Tick, tock

Chapter 1
The Clock Ticks bye.

Chapter Description: Not all characters are oblivious to you readers.

Tick, Tock, tick, tock. Goes the little clock, again and again. Never stopping in it’s eternal movement. I sit there messmerised by it’s constant sound. My name is Sophie, a 25 year old college graduate. At my height of 5ft 10in It’s always easy to relax in my chairs for they always seemed just right. I move my hands from my long and perfect legs to rest in a follded position underneath my round and perky 34DD breasts. If the description of my body wasn’t clear enough, I am very happy with my body. I then stand up, finished thinking all about my physical description, a description that you readers only get a fraction of. I procceed to walk over to the small clock on my wall and examine it. It’s a small and simple wall clock, circular with simble black markings on a white backround with a plain blain border. Nothing at all special in any way. Also definetly has no importance to this story in anyway. Yea, not all titles are important! But that’s it, nothing special in this story, not gonna fall for the trick of lifting the clock off the wall and then begining the main attraction of the story and the reason why you’re all here reading this. So, no! I refuse to be your simple little pleasure. Go!  Leave! Good bye! There’s nothing left, The End....

Why is this still happening, what am I missing? How do I end the tale? Don’t tell me I have to initiate the transformation! Well if that is the case then you all will be here for a long time. Cause there is NO way i’m going back to being a child. Uh Uh, No way.....Wait. What’s going on? Why is my body moving on it’s own! No, no, no, NO! Not the clock! Anything but that! Oh, no. It’s too late. My hands already did it. Great, NOW I get control back o my body. AFTER the transformation is already initiated. I can already feel myself shrinking! I rush to a mirror to watch the changes take place. After a couple of minutes I gazed into my full length mirror to witness the beginning of the end. I could already tell that I lost a few years since it began since I already was looking like I was 22 and even that was a rough estimate in the upward direction. I at least knew I wasn’t younger then 19 yet since that’s when I had a decent growth spurt that got me to my "golden" height from my old height of 5ft 7in. My heart sank as a feeling of vertigo passed over me. I instantly shut my eyes fearing what I would see. After the feeling passed I slowly opened my eyes and gazed upon myself. During that quick time I had lost 4ish years, making me around 18. I began to survey my slightly dwindled form in sadness. I immediately caught sight of my face, which had lost some angles making it seem slightly more childish. I lowered my gaze to see that my curves had shrank slightly. Not a whole lot, but enough for me to notice a hood change. My beautiful breasts had risen some to go from 34DD’s to more like 34D’s. My butt definitely had lost some mass, and I noticed I had indeed lost my growth spurt from my 19th year making my height 5’7". I knew it was far from over, especially saying that during that description I lost a good year or two. My clothes, which were composed of form fitting tights and a long sleeve shirt. Now though, the tights were definitely lose, the ends had started to pool slightly at my feet and the waistband had fallen slightly past my hips but nowhere near falling, yet. My shirt was also definetly loser, the sleeves now go up to my palm and it’s neck hole definitely felt a tad bit more roomy. My underwear was also feeling a tad bit lose. Not a huge amount but enough to be noticeable.  I knew there was no way to stop this transformation since it was the point of my existence in the first place. I accepted the inevitable and decided to enjoy this process since I was a AR fanatic myself. I observed as my form continued to dwindle. My breasts kept getting smaller and smaller. My face slowly grew more baby fat. Then again  my curves also shrank so it wasn’t too awkward. Though loosing my precious height little by little was had for me. By this point I was already 15 and dropping. My breasts sat at a good 32C, still a decent size for my age. But I knew I grew almost all of that in a very short amount of time since I was a late bloomer. My curves and butt still had the looks of an average 17 year old. But that wasn’t going to last long. As soon as I went past 13 it would all be gone. The butt, curves, boobs, all of it. Wait, did I just say boob? I called my boobs, boobs? Wait! I did it again! Am I losing some maturity too? Cause that would, like suck and be terrible. Oh wait, did you guys fall for that? Yea,  haha! You did! I’m not really mentally regressing.  But I am physically,  and seeking of 13 here comes that age soon. I’m already passing 14. I started to drop like a rock, my height going from 5’4" to 4’8" in the matter of a few seconds. Feeling this drop in height my pants decided to take a fall and drag my panties with them. I sighed know all of my womanly traits were next. Knowing this I slipped off my shirt and removed my way too big bra. I stood there staring at my short yet strangely still sexy form knowing it was about to happen.  Almost as soon as I thought that it began, my loss of puberty. Quickly all curves began to dwindle.  Along with them my ass deflated like a sad and sexy balloon.  Leaving me with a little butt that looked like it belonged on a child, not a physically 13 year old.  Shortly after most of the curves were gone  by beautiful breath that were currently at a healthy C cup began to shrink. I gingerly cupped them in my hands knowing that this story would never let me have them again. Soon they were past B’s and we’re shrinking even more. Very quickly, as I approached the age of 11, my breasts became to small to hold so I just wrapped my bare arms around my chest relishing the feeling of them resisting the pressure. But even as I was enjoying that fact I could feel the feeling getting weaker till there was no more. It wa then I uncurled my arms from around me and stared down at my flat 12 year old chest. I walked over to the couch, knowing not much more would happen, and curled up on the increasingly growing couch and drifted off to sleep at the age of 5. The process had stopped and it allowed me to sleep as peaceful as a baby.

THE END

-for reals this time.