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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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This May Be A Work Of Fiction - 1
by TAJocelyn (address withheld)
***
A scientist finds that it's not a good idea to
experiment on yourself. (mf-teens, youths, mast, rom,
sci-fi)
***
PART 1
This may be a work of fiction; I will leave that up to
you to decide. Having said that...
The people portrayed in this work are fictional and have
nothing to do with anyone living or dead. Any
similarities to myself or anyone else are purely
coincidental.
Two years ago; I was a forty year old man with a bad
heart, sugar diabetes and poor eyesight.
Today; I just attended my first middle school dance with
Johnny Rodgers and he just kissed me good night!
I can hear what you're thinking, "Yeah, right, sure,
pass me the shot nurse."
In my case it's not in my head. At first I wish that it
where only a strange dream brought on by the huge
assortment of drugs that I used to take for my bad
health. Then after a while I couldn't believe I had ever
been anyone else other than who I am today.
Let me start from the beginning, Kind of. I can't be too
explicit about the details as this would allow my ex-
coworkers to find me. So let's just say that I worked
for a collage as a research assistant. Not the truth,
but close to it. I will call myself James.
In our genetic code is a wonderful chemical link that
controls how many times a cell can reproduce. This link
is one of the major reasons we age. At a certain point
our cells slow or stop their reproduction and we end up
with a whole host of geriatric diseases.
I wanted to end our dependence on these chemical links.
So I worked on some discoveries made by other people.
One of these used a chemical solution to bind the links
so that they could not degrade and thus it would not
stop the reproduction of new cells. The only problem was
that the amount needed would put the test subject into
anabolic shock. In other words," Kill them."
For two years I tested several thousand chemicals that
would do the same binding trick. Looking for one that
would not kill my test subjects.
Obviously I found one or you wouldn't be reading this
story.
The chemical seemed perfect. 97% of my test animals
survived. So I made a template from a lock of my hair
that was in my baby book. Now any of you who work in a
lab know that in fact I made several dozen.
So I mentioned that I had bad eyesight, right? I guess
you can see where this is going.
Of my templates: several where unusable because of
chromosome damage. Yes, I marked them with a big, "x"
for do not use. My sharpie was old and dried out so my,
"x", looked like a, "y" on one of them.
So why would I use this stuff on myself and not just a
cell culture?
I had a heart attack.
The collage not wanting anyone to steal my work planned
on replacing me while I was in the hospital recovering.
Sure, right, how much for that house on mars and do you
accept magic beans?
Several days later:
When I arrived at my lab I was surprised to find the
military guarding the door. I guess my replacement
didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. 97% is better
odds than any of the childhood inoculations that anyone
has ever received. It's almost a "sure thing" and the
government would make sure that the right people would
control this "sure thing." So I destroyed my research
one night and took only one template, the wrong one.
Did I mention that at the time my eyesight really
sucked?
How did I get in? How did I destroy it?
A funny thing about labs; they explode and burn really
easily. A flammable liquid left out on a counter, a
shaved wire, some steel wool and boom! You have an
explosion. An explosion that can't be examined because
such research is illegal and someone may find out.
And then that night, as my computer files just happened
to be updating when the server room had a similar
accident.
Industrial espionage they all cried! So who was I to
disagree?
We were closed down.
They took my home computer and all my notes that they
could find and warned me what would happen if I
attempted to revive my studies. I and my family would
disappear. And just in case, Like Lazar I would have no
way of proving who I worked for and would join the ranks
of the discredited men who claim to be scientists.
I guess that the government man in charge of searching
me had a thing about putting his finger up another guys
bum. Because he didn't and I walked away with a USB
memory stick stuck up my ass!
I waited several weeks before I retrieved my template
from my old office. Who would suspect what you can hide
inside a chia pet! I'm just glad that no-one watered it
or this story would have been over.
Now for the Frankenstein stuff!
The chemical I found is made naturally by your body. It
only needs a template to reproduce itself and alter the
genetic material of the subject. But this wouldn't
happen immediately, the body would alter over several
days. This part would be extremely painful, so I kept my
subjects unconscious. The subject would go to sleep old
and riddled with disease, then wake in a rejuvenated
state. That's what I planned for myself and my family.
I was just the first step, one in which I tripped.
At my parent's home, we had an old barn built two
hundred years ago. The barn has a cellar cut right into
the bedrock. The upper part burned down in the sixties
leaving the cellar with its stone ceiling intact. I used
the place as an office, workshop, and bedroom from the
time I first went to school in the seventies.
And I could keep an eye on my parents.
So I started my new project.
The first thing I built was the chamber; just a hospital
bed mattress in a plastic tube with a door that can be
sealed from both sides. To this I added a fitted oxygen
hookup and various electrical hook ups for my computer
to monitor the process. For certain reasons the tube
needs to be airtight with pure oxygen during the
process. That was the dangerous part. A single spark and
foosh! You're an overcooked turkey.
When I assembled the chamber, it looked like something
from a science fiction movie. A cross between an
emergency room and a transporter!
By the way did I mention that I hate needles?
Twenty-five bags of saline solution mixed with my
template would be pumped through my body. So I added a
catheter and enema to my list of achievements.
I am and always have been a computer freak. So the
automation was a snap for someone like me.
The day finally came to test my treatment.
I told my mother that I was doing a sleep study and not
to let anyone into my workshop for at least five days or
the test would be ruined. My father, who was in second
stage dementia wouldn't be a problem as he hadn't left
the house in two years. This was another reason to test
it on myself.
On my computer I placed an automated message with
instructions in case something went wrong. How to remove
the catheter, remix the chamber, and resuscitate me if
needed.
I never imagined what really was about to happen.
I closed the door to the chamber and started the IV
computers. The sedative worked like a charm. I was
asleep by the count of ten.
Ten, Funny That Number now that I think about it.
I was in pain, my chest felt like it was bursting, and
every bone in my body felt like it was broken. I could
hardly see through the tears in my eyes. I heard the
pinging of my computer..something went wrong! I couldn't
move my arms and my legs felt like they belonged to
someone else. I saw a silhouette of someone standing
over me.
"James, is that you?"
It was my mother, but she sounded strange. Her voice
sounded different, like something from a memory. A
memory of when I was a child?
All I could manage was, "Mom, my chest hurts, call an
ambulance."
Then everything went black.
I awoke several days later in the hospital. The doctors
where outside my room arguing: "How did a stent get
inside a ten year olds heart?"
The first thing I thought was, "Christ! Could they be
any louder? And why would a ten year old need a stent?"
Another thing," How did she get a catheter in her
urethra? That thing was the size for a full grown male!"
All I could think in my half dazed state was, "Wow that
kid was really messed up."
Then they came through my door.
"Hello sweetie, what's your name?" Yes, these where the
first words spoken to me in my new, "improved?" body.
That's not funny Dr Cline. My name is James and you have
been my family doctor for ten years!
"It wasn't my voice!"
I coughed and said again "I'm James", "I'm James!"
I shook my head.
I felt weird.
I looked down at my bed. "WHAT THE HELL! Whose legs are
they? What happened to my hands? Why am I so Short? What
Happened to my voice?" I could hear a child's voice
screaming.
It was my voice.
Then something strange happened. I started to cry, just
like a child would. "Where's My Mom!"
I couldn't help it. My new body was in control now. With
everything that means for a ten year old child.
Now, my mother was always a strong woman and no-one
messed with her children.
Did I mention that I got most of my smarts from her? Dad
was an intelligence officer in Korea, but mom was always
smarter.
And she heard her kid crying! (Remember the message on
the computer? She figured it out before me, and I'm the
scientist!)
That's my granddaughter Jamie! What are you up to? Who
made you cry baby? My mom was on fire! You leave her
alone!
"HER?"
I passed out.
When I awoke I heard my mother telling the most
outlandish story I had ever heard from her. I was her
granddaughter from that girl I (James) shacked up with
when I was in the military. I (James) was overseas
trying to get an adoption ruling from FRANCE?? She was
playing in her father's lab and accidently hurt herself.
She needs to go home. All you're doing is scaring her!
My head was spinning, but I caught her message and ran
with it. Bonjour, my name is Jamie, I am from France.
(Good thing I speak French!) I was playing doctor and
hurt myself. My father will be mad when he returns. I
was bad and played in his lab. The doctors in France put
the thing in my chest to help my heart.
This did the trick.
For over an hour the grownups argued about Socialized
Medicine and bad doctors!
I couldn't believe it. How could they be so easy to
fool?
Then I got my first look at my new face in the mirror of
my bed stand.
My eyes where the biggest, brownest, puppy dog eyes that
I have ever seen! And my face was like a child movie
stars face. (I can't say who because then it would be
easier to find me.) As a man this child would have
wrapped me around her pretty little fingers! She, I, was
the kind of little girl that every father dreams of!
So I threw up.
To be continued...
This is the end of part one. I have school tomorrow and
mom just brought me my hot cocoa and I still have to go
on facebook and rub it in Michelle's big nose that
Johnny Kissed Me Tonight! I hope dad doesn't kill him
when he finds out!
Archivist's Note: This author did not provide an email
address so it will do the reader no good contacting the
archive staff for further parts. Check back at a later
time to see if there have been any updates to this story
by the author.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 72