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From: cyan@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {ASSM} New TG: The Lab - Ch. Two 2/2
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"The Lab" by Rebecca A.
(TG)
This is the second chapter of a story I will produce a new chapter of
(hopefully) every two weeks or so. It contains some fairly mild sex,
but if you're under 18 etc... it's not for you. Those of you looking for
hot sex will probably be disappointed, since it is petty tame stuff.
Feel free to archive or otherwise distribute, provided it is unedited and
no fee is charged for access. This story may not be distributed from any
site that charges money, is members-only, or uses that ridiculous "adult
check" thing (or any similar system).
All rights reserved by the author, who can be contacted at
cyan@anon.nymserver.com
I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know.
Becky
***
By the second week at Tom's I was going stir crazy. I knew if I watched
any more
daytime television I was going to go nuts, and I didn't feel like reading
any more. I
decided that instead of moping around in my pajamas and robe I should get
dressed and
sit out in the sun for a while, so I grabbed a t-shirt and pair of jeans
Catherine had
brought over from my place and put them on. They both felt too big, but
the jeans were
worst of all. I had to use a belt to keep them up, and they seemed too
low on my waist or
something, because I had to roll up the bottoms a bit.
I went out into Tom's yard and soaked up some of the sun. It was nice to
sit outside and
listen to the noises of the world. After an hour or so, though, I got
bored, so I came
back inside. I decided to try to straighten the place up for Tom. Not
that I was ordinarily
any more domestic than him, but like I said, I was really bored.
I decided to start with the bathroom, as the shower recess looked like it
hadn't been
cleaned in a while. Tom's cleaning lady had quit a few months earlier,
and I guess he'd
been too busy to get another yet. As I was cleaning up I found a set of
bathroom scales
in the cupboard under the sink. Weighing myself, I decided the scales
were broken or
something. I weighed 150, down from 220 before I went into hospital.
No-one could
lose that much weight. I looked at my face in the mirror, and saw that I
was awfully
gaunt. No wonder I felt so weak. I wondered what Catherine thought.
While I was thinking about Catherine, I began to think about where our
relationship was
headed. I felt a connection with her that I had never felt with any other
woman. There
was no holding back for me. But I felt, deep down, that she was holding
something
back from me, something very private. Maybe it was a reaction to what was
happening
to me. That was understandable. Or perhaps, I reflected, it was just
paranoia on my part.
I had never felt this way about a woman before, and I suppose it was in
my nature to be
fearful it would all slip away. After all, I had loved Shelley, too, or
thought I did. It just
turned out Shelley didn't love me.
That evening I noticed that the brief time I had spent in the sun had
left me quite badly
sunburned on my face, neck and hands. Sunburn! In winter! I mean, I like
the weather
in LA and all, but no-one gets sunburned in winter.
One of the worst things I had noticed since the accident was that I felt
like my memory
was going. Things I should have known, people's names and events from
recent years,
all started to seem fuzzy. I found myself frequently searching for words,
or for
memories of things that Tom and I had done together when we were talking.
I confided
in Catherine that I thought I was losing my marbles. She said it was
probably just the
stress.
Over the next few days something else began to trouble me. I felt like I
was going nuts,
like I said, but it also seemed as though the world had changed in some
way. At least,
my perspective on it had. I mentioned these feelings to Catherine as
well, and she told
me I was crazy, it was just that I was still feeling weak from the
illness. But the
following morning I was in the kitchen, getting some orange juice from
the refrigerator
while Tom was making coffee, when I was hit with a terrifying revelation.
Tom was
now at least two inches taller than I was.
I had to hold myself up. Tom must have noticed me slump, because he
immediately
grasped my arm. "What's wrong, bud? You okay? You look really pale." He
walked me
over to a chair and sat me down, then crouched down beside me. I checked
his shoes --
no higher than they normally were. I was about to say something, then I
caught myself
--
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