “I guess I’m giving them now.”

Both Miriam and Chet laughed.  Dad reached up to Jen.  “Looks like you’ve got enough arm space,” he said.  “Can I get in on this?”

Jen beamed as she picked up her dad and added him to the hug.  After a couple of minutes, he caressed her cheek.  “No matter how big you get, to me you’ll always be my little girl,” he said.

“And you’re my big, strong Daddy,” Jen said.

A little over 24 hours later, and after Jen’s parents had left for home, Jen had another four-inch height surge as she finished lunch.  She was now 12-foot 3.

Shortly after 8 a.m. Tuesday, Jen added two more inches to her height.  She hoped the decreasing amount of the increases meant the drug was playing itself out of her system, but Dr. Jones wasn’t optimistic.

Jen’s hope was dashed Wednesday evening as she was getting ready for bed when her height shot up five more inches.  She was now 13 feet tall, and feeling as unlucky as that number sounded.

On Thursday morning, Dr. Jones came into the lecture hall, looking disheveled.  Her hair was a mess and dark circles were under her eyes.  “I think I may have a solution,” she said, “but I don’t know if you’re going to like it.  I’m not sure I do.”

“Doc, you look terrible,” Jen said.

Jones smiled ruefully.  “I was up all night working on this,” she said.  “It’ll stop your growth, I believe, but not without a cost.”

Jones explained the idea to Jen, who directed the doctor to call her parents.  The Cudahys were at the clinic within two hours.

The doctor rubbed her brow as she started the session.  She’d managed to run a brush through her hair, but the puffiness on her face still showed.

“What we’ve determined is that Jennifer’s body is growing in surges as it accumulates enough protein and calcium to do so,” she said.  “It’s continuing to replicate the growth drug she was originally given.  If nothing happens to change the situation, it will continue to do so indefinitely.  There’s no telling how big she’ll get.”

“OK,” said Chet, trying to stay calm.  “You said you had a solution.  Let’s hear it.”

“A possible solution,” Jones said, “and I also told Jennifer I wasn’t sure any of you would like it.  I’m not sure I do.”

“Spit it out, Doctor,” Chet said.

“Even if we tried to structure a no-protein, no calcium diet for Jennifer, she’d keep growing,” Jones said.  “It would just be slower.  The only way that looks like it will stop her growth is to burn it out; to overload the growth mechanism, breaking it.”

Miriam raised both eyebrows.  “Overload it?  But won’t that make her even bigger?”

“Yes,” Jones said.  “Possibly much bigger.  She could become quite huge, even compared to her current size.  But she would stop growing after that, if our projections are correct.”

“What would I need to do?” Jen asked.  “I mean, from the sound of things, I’d need to eat a bunch of food, but what food?”

“Anything with protein and/or calcium,” Jones said.  “The best food, because you’ll need tryptophan is a protein that should help to complete the process, is turkey.  And high protein foods like eggs.”

Jen chuckled.  “Turkey and devilled eggs,” she said.  “Sounds like Thanksgiving dinner.”

Miriam looked at Chet.  “We are going to have to tell the family,” she said.  “They’ll believe it more easily if they see it.”

“This shouldn’t wait until Thanksgiving,” Chet said.  “She’s liable to be so much bigger by then.  Could you put it together by the weekend?”

“We’ll find a way,” Miriam said.

“Um, excuse me,” said Jen.  “You’re forgetting to ask me if I want to go along with this.  That’s kind of important here, you know.”

“Sorry, Punkin,” said Miriam.  “What do you want to do?”

Jen thought for a moment.  “Well, I’m not getting any smaller,” she said.  “I’m already too big to fit into spaces or vehicles easily, and I’m not gonna be able to keep this a secret forever.  So what if I’m bigger now?  Let’s do this.”

The next afternoon, Jen shot up another 10 inches in height. Twenty minutes later, she added another inch.  At 10:15 p.m., she climbed to 14-foot-1.  Her bust was now 97 inches around, and her hips reached to 67 inches.

The feast was set for Sunday, just because of the logistics of getting it put together.  Jen’s ride was to be Sunday morning.  At lunch Saturday, she found herself swelling yet again.  She was now 14-foot-5 and had a 51-inch waist and 79-inch hips.  Her bust was a colossal 108 inches -- 9 feet around.  She weighed about a ton and a half.

Jen surged again shortly before her supper.  She was now consuming massive amounts of protein, including lots of turkey and eggs, in hopes of jump-starting the shutdown process, but she simply grew again, climbing to 15-foot-4.  She wasn’t seeing any change, but hoped the massive amount of food her parents planned to have at the feast would help.

That night, Jen grew in her sleep.  When she woke up, she was 16-foot-4.  Her bustline was now 115 inches, making her still-51-inch waist with its washboard abs look even smaller.  Her hips now measured 86 inches.

Jen grew no bigger before going home.  Her clothing was made from some old parachutes, and still resembled a bikini.  It wasn’t ideal for early November in the Great Lakes states, but the weather was warm for the time of year, and it was the best they could do on short notice.

Family members were astounded to see the girl they still thought of as a “little person,” now three times the height of most of the women.  Once they understood, they were only too happy to let Jen have first dibs on all the food.

And there was so much food!  Family had brought turkeys and deveilled eggs, along with all the other Thanksgiving foods.  Jen passed on most of the other items, even her two favorites: cranberry relish and pumpkin pie.  She was on a mission.

Jen ate until she could eat no more.  Then she would feel a rumbling in her stomach and was able to eat again.  She consumed all the meat, including the giblets, from eight turkeys, five dozen deveilled eggs and drank gallon after gallon of milk.

The growth surge from dinner didn’t hit until later Monday.  When it did, Jen climbed all the way to 22-foot-7.  Her abs still wash boarded, but now on a 73-inch waist.  Her derriere blossomed with a glorious curvature at its 108-inch size -- still tiny for a woman of Jen’s massive height.

Her breasts had become gigantic, even to her.  They now hovered, firm and gorgeous, above her waist.  Her bustline was more than double her waistline, with her bust measuring 162 inches.

Within the week, Dr. Jones tests confirmed what Jen had suspected, since she had grown no more.  The burnout had worked.  She was a towering giantess, but she had stopped growing.

Jen made the decision to drop out of school.  She went public, and told her story to a variety of publications.  She sold a book, written by a ghost-writer, and it was made into a movie.  Jen actually served as the lead actress’ stunt double for some scenes; it saved money on the special effects budget.

Jen quickly found herself becoming an international celebrity and sex symbol.  Better still, she was able to make friends in the business world, and become wealthy enough to live comfortably, even with the needs her size brought with them.

Best for Jen, though, was Kendra.  Jen knew she needed someone practical to be a personal assistant, and having her friend fill that role didn’t hurt anything.  It turned out to be great choice.  Jen lived a long and happy, if unconventional, life, with Kendra at her side.