Too Much of a Good Thing

by: MidnightDragon | Complete Story | Last updated Feb 11, 2010


Our society places a great deal of importance on youth; perhaps too much so. Witness as one woman learns that youth comes with a very high price indeed...


Chapter 1
Too Much of a Good Thing


Chapter Description: Our society places a great deal of importance on youth; perhaps too much so. Witness as one woman learns that youth comes with a very high price indeed...


-1-

I don’t know how much time I have left. Too late, I realized I couldn’t trust Dr. Corman. Bastard! He’s the one that did this to me. The irony is, of course, he just gave me what I wanted.

I look in the mirror and see a frightened young girl. I’m slender and pretty, with golden blonde hair that doesn’t quite reach my shoulders, bright blue eyes, and flawless skin. I think I’m about eight years old. I shiver slightly; it’s cool down here, and I wish I still had my robe. I lost it while escaping Dr. Corman. To be honest, it was only slowing me down, being too large for me now. But it was warm.

I hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it, of course. The first few times you shrink out of your clothing, you try to adjust, but I finally got sick of it. Better to go without clothing. Or so I’d told myself. I think really I was more upset with the clothes Dr. Corman bought for me. He wanted to dress me up like a living doll. I doubt a real little girl would put up with it these days, and for the love of God, I’m a woman!

Of course, telling my reflection that seems ridiculous. My breasts are gone now, nothing but pink nipples. My womanly curves are gone, although there does seem to be the faintest suggestion of the beautiful woman I’m supposed to be. My hips are slender as a boy’s, and the less said about the hairless spot between my legs, the better.

Too young to have sex, and far too young to have ever given birth. Despite the fact I have two daughters. I wish I could call them, but they’d never believe my story.

I sit down in Barry’s big stuffed chair. My legs dangle off the ground and I resist the urge to kick them. As I get younger, I’m very worried that it will start to affect my mind. Dr. Corman’s notes mentioned that he’s amazed I’ve retained my faculties this far.

I think he’s done this before. The notebook never comes out and says so, but it’s implied. I can hear him stomping around, calling my name, but he’ll never find me. Barry’s hideaway. I teased him about it so much when he was alive, but now, it’s saving my life. What’s left of it.

I remember when the house was being built, him grinning like a kid. “I’ve always wanted to live in a house with a secret passage and a hidden room.” I just shook my head at the time. I hadn’t touched the room at all in the years since his death. His books still line the shelves along the wall. I notice one of his blank journals sitting on the desk. I reach up for it, but it’s too high. I have to kneel to get it, and a pen.

I sit back down, the leather-bound book in my lap. I need to write, I need to tell my story, so that one day, when they find the tiny bones of a prematurely born infant, they’ll know who I was.

-2-

Barry was a good man, and a good father. Both girls were grown when he died. Mary was 23, fresh out of college, and Lina was a few weeks shy of 19, touring Europe with her crazy artist friends. Barry was still the picture of health at 53. Or so we all thought. Unknown to us, he’d been born with a slight heart defect, and hot day, he was working on the garden out back when he had a stroke. He never recovered.

I was 49. We buried him, and the girls tried to offer to help me by moving back in, but I wouldn’t have any of it. So I found myself alone in that big house. I barely went out, I became distant to my friends. Barry had left me a great deal of money, and the girls as well, but I took no joy in it.

I found myself waking up in the early hours of the morning, frightened and gasping for breath. I wailed and cried. I was going to die. Maybe not now, but soon. I would be gone, nothing left. Hopes, dreams, memories...all gone. Before Barry had died, I’d believed in an afterlife, as he had. Now? I just imagined that this was it. There was nothing else. It was all some cruel joke.

I was afraid to die. My reflection seemed to age before my eyes.

I found myself spending long hours in front of the computer, trying to find some way to stave off death and age. It was all a dead end; special salves, bizarre diets...

Growing young again was firmly in the land of fiction. I actually found a few sites devoted to the idea of people being able to regain their youth, but for the most part, they quickly became too young and helpless. Like what was happening to me now.

Then I found a tiny little snippet about a scientist working on gene therapy.

“Many creatures in nature have no maximum lifespan. They persist through indeterminate growth, and continue to live for very long times. The human body has all the tools it needs to renew itself indefinitely, yet, due to some quirk of evolution, we age and die. But what if the body could be tricked, and given new commands, commands that would cause it to grow young again? I believe this is possible, and I intend to prove it...”

Dr. Alan Corman. Once a respected scientist, he was now considered a crackpot. On a whim, I managed to contact him. He explained that his research was at a standstill, he lacked test subjects and money. I...foolishly...offered him both.

He arrived in a week, with several crates. I gave him the guest room and the basement for a lab. He puttered around for another two weeks, before leading me downstairs. Whatever he did took several hours, I remember being naked under a sheet, and flashing lights. He injected me with...something.

He did this several times, then told me time would tell.

I felt very sick for a few days. One morning I woke up to find my bed and clothes drenched with sticky sweat. I took a long shower, and when I stepped out, I was astonished to face my reflection. My hair had lost it’s grey streaks, my skin looked younger and smoother; I was easily ten years younger!

It was a success, and we celebrated with a dinner of chinese take-out and some vintage wine from the cellar. I started to go out again, and noticed men were looking at me appreciatively.

It was flattering, but for some reason, I felt an odd sensation in the pit of my stomach when I thought about having sex with a man again. Silly fears, I told myself. It would pass.

As time went by, I seemed to grow younger and prettier with each passing day. My brown hair had lightened to a sandy brown by this point. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I should have. As I reached my early thirties, I found myself waking up with my nipples hard and a burning between my legs. I wanted sex so badly!

I hadn’t been this horny in a long time. I tried to stave it off by masturbating, but in the end, I bought a vibrator. Oh how I blushed at the checkout line! But that night, I finally found some release. Sadly, the need came back in a few hours.

I remember when I finally realized something was wrong. I went downstairs wearing nothing but my night gown, having discarded yet another pair of damp panties. I sat in front of my computer and browsed various pages, waiting until I got tired.

I came across the image by accident. It showed a pair of young 20-something women kissing each other. I found myself licking my lips. I soon found a softcore site featuring lesbian girls, and I felt as aroused as a teenaged boy. My fingers reached down and sure enough, my slit was damp.

The next day, I went out to the mall, filled with a need I didn’t understand. My hair had lightened again, and my green eyes were starting to take on a bluish hue. I didn’t care. I was on the right side of thirty, and I didn’t care about that either.

I bought a new outfit, and went to get my hair done. My stylist was a girl barely older than my daughter Lina. The feel of her fingers caressing my scalp was amazing, and without realizing it, I moaned softly.

I blushed and tried to apologize, but she just smiled and asked me what I was doing later.

I couldn’t believe it. I was on a date with a girl not even half my (true) age, and loving every minute of it! Her name was Zoe, and I think I was in love. We had dinner, went dancing, and somehow ended up at her apartment, where I had sex with a woman for the first time. It was...incredible. She knew what I needed, in a way even Barry never had. And waking up in her arms filled a void inside me.

During this time I’d pretty much been ignoring Dr. Corman, leaving him to his own devices. Little did I realize he’d been watching me like a hawk.

A few weeks went by when I woke to find Zoe looking at me oddly. I asked her what was wrong and she just shook her head. “I can’t put my finger on it, baby, but you look different today.”

I assured her it was nothing, but when I got home, I looked in the bathroom mirror. A girl in her mid-twenties looked back at me. I was still getting younger! My hair was now blonde, and my eyes fully blue. I didn’t know this girl at all!

I confronted the Doctor. He explained that his process replaced the subject’s DNA (something I had thought impossible) with that of another person’s. In my case, a younger woman. Bit by bit, I had been transforming into someone else!

He claimed that the donor of the new DNA was “gone now” and I had nothing to worry about. I of course felt that I did have something to worry about! My own daughters wouldn’t recognize me, and worse, my relationship with Zoe was in jeapordy.

He told me not to worry. I was due to stop regressing any day now.

Bastard.

-3-

I woke up soaked in sticky sweat for the second time. Damn it. I shed my night clothes and padded to the bathroom. And nearly fainted at my reflection.

Fingers gripping the sink, I stared wordlessly. I was face to face with a teenaged girl. I guessed myself to be 17. I sank to the floor and lay there for a long time.

Dr. Corman was out, and I had no idea when he’d be back. Zoe called, but I told her I couldn’t see her. She asked me why I sounded so odd, she wanted to know what was wrong. I...I hung up on her and refused to answer.

She came to my house later, and knocked on the door, but I didn’t answer. Just hid in my roon and cried. She was gone to me now.

I had lost several inches in height. This seemed odd to me, since I had reached my full height by the time I was fifteen, surely I wasn’t young enough to start to shrink...unless... Of course. The “donor” girl. She must have been smaller than myself.

When Dr. Corman returned, I screamed at him. He acted surprised and said this was impossible, he’d get to work at once.

And desperate, I believed him.

I found some old clothing of Lina’s to wear; it fit pretty well, and I managed to go outside for a walk. No one would recognize me now, not even Zoe. I had become someone else. I found myself wondering more and more who this donor girl had been.

She was much prettier than I was, although I was starting to get the impression she was also quite petite. I’d always been tall for a woman, it was odd to think that I was going to be so much smaller. I ran my fingers through my blonde hair. It was soft to the touch, and I started to imagine Zoe stroking my hair...

No! I held myself tightly as I tried to block that out. I couldn’t have a relationship with Zoe looking like...this! And then it hit me. When, exactly, had I become a lesbian? The thought of men touching my body was now repugnant. Even my memories of Barry made me shiver slightly. I had heard that sexuality was genetic, but...could it be? Could replacing my DNA with that of a lesbian girl truly alter my sexual preferences? It seemed so ludicrous, but I had no other answer.

I made my way back home and sat in my chair on the back patio. My head was spinning, I couldn’t think....but somehow, I dozed off.

-4-

It was evening when I woke up. I felt very strange. I stood, only to find my clothes hung loose on my body. No! I made my way upstairs. Sure enough, I had shrunk again. I only looked a little younger, perhaps 15 or so. My breasts were smaller now, and my pubic hair was starting to recede. But I’d lost quite a few inches in height. I laughed, but I could hear hysteria in my voice.

As I walked downstairs, I felt a shiver run down my body and there was a momentary wave of vertigo. When it passed, I kept walking, but soon lost a shoe. My socks were loose on my feet, and I felt like a little girl playing dress-up.

I kicked off my shoes and socks. Fine. I’d do without them. Then my skirt started to slide down my smaller hips. I must have looked quite the sight when I finally cornered the Doctor. I yelled and screamed at him, and he just smiled at me. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and I realized how much taller than me he was.

I no longer had any power over him. He humored me, and gave me a physical examination. Every time he touched me, however, my skin crawled. He told me I was approximately 13 years old now, and had shrunk to 4’ 11”.

It was impossible! People don’t shrink! Of course...they don’t get younger, either...

The next morning I was even smaller. I put on an old shirt, and it came to my knees. I looked unbelievably cute, almost adorable.

I asked Doctor Corman to get me some clothes that would fit me. He returned with an outfit that was years out of date, and seemed like something a much younger girl would be dressed up in...if anyone could survive the diabetic shock of how bizzarely cute the result would be.

I refused, and he seemed angry.

I started to avoid him after that. The next day I was too sick to do much of anything. I felt horrible, my skin was on fire. What was happening?

The next morning I knew, as I woke up on the wrong side of puberty. I was very slender now, my arms and legs seemed too long for my body. I had almost no pubic hair, and my breasts were little buds.

Zoe called again. I couldn’t answer.

I tried to write an email, but I couldn’t begin to explain. My heart ached. I took to wearing an old robe that I think belonged to Mary when she was younger. It was still far too big on my body. I guessed my height at 4 and a half feet. And dwindling.

My body kept shrinking, and I no longer cared.

Finally, Dr. Corman went out, and I slipped downstairs into his lab. I found a thick notebook, and scurried upstairs to read it, curled up in a chair. My DNA had come, not from a woman, but a girl! He had intended for me to transform into....whoever I was now. He had sketched me for some time now, and I realized that he was obsessed with me. Frightened, I went down to replace the notebook, but he was there. Waiting. Angry.

“I gave you what you wanted, and I’ve watched as you’ve paraded your perfect, beautiful body in front of me for weeks! I said nothing when you decided to have sex with that whore, because I knew you would come back. You had to! But now, I’m tired of your seduction. I’m going to teach you a lesson, you little slut! Oh I know, I know! How devious you are, an adult mind with that body! I know what you’re thinking to do!”

He reached for me. I tried to back away, but he caught the arm of my robe. I slid out of it, and ran up the stairs, naked.

“No shame at all, shaking your behind at me! When I catch you, I’ll spank that ass until it’s pink!”

But the Doctor was only used to minimal physical effort. I was in excellent shape, and my tiny body seemed to have the agility of a cat. Despite his lumbering stride, I eluded him, and ducked into a secret door in the pantry. He searched for me, I heard crashing noises, but he never found me.

-5-

Shortly after I made my way to the secret room, I felt my body shrink again, leaving me nothing more than a pretty eight year old. I had no reason not to believe I was going to get younger still.

I push the journal away. I can’t write anymore. And then I hear loud noises downstairs.

“You whore, come here for your little slut! I’ll show you!”

Zoe! Something in my mind clicked. I reached into the secret drawer in Barry’s desk. The snub-nosed .38 was still there. I loaded it and made my way downstairs. The gun was heavy, even carrying it in both hands.

Zoe and the Doc were struggling in the living room. She had a baseball bat, but Zoe isn’t a very large girl either, and he pushed her down. He produced a syringe. “Now you’ll share her fate!”

I hadn’t fired a gun in years, and believe me, eight year old arms aren’t meant to lift a gun. But I managed, using two fingers to squeeze the trigger.

I shot twice. Zoe just stared at me. “What...who are you?”

I just sank to my knees and cried. To my shock, I felt her arms around me and she held me until the police came.

-6-

They never found Cynthia Walsh, the woman I’d once been. The police concluded that the Doc had killed her with his crazy experiments, and disposed of the body. I was just some girl he’d kidnapped. I was able to feign shock, and their efforts to find out who I was turned up nothing.

I guess I was going to be put in an orphanage. I knew my daughters would be very sad, and I wish I could do something for them...but what could I do? Nothing.

Then Zoe came to see me. She was giving me an odd look.

I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Cyn...is that really you?” She held up the journal.

I bit my lower lip. “That...would be impossible.” I looked away.

I felt her arms around me. “Please, just tell me.”

I sighed. “Yes. It’s me. I’m sorry.”

She cried then, and told me it was all right. Somehow. Zoe’s a bright girl. She’d been pretty vague when the police asked her why she’d broken into my house. She’d claimed I was a “good friend”, but they were skeptical given our “age difference”.

When told that I was nearly 50, she realized something was up. Especially when she met my daughters. “I asked about the gun, and your youngest, Lina, mentioned the secret room. I snuck in later that night and found the journal. I couldn’t believe it was true, but....somehow I knew it had to be. Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

I looked into her hazel eyes. “I guess I should have. I just...everything was so wonderful, and how could I say that I’m really twice your age? And then, when I started to get too young...”

She hugged me again. “I guess I wouldn’t have believed it at first. But honey, please, never lie to me again.”

I happily made that promise. “But what happens now? I’m nobody, Jane Doe, and far too young for you.”

“I guess...I’ll have to adopt you.”

-7-

And that’s how I became Jane Carter. Adopted by my girlfriend, how weird. My girls took a liking to Zoe, and let her live in the house. Lina lived in Europe now, and Mary felt that the place had too many ghosts. Little did she know I was one of them! Zoe found some more of Doc’s notebooks, and we hope to one day find a cure. You see, I’m not growing. For all intents and purposes, I’m stuck as a kid.

Doc Corman’s notes lead us to believe the DNA he used was that of a previous ’test subject’. Some woman he turned into a kid. No telling what happened to her. I guess that means that one day, I might run into a girl who looks exactly like me. Though chances are, she’ll have the mind of a child. I was lucky there.

The shadow of our relationship hangs over our new life together. We’d been intimate, once, and both of us miss that a great deal. I’d often curl up in Zoe’s lap, and she’ll hold me. And it’s nice. But it’s like there’s a barrier between us. We want more, but just can’t bring ourselves to go through with it. It’s maddening. I want to kiss those lips, touch those breasts, show her how much I love her...

But I can’t. Because I’m a child and she’s a woman. God help us.

-Epilogue-

Today, Zoe turned 30. I’m pretty much the same. In the years since she adopted me, I’ve only grown a tiny bit, and I can pass for nine. Barely. It’s hurt to see her get older, forced to take care of me, the eternal child.

We’ve got a place of our own now, out in the country. We’d had to move constantly since I’m not going to grow up any time soon. We can grow our own food, and keep a few livestock. So we can live on our own for a very long time.

She’s been distant these past few days. I wonder if she regrets choosing me over what her life could have been. Then she comes into the room and I turn...and realize something is different about her.

Her hair is lighter, and her hazel eyes have a bluish tint to them.

“Zoe...what have you done!?”

She grins at me. “Injected myself with a healthy dose of your DNA, honey. I’ve wanted to do it for years, but I had to wait until I knew we could survive on our own.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, but slowly a smile grew on my face. Soon, we would truly be together again.

“Come here and kiss me, you silly bitch!”

She laughed and did just that.

-End-

 


 

End Chapter 1

Too Much of a Good Thing

by: MidnightDragon | Complete Story | Last updated Feb 11, 2010

Reviews/Comments

To comment, Join the Archive or Login to your Account

The AR Story Archive

Stories of Age/Time Transformation

Contact Us