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Chapter #3
Dr. Hurst's assistant shows up.
by: Unknown
A willowy dark haired girl appears next to the doctor, wearing a white lab coat down to her knees and thin wire glasses framing her pale heart shaped face. Her silky black hair is bound in a ponytail - not a bun, you notice - technically violating lab protocol, but from the way this girl is pursing her lips in a half frown, half pout, you doubt she's someone who cares much for proper rules.
"Oh you're back," Doctor Hurst says, grabbing a clipboard from the girl. "These results look good. I see you've finally improved your handwriting too."
"Thanks Doctor," the assistant says, her accent slightly European. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am dying for a coffee. I've been in the lab all night."
She removes her gloves revealing elegant, pale hands and throws them on the table.
"Move it, new kid," she says to you and before you can get properly offended, she stalks past you. You catch a scent of lavender and fresh leaves.
"That's my assistant, Cheryl Song. Back in Hong Kong she's the heiress to a huge company. Well was. Ran away to the US for some personal freedom. Still adjusting." Doctor Hurst adjusted her own glasses a bit. "Damn good chemist though."
You can't help but turn around and look at Cheryl as she strips off the lab coat and struggles into a black sweater. She's wearing tight blue jeans that hug her slim legs appreciably and when she bends over to retrieve her backpack you find yourself staring at her perky butt.
"Cheryl!" Doctor Hurst says, her voice suddenly sharp.
The girl froze. "Yes?"
"Why didn't our test subject fill out her form?"
"Sarah?" The girl turned around and shrugged. "She doesn't want to come in anymore."
The doctor threw down the clipboard, exasperated. "Damn it Cheryl, you're supposed to give them breaks! Between sessions. Even girls who like being tickled can't stand hours straight."
"But I can't get all the data that way! Whatever, I'll just find someone else."
"I can't just let you keep skating the rules like this Cheryl. You need to start following protocol."
The Asian girl crossed her arms. "Look I'm sorry OK? I got carried away ticking her."
"Now we have to find a new test subject for tonight," Hurst said, musing. "Someone who can actually endure your tickling."
You look at Cheryl and Hurst. An idea seems to arrive on all three of you. The lucky/unlucky victim will be...
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