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| Story: A New Life Chatper 3 Wednesday, 12-Apr-2000 01:41:31
Here's where Sarah's life changes forever. Hope everyone enjoys! Six years later....... On an isolated road, just thirty miles from Wyoming's northern border with Montana, headed towards the small township of Clearmont, Sarah was riding along with her psuedo-adopted father, Donald, in his full-sized Ford pickup. He had wanted to go and visit a friend in the nearby town of Arvada, and Sarah had asked if she could go along. He had quickly agreed, looking forward to the company of a traveling companion. Their visit had gone smoothly, and now they were headed back home, quizzing each other about what Elizabeth might be making them up for supper. Sarah was lost in thought, her eyes focused onto the passenger's side rear-view mirror, which was diplaying all of the contry and road that they had already passed. But it wasn't the view that had lulled her into another world. She was going over - yet again - just how she had come to be here, with this very nice elderly couple. She had given up trying to remember any of her past a long time ago. Those memories - her whole life before waking up in the Carters' guest bedroom - was gone. Years before she could have picked up on swirling mental senses that, if she could have seen them clearly, would have given her all the answers she had been searching for. Now those, too, were gone, and she felt a small twinge of regret. Who knows who she had been, what she had been doing before that fateful night? The list of possibilities was almost endless, ranging from good to bad. Now she would never know who she should have been.... Sarah snapped herself back to the real world. That train of thought would not provide any more answers this time than the oher thousand times. That past was behind her; she should be looking towards the future. She had spent a little more than six years with Donald and Elizabeth Carter; she had grown to love them as the parents her amnesia had forced her to leave behind. She had met their youngest daugther when she had come to their small farmhouse for a visit to show off her baby son, and the two had hit it off immediately. In fact, Dana had told her that she considered Sarah a sister. Sarah loved this family, and she couldn't imagine that whatever family she had had previously would be any better than the one she had now. Only two weeks ago they had celebrated her "birthday" - - six years since they had found her alongside the road. They all guessed that she was in her mid-twenties, so Elizabeth had said that she was now twenty-four. Sarah agreed, not having any reference to know for sure - and it had sounded good to her. A sudden jolt from the truck jarred her from her reverie, and she looked over at Donald. His slightly wizened face wore definite signs of irritation. "Flat...", he muttered. He turned the wheel over to the right, letting the big truck slowly come to a bumpy stop along the side of the two-lane highway. "Let me go out and change the danged thing." He opened his door, pulling his old, faded baseball cap onto his all-but-bald head. Sarah watched and felt the door closed behind him, and she, too, opened her door and stepped outside. She instantly saw that the front-right tire had indeed given out. "Let me give you a hand, Dad.", she offered. "I think I can handle a flat tire, hon. But if you want to help, could you go and get the jack for me?" She smiled and nodded, glad to be of some help. She walked around to just behind the Ford's oversized cab. Stepping up onto the runner board, she opened up the right-hand utility case and, with a little difficulty, retrieved the large jack and tire iron. Sarah walked back over to where her father was kneeling. "Thanks. This shouldn't take but fifteen minutes, and then we'll be back on our way." After almost five minutes of cranking the jack up, the tire was off the ground enough for them to work on it. He slowly loosened the nuts, one at a time, from the wheel. After removing and placing each one into the hubcap, Donald would rub both his hands, a look of pain on his face. Sarah looked on with a little concern. She knew that his arthritis had been giving him some trouble recently, and it looked like today wasn't an exception. "Dad, do you want me to take over?" Being "raised" out in the contry, she had become used to helping, both around the house, and out in Donald's large, barn-style workshop where he kept his collection of cars and parts. It didn't bother her at all to get down and dirty, and she was more than willing to give her father a break. She could tell how much the arthritis was paining him. But he waved off her concern. "Nah, I can get this done, Sarah. Would you go and get my cup from the holder? I could use a little water right about now." She gave him another small smile of acknowledgement and stood back up, walking around the front of the truck. She should have known better than to try and get him to relinquish. He had told her many stories of how he had helped put together airplanes for one of the largest manufacturers of aircraft in the world. At home, she watched him rebuild cars from almost scratch. So she should have realized that, after all of that, he wouldn't think twice about changing a flat tire. Sarah returned with the water, sitting down on her haunches, watching him wrestle the spare tire into place onto the wheel, reserving herself from getting closer and helping him mount it. If he wanted her help, he would ask. All of a sudden the truck shivered violently and seemed to drop a bit closer to the ground. "Wha - ?!", Donald cried out. "The jack's slipping! Sarah, prop it back up quick!" Sarah did as she was told. The jack had come somewhat out of place and was no longer supporting the full weight of the heavy pickup truck. If she didn't get it back into place - and soon - the truck would fall completely off the jack, and could hurt Donald. "I'm trying!" She slipped the iron into the swivel on the jack's end and began to crank. But it hadn't gone a half-turn before it stopped. She pushed and pushed on it, putting her entire weight against the iron. But it wouldn't budge. "Dad, it's stuck! I - I can't get it to move!" The truck lurched again, and she heard her father give out a cry of pain. She took her attention off the ailing jack to see his hand in an awkward position with the tire and wheel. "My hand's - stuck.", he got out between gritted teeth. "It doesn't hurt too bad - I don't think anything's broken. It just took me by surprise. But if that jack slips any farther - - " "What do I do?", Sarah agonized, looking around frantically. The stress on her was becoming unbearable. Her adopted father was in trouble, and she wasn't sure what she could do about it. She turned back towards the jack, pushing on it with all her of her might. "Come on.... Come on, you stupid, stupid thing - - !", she grunted under her breath. Why wouldn't this dumb thing move?! Something inside of her snapped. Sarah felt her broiling emotional state going out of control. Beads of sweat began to rapidly appear on her furrowed brow; it felt like her internal temperature had just shot up beyond normal, the heat rapidly building up. Sarah shifted to the right of the jack, settling next to Donald. "Don't - don't worry, Dad.... I'll get this - off from you - - " She was smiling at her father, her hands unconsciously gripping the bottom lip of the truck. She felt the heat inside her chest spreading everywhere very quickly. Sarah closed her eyes, grunting under her breath. The muscled in her arms and legs were stretched taut with her futile efforts to keep the truck from falling even further and hurting Donald. Donald was watching his "adopted" daughter's efforts, knowing that they were in vain. He knew that the large jack was failing, and that Sarah was doing all she possibly could to avert the disaster that he now considered inevitable. He was about to tell her to get back in case she, too, got hurt when the truck finally did fall to the ground....and then he took a closer look at Sarah. She was resting on her haunches not three feet away from him; her eyes were closed, and she was sweating profusely, grunting to herself. But that wasn't what was making his mouth hang open in shock. Her skin - - it was turning green! Donald had seen a lot of strange things happen when people were injured. During his long tenure with Boeing, he had been a witness to many tragic accidents; workers not taking proper safety procedures when operating equipment, the equipment itself failing, and so on. He had helped to stabilize friends and co-workers immediately following such accidents. He had seen them turn a range of colors, as well: pale being the most prevelant because of loss of blood and shock, but also black, blue, and red from ruptured vessels and serious bruising. But he had never, in all those years, seen someone turn green! But that's what was happening to Sarah. Her skin had completely lost its tanned hue, the pale green taking over entirely. She seemed oblivious to the change, her eyes closed, her muscles bulging with effort. In fact, her muscles were bulging more so than before. "What - ?", Donald whispered. His daughter's skin wasn't the only thing that was changing. Her hair's color, too, was changing, the dark-blonde turning more and more dark, getting closer to black with every passing second. It also was gaining a thickness, its strands starting to crawl over her shoulders. Her body was also going through its own alteration. The clothes she had on didn't look to be the right size for her anymore. As he watched, they were visibly constricting around her form, as if they were shrinking. But it wasn't the cloth and leather that was shrinking - it was Sarah who was growing. Her biceps were now very prominently displayed underneath the light-blue denim of her short-sleeved shirt. Her arms were becoming longer as well as thicker, the sleeves moving farther up her arms. Then the sleeves suddenly split open, granting her much stronger and lengthier arms the freedom they so desired. He stole a quick glance to where she had a hold of his truck. Her hands were rapidly expanding, but what he really was watching was their feminine shapes actually digging into the steel alloy, warping it with the sheer strength of her grip. A splitting sound next to his head caused Donald to turn his head more to the left. Sarah's right leather hiking boot was losing its shape as the foot inside changed size along with the rest of his daughter. The boot was tough - - but her foot proved to be more so. The stitching where the tanned leather met the boot's thick sole quickly began splitting; pale green skin was right behind. The leather parted around the entire bottom of the boot, Sarah's expanding foot pushing it out of the way to settle directly on the soft dirt of the highway's shoulder. The growth of her body seemed to be picking up speed while he watched her green foot destroying her boot. The blue jeans she was wearing were past skin-tight; they were now ripping open at the bottom of her legs, which also were becoming longer. Donald couldn't believe his eyes! What was happening to her?! "PINK" Something small and hard hit against the wheel in front of him. He spotted the object as it came to rest on the ground. It was a button. He turned his head back to Sarah and saw that the front of her shirt was coming open, and that a button was missing from where the shirt had started parting. Then he watched as another button suddenly flew off, followed by another. The denim kept opening up, and he felt a wash of embarrassment at the sight of Sarah's bust. Her breasts were swelling up with her green body, and were in the midst of overpowering her white brassiere. Their firm forms were on top of a widening chest, which was pulling her light-blue shirt out of her ripping jeans. Within five seconds all of the buttons were gone and her shirt had fallen open, pulling more and more tightly against her strong (and well-endowed) green chest. Her stomach had also gained some distinct signs of definition, with slight ripples of muscle apparent. Her ruined bra fell out of the shirt, and Donald had to turn his head, feeling uncomfortable with the knowledge that his daughter was now partially nude. Sarah felt very strange. She still had her eyes closed, surprisinly oblivious to the transformation her body was undergoing. The heat had grown to just this side of an inferno within her, and it was beginning to hurt. Her muscles felt like they were cramping; she must be exerting her body too much, but she couldn't give up. Not when Donald was in so much trouble. But the pressure in her legs was rapidly becoming unbearable. Unknown to her, the reason was that her legs had grown too long and large for their present position, still splitting out of her jeans, developing hard yet sexy muscle tone, her green thighs and calves longer and thicker. The small black belt around her waist snapped apart as her hips grew wider and more curved, placing more and more strain against her jeans' waistband. Seperate rips quickly opened up on their sides, Sarah's now-rich green hips widening beyond the jeans' ability to stretch. Finally the pain was too much, and she decided to stand up. As she did so, she found that her hands would not unclench from their positions underneath the truck. Her ears picked up a shapr sound of something tearing, but it was quickly drowned out by a metallic groaning coming from right in front of her. Soon she felt her legs stretch out all the way as she stood up to a new and imposing height. Donald didn't want to believe what his eyes were telling him. It would have been so much easier to explain what was going on if he had been drunk, or suffering from heatstroked, or some other malady. But he wasn't, and so he had to deal with what he was seeing. The young woman - whom he had come to think of as his own daughter - was undergoing some kind of amazing, incredible, and scary metamorphosis. Her body was literally growing out of her clothing, its green-hued shape gaining more muscle tone, but also a more curved, pleasing shape. She had always been pretty....but now she was rapidly turning into some kind of gorgeous, Amazonian figure. Suddenly she began to stand up; as she did so, more rips were created in her poor blue jeans as Sarah's long, well-shaped and strong legs assaulted their fabric and seams. He also received a very impressive view of her wide back, chords of thick feminine muscle moving underneath her rich green skin. Her hair was much more thick that it previously had been; its very dark-green strands had gained slight curls at their ends, which were hanging about the lower parts of her wide shoulder blades, partially visible through her torn denim shirt. But another sight easily diverted his attention from Sarah's new body. As she stood, she was lifting the truck off the ground! His hand was instantly freed after only a foot of added height, and he sat there, absently rubbing it, watching his daughter stand up, lifting the truck with her. His eyes quickly darted to the ground where his truck had been resting five seconds before. He saw the impritns that his truck's right-side tires had left in the dirt. There were also a couple of buttons from Sarah's shirt. His eyes slid farther to the left and caught sight of her right foot again. It had stopped growing - but it was already far too large for her tan hiking boot. Her toes, heel, and sides of her foot had all spread over her boot's sole; the top of the boot had fared a little better - the laces had split apart, along with a wide section of leather that ran from near the boot's toe all the way up to her bared thick, green ankle. He looked up to Sarah's face. Incredibly, she didn't appear to realize what she had gone though, and what she was now doing. Her eyes were still closed, and she was breathing slow, deep breaths, her tattered denim shirt swaying across her bared jade chest. 'Ahhh.... That feels sooo much better.', Sarah thought. As soon as she has stood up completely, the cramping in her legs and stopped. Actually, all of the cramping from her body had suddenly stopped, too. The heat had also rapidly faded into a pleasant warmth, and she felt a slight grin creep onto her face. But there was something nagging at her. As she was standing up, she had noticed that it was taking a little longer than usual to stretch her legs out to their full length. Now, as she was standing, her center of balance was not the same. Also, her hands were still wrapped around something metallic, although she knew she couldn't still be holding onto Donald's truck. After all, she was standing up, for heaven's sake! There was no way that she could have actually lifted that heavy vehicle! "S - Sarah?" Dad! She had forgotten about Dad! "Dad, are you okay?", she asked. That's when she picked up on it - the feeling that something was wrong. The voice that she had heared had come from her own vocal chords.....but it hadn't been hers. She had a high, almost girlish voice. The one she had just heard was deeper, huskier than it should have been. "What's wrong with my throat?", she asked out loud. Again, the throaty sounds came from her own voice box. 'What is going on here?', she thought. Then she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw made her mouth drop open in astonishment and disbelief. Her hands were still around the bottom edge of Donald's truck - which was now resting on only its two left wheels. But those weren't her hands, either. She moved her fingers, and watched the thick, feminine, green-skinned fingers move along with her brain's input. A question on her full, dark-green lips, Sarah's green eyes (which had altered from their blut-gray coloration) began to slide down the rest of her body. Shock was ll she could feel as she saw her long, muscled arms; the ruined denim shirt showing off her larger breasts and toned chest; the wide, long rips in her blue jeans, which didn't even reach her knees anymore; and finally down to her feet, which had outgrown her boots, her toes and heels resting in the dirt. And everywhere she saw her body sticking out from her ruined clothes, Sarah saw green skin. She then looked over at her father, who was looking back at her. "Donald? What's happened to me?" He shook his head, unable to answer. She suddenly felt very self-conscious; with her quick self-appraisal, she had quickly picked up on the fact that her clothing was not nearly up to the task of even modestly covering her any longer. She knelt down, setting the truck back onto the road. She then wrapped her long, strong arms around her chest, trying to hide her large, firm bust. She rested her head into her arms, her dark-green hair spilling over, hiding her face. Donald didn't know what to say. What could he say? That everything was going to be all right? That sound patronizing; besides, even he wasn't sure that everything was going to be all right himself. How could he possbily tell that to Sarah? He quietly finished mounting the spare tire onto the truck (as Sarah had unkowingly placed the truck correctly back onto the jack). When he was finished, he looked over at Sarah. "Sarah?", he asked quietly. "I'm finished. Let's go home." 'Where could they be?', Elizabeth asked herself. Donald and Sarah should have been back half-an-hour ago, and they still hadn't come back. She was beginning to wonder if she should wait on fixing supper when she saw, though the kitchen winow, Donald's truck pulling up to the house. Smiling with relief, she turned around and began the process of preparing the chiken to be fried. She heard the front door open and close again. She heard tow sets of footsteps...but something about one sounded odd. She knew the sounds of Donald walking - 42 years of marriage had done that - and she had come to recognized Sarah's lighter footsteps. But the footsteps she heard going through the living room, and then up the stairs were totatlly unfamiliar. They were heavy - much heavier than she had ever heard come through the farmhouse. They also had that distinctive padding sound against the wooden floor that told the elderly woman that whomever those feet belonged to was also barefoot. When Donald came into the kitchen, Elizabeth suddenly became worried. Her husband had a very strange look on his face. "Donald? What is it, dear? Did Sarah come back with you? Why are you late?" He looked at her, and then she saw him visibly deflate. "Elizabeth, something's happened. You'd better sit down, hon. We have some serious descisions to make ahead of us......" To be continued Terry |
| Story: A New Life Chatper 3 (Terry) (12-Apr-2000 01:41:31) |
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