Message-ID: <19650eli$9902040441@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: cyan@anon.nymserver.com Subject: {ASSM} New TG: The Lab - Ch. Two 2/2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199902032350.PAA01847@shaman.lycaeum.org> "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 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----