Chapter Description: "When they start recitin' the Constitution, watch out!"
Mrs. Jones found herself on the doorstep of Natasha’s office, unable to go any further. The need for physical contact and to be loved outweighed her reason and got her this far.
Her reason was the only thing pulling her back, she didn’t need any shortcuts, she would work out her husband’s indifference with the patience of time and wisdom. 50 years was a long time to be in a relationship, surely it’d only take a year or two before she could find a new life and maybe even the love she so craved.
Natasha’s door opened and she saw the sheer beauty of the man in front of her. His perfection radiated a mind-numbing wave that a tiny voice deep inside of her responded to with bestial ferocity. “YES! I WANT THAT!” it said. She entered the office with her reason fully tamped down.
After seating her with a calming cup of tea, Natasha addressed the matter at hand.
“Let me just say that I’m certain that you wish to end your relationship with your husband, and would like to get a fresh start on life. Am I correct?”
“Yes, I’d say that’s about the gist of it, but there’s so much more!” she said with a twinge of lust making her voice quiver just the slightest.
“I’d like to get some form of revenge on him for mistreating me so badly. I want him to feel the helplessness that he put me in for nearly 30 years! I want him to suffer indifference and pain and not be held responsible for it in any way”. The lust rising in her loins sent waves of heat through her entire body. How was it possible that these thoughts would raise such perversity in her heart?
“That’s it? What else do you desire, my dear? I can offer you more on starting your life over if you’re interested”. She looked at Natasha in earnest and skeptically motioned him to go on, “my goodness! It feels like I’m wetting my panties! I haven’t felt this way for over 25 years!” she thought. It was taking all her strength to not strip down and start rubbing her clitoris right then and there.
Natasha ignored the spectacle in front of him, made a mental note to have the chair’s upholstery steam cleaned after she left, and proceeded to explain the extra benefits his contract offered.
“I can offer you a new body, my dear. A beautiful young body with voluptuous breasts that complement an hourglass figure that no man, (and certain women), can ignore and must lust after. Think of all the marriages you’ll destroy with such a body as your weapon!”
Mrs. Jones, no, Cynthia Jones, she was her own person, after all, came in a heated rush, lit a pretend cigarette, she had quit years before, and exhaled steam while lounging back in the chair with a smile of total satisfaction on her face. It hadn’t felt that good, ever! Now that she’d worked some of the steam from her system, sensibility started taking over.
“I wouldn’t want it to be that bad, you’d have to dial back on the pheromones just enough to make me intriguing enough to engage in conversation and then be hooked on my looks” she responded.
A little voice in the back of her head muttered something like “It’s madness to turn back the clock” yet another said “Impossible!” while the tamped down rationality sulked in a dark corner, arms crossed, feeling dejected and stuck its tongue out.
“Good, Good. We’re making progress. Now as to your husband, might I suggest we do the same youthening process to him, except we take him back to a toddler’s age? Think of the possibilities for tort-, um, revenge you could have before handing him over to an orphanage afterward?” suggested Natasha.
Cynthia Jones thought about it. The primal perversion of lust that she had felt earlier threatened to rear its ugly head once more so she pulled reason out of its sulking corner and had a small conference.
“How about I get the ability to control his age, take it up or down to further confuse and mess with his mind?” Cynthia Jones was getting into the spirit of malice now, the corruption of her soul though slight, was just beginning.
“Right then, revenge on husband using age control, check. A young, desirable body with an engaging personality, check. Anything else?” asked Natasha.
“We-l-l-l, would you be interested in dating me?” she asked while looking at Natasha “I mean we could do it once or twice and see how it…” her voice trailed off into silence as she wasn’t getting any palpable feedback from Natasha.
Natasha eyed Cynthia with a very serious look. One might compare that stare to a bug under a microscope by a dry entomologist with an ice-cold heart. Then said: “Only if I get to pick the body type, my dear! I might have to adjust a thing or two here and there to my liking along the way, of course! Do we have a deal?”
50-year-old Cynthia Jones, her rationality tamped down once again, with a heart fluttering in her chest at the merest thought of being able to make love with such a perfect being and maybe, just maybe, be loved back?
“Yes.” was all she said.
Stories of Age/Time Transformation