Chastity - new story from Ark
May 22, 2020 20:37:25 GMT -6
niddlyby43, VioletJames, and 3 more like this
Post by ark on May 22, 2020 20:37:25 GMT -6
Hi all! So here is a story I wrote ageees ago, but never posted as I planned to expand it and sort of lost inspiration. Spotted it in my files today and thought it deserved to see the light of day. Short but sweet middle-aged AP.
Chastity
By Ark
“You are NOT leaving the house looking like that young lady!” Chastity’s dad screamed at her – freezing the 17-year-old dead in the hallway, hand inches from the door handle.
“What?” she asked back incredulously, “What’s wrong with this?” she gestured to her outfit – a low cut white tank top and undeniably scandalous denim hot pants.
“No daughter of mine is leaving the house dressed like an off-brand hooters girl. I know what boys your age are like – and I’m not having your parade yourself like a hunk of meat in front of those animals”
“Oh Dadddd”
“Don’t oh Dad me.”
“You’re not the boss of me, I’m nearly 18 – I can wear whatever I want.” In a few short months, she’d be in college and away from the claustrophobic clutches of her parents. Chastity couldn’t wait.
“My house, my rules. You’re not 18 yet, and until you are, you’ll listen to your father!”
“I’m going out Dad, and I’m wearing whatever I like - you can’t stop me,” she said defiantly, lifting her chin and opening the door.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, Chastity – but you’ve left me no choice.” Her dad produced a small remote from his pocket, pointed it as his daughter and clicked it.
Chastity was suddenly struck breathless, winded by some unseen force. Her whole body felt suddenly heavy and tired – she staggered slightly and leaned against the door.
“Still want to go out dressed like that? Maybe you might want to dress a bit more modestly now? A bit more – adult?”
“What are you talking about? Why do I feel so shit? Why...” Chastity glanced up at her reflection in the hallway mirror and was winded all over again. “Gahhh!” she gasped at an alien reflection. Bags under her eyes, a softer jawline, and creases across her face. She barely recognised herself, but it was undeniably her – but older.
She grasped down at her body, and let out another despairing gasp. Her exposed midriff pooched out over her now too-tight shorts, her braless cleavage sagged sadly, and her thighs were marred with lumps and blemishes.
“What have you done to me!” Chastity exclaimed, prodding at her new bulges.
“Well you were in such a hurry to grow up, I’ve just moved things along by 20 years or so.”
“Oh god – I’m nearly forty!”
“39 to be precise. Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. You’ll be young again tomorrow. But if you’re still insistent about going out today, you might want to choose a more age appropriate outfit.”
Fury bubbled up in Chastity, and she was suddenly determined to go out anyway -her dad and her tired face be damned. But as she turned to slam the door, she caught sight of her ass – drooping sadly beneath her shorts – diligent teenage squats seemingly forgotten. She thought of her friends, and her boyfriend, seeing her like this – as mutton dressed as lamb - and her confidence vanished. She closed the front door, and stormed upstairs, shocked that only a dozen stairs left her slightly out of breath.
She slammed her bedroom door and pulled off her hot pants - with great difficulty as they were now several sizes to small – threw her revealing crop top off and stared at her mostly nude middle-aged reflection.
“What the actual fuck is this?” she exclaimed in total disbelief. Compared to the lithe 17-year-old reflection she was used to, her body was now a total train wreck. Her breasts – previously fabulously perky c-cups – had been melted by “time” and gravity into slightly droopy teardrops - pale imitations of their former glory. Her tight waist and concave stomach had acquired a distinct bulge – a little muffin top poking over her youthful panties – wrecking her tight figure. She poked and prodded at the soft alien flesh, trying to such it in, but it was no use. Perhaps most noticeably – her hips had expanded and softened, giving her a distinct bottom-heavy look.
She twisted around to check out her ass. While it still had a respectable curve to it, there was now a undeniable sag, and has spread in every direction. This morning – she could have bounced quarters off her buns, but now any currency thrown it’s way would get a soft and yielding embrace. Her ass and thighs blended together – blighted by cellulite that shifted and changed as she rocked too and fro on her heels, but she couldn’t make it vanish no matter how she arched her back.
She inspected her new face. It screamed one word to her – “tired". As well as the obvious bags under her eyes and the looser skin, there were a smattering of fine lines around her eyes and across her forehead. “At what point do lines become wrinkles?” she pondered aloud – a distinction that had never crossed her youthful mind, but now was a pressing concern. She fluffed up her blonde hair, which was noticeably duller in tone, and a comparatively limp and scraggly. “Worst hair day of my life...” she grumbled.
She tried to think rationally about it. She didn’t look that bad – for her age. She wasn’t fat – just carrying a few more pounds that ideal, and she didn’t look haggard – just mature and a bit frayed round the edges. Compared to the 17-year-old, athletic perky beauty she’d been when she’d picked out her seductive outfit – she looked terrible, but she didn’t look too bad for her age. “For my age...” she shuddered, what a ridiculous think to be thinking. Still – she could rest assured that at least she looked a bit like some of the younger, sexier teachers at her high school that the MILF chasing boys in her classes drooled after.
Could she really go out looking like this though? The girls she hung around with mock each other relentlessly for a bad haircut – never mind saggy boobs. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Her Dad’s cruel trick had worked – she couldn’t be seen like this even if she wore a more chaste outfit.
She sat down on her bed to check her phone, noticing with disgust how her new stomach pooch folded over into rolls of flesh. Her phone was full of messages from her friends and Adam, her boyfriend. “Where are you?”, “What time are you getting here?” “Where are you babe? Xx”
But one message filled her with dread. “Babe – Crystal is here in that slutty top and is ALL OVER Adam! You need to get here ASAP – bring your A game and show that bitch who’s boss.”
Crystal – that skanky bitch. Any other day Chastity would be there in a heartbeat and beat upstage her, but her “A game” was in tatters. She lifted up her heavy, slightly weathered breasts to drive home the point. Her middle-aged spread was effectively a wheel clamp on the Ferrari of her sex appeal.
But she’d be dammed if she let Crystal steal her man without a fight. She stood up and opened her wardrobe – determined to find an outfit that would salvage the situation and get her to that party...
Chastity
By Ark
“You are NOT leaving the house looking like that young lady!” Chastity’s dad screamed at her – freezing the 17-year-old dead in the hallway, hand inches from the door handle.
“What?” she asked back incredulously, “What’s wrong with this?” she gestured to her outfit – a low cut white tank top and undeniably scandalous denim hot pants.
“No daughter of mine is leaving the house dressed like an off-brand hooters girl. I know what boys your age are like – and I’m not having your parade yourself like a hunk of meat in front of those animals”
“Oh Dadddd”
“Don’t oh Dad me.”
“You’re not the boss of me, I’m nearly 18 – I can wear whatever I want.” In a few short months, she’d be in college and away from the claustrophobic clutches of her parents. Chastity couldn’t wait.
“My house, my rules. You’re not 18 yet, and until you are, you’ll listen to your father!”
“I’m going out Dad, and I’m wearing whatever I like - you can’t stop me,” she said defiantly, lifting her chin and opening the door.
“I didn’t want to have to do this, Chastity – but you’ve left me no choice.” Her dad produced a small remote from his pocket, pointed it as his daughter and clicked it.
Chastity was suddenly struck breathless, winded by some unseen force. Her whole body felt suddenly heavy and tired – she staggered slightly and leaned against the door.
“Still want to go out dressed like that? Maybe you might want to dress a bit more modestly now? A bit more – adult?”
“What are you talking about? Why do I feel so shit? Why...” Chastity glanced up at her reflection in the hallway mirror and was winded all over again. “Gahhh!” she gasped at an alien reflection. Bags under her eyes, a softer jawline, and creases across her face. She barely recognised herself, but it was undeniably her – but older.
She grasped down at her body, and let out another despairing gasp. Her exposed midriff pooched out over her now too-tight shorts, her braless cleavage sagged sadly, and her thighs were marred with lumps and blemishes.
“What have you done to me!” Chastity exclaimed, prodding at her new bulges.
“Well you were in such a hurry to grow up, I’ve just moved things along by 20 years or so.”
“Oh god – I’m nearly forty!”
“39 to be precise. Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. You’ll be young again tomorrow. But if you’re still insistent about going out today, you might want to choose a more age appropriate outfit.”
Fury bubbled up in Chastity, and she was suddenly determined to go out anyway -her dad and her tired face be damned. But as she turned to slam the door, she caught sight of her ass – drooping sadly beneath her shorts – diligent teenage squats seemingly forgotten. She thought of her friends, and her boyfriend, seeing her like this – as mutton dressed as lamb - and her confidence vanished. She closed the front door, and stormed upstairs, shocked that only a dozen stairs left her slightly out of breath.
She slammed her bedroom door and pulled off her hot pants - with great difficulty as they were now several sizes to small – threw her revealing crop top off and stared at her mostly nude middle-aged reflection.
“What the actual fuck is this?” she exclaimed in total disbelief. Compared to the lithe 17-year-old reflection she was used to, her body was now a total train wreck. Her breasts – previously fabulously perky c-cups – had been melted by “time” and gravity into slightly droopy teardrops - pale imitations of their former glory. Her tight waist and concave stomach had acquired a distinct bulge – a little muffin top poking over her youthful panties – wrecking her tight figure. She poked and prodded at the soft alien flesh, trying to such it in, but it was no use. Perhaps most noticeably – her hips had expanded and softened, giving her a distinct bottom-heavy look.
She twisted around to check out her ass. While it still had a respectable curve to it, there was now a undeniable sag, and has spread in every direction. This morning – she could have bounced quarters off her buns, but now any currency thrown it’s way would get a soft and yielding embrace. Her ass and thighs blended together – blighted by cellulite that shifted and changed as she rocked too and fro on her heels, but she couldn’t make it vanish no matter how she arched her back.
She inspected her new face. It screamed one word to her – “tired". As well as the obvious bags under her eyes and the looser skin, there were a smattering of fine lines around her eyes and across her forehead. “At what point do lines become wrinkles?” she pondered aloud – a distinction that had never crossed her youthful mind, but now was a pressing concern. She fluffed up her blonde hair, which was noticeably duller in tone, and a comparatively limp and scraggly. “Worst hair day of my life...” she grumbled.
She tried to think rationally about it. She didn’t look that bad – for her age. She wasn’t fat – just carrying a few more pounds that ideal, and she didn’t look haggard – just mature and a bit frayed round the edges. Compared to the 17-year-old, athletic perky beauty she’d been when she’d picked out her seductive outfit – she looked terrible, but she didn’t look too bad for her age. “For my age...” she shuddered, what a ridiculous think to be thinking. Still – she could rest assured that at least she looked a bit like some of the younger, sexier teachers at her high school that the MILF chasing boys in her classes drooled after.
Could she really go out looking like this though? The girls she hung around with mock each other relentlessly for a bad haircut – never mind saggy boobs. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Her Dad’s cruel trick had worked – she couldn’t be seen like this even if she wore a more chaste outfit.
She sat down on her bed to check her phone, noticing with disgust how her new stomach pooch folded over into rolls of flesh. Her phone was full of messages from her friends and Adam, her boyfriend. “Where are you?”, “What time are you getting here?” “Where are you babe? Xx”
But one message filled her with dread. “Babe – Crystal is here in that slutty top and is ALL OVER Adam! You need to get here ASAP – bring your A game and show that bitch who’s boss.”
Crystal – that skanky bitch. Any other day Chastity would be there in a heartbeat and beat upstage her, but her “A game” was in tatters. She lifted up her heavy, slightly weathered breasts to drive home the point. Her middle-aged spread was effectively a wheel clamp on the Ferrari of her sex appeal.
But she’d be dammed if she let Crystal steal her man without a fight. She stood up and opened her wardrobe – determined to find an outfit that would salvage the situation and get her to that party...