Post by kingfaraday on Jul 3, 2020 9:31:34 GMT -6
The Test of Time
Written by Ark, 2014
"Well, that's a nice problem to have Miss Sanderson. But I see your dilemma, and I think we may be able to offer you just the solution you're looking for."
The Witch Doctor looked over at her potential client and flashed her most convincing saleswoman simile. Ellie Sanderson truly was a very beautiful woman; it was easy to see how she had got herself into a situation such as this.
"So how can I tell which one is right for me?" Ellie asked, absently tossing her chestnut curls over her shoulder. She wore a clingy summer dress that showed the outline of her nubile young figure. Large firm breasts sat high, defying gravity with every soft exhale of her chest, and her long supple legs were crossed, showing envious quantities of smooth flesh.
Ellie had come here because The Witch Doctor had a reputation. A reputation for dealing with problems in...unusual ways. Especially problems involving men.
"Well, choosing which man to love is a hard choice. Only you can decide that. But I think I can help you find which of your two prince charmings love you more." Ellie had come here with a first world problem; she was torn between two handsome successful men. It wasn't hard to see how she had attracted such catches with her fresh face and sultry body. She was a sweet girl to boot, who was loathed to hurt either prince. But The Witch Doctor had a plan to help her. "You are worried they might only love you for your looks?"
The lithe woman nodded gently. The Witch understood Ellie's fears. She had never been as beautiful as this young flower herself, but she knew how cruel men could be once a girl lost her youthful glow.
"I propose we test them. We show them what you will look like in the future, and see if they still see your inner beauty when your window dressing has faded."
Ellie looked shocked. "You mean to age me?" Her voice was apprehensive. "You can do that?"
The Witch nodded.
"It wouldn't be permanent, would it?" Ellie wasn't overly vain, but no 22 year old wants to lose their beauty.
"No, I can return your years once you have tested your boys. I'll only take a decade, that way they won't suspect the supernatural. They will just assume you've, um, let yourself go a bit." Ellie visibly winced at the thought, but after a moment she seemed to come around to the idea.
"Ok." She said. "Let's do this."
The Witch Doctor led Ellie through to the work room; a whitewashed chamber with three huge mirrors cover three of the four walls. The Witch Doctor tried not to look at their reflections, comparing Ellie’s beauty to her own middle aged visage would only make her feel old. She adjusted her elasticated waistband with a wistful frown on her lips.
“So how does it work?” The comely 22 year old asked as they approached the dentists-style chair in the centre of the room. The Witch Doctor gestured, and Ellie took her seat, swinging her supple legs up and round, kicking off her high heels to leave her dainty feet bare. Ellie was afraid, maybe this was a bad idea after all?
“Well, I'll use this.” The Witch Doctor produced an empty ornate syringe from her coat pocket. “It will pull out ten years of your youth, you’ll age instantly. Your body will be weathered as if the next ten years had been lived with the same routine you've been doing for the last week. The same diet, exercise etc.”
Ellie was starting to regret that tub of ice cream she had eaten last night while obsessing over whether or not to come to see this mysterious woman. “At least I don’t smoke.” she whispered “I use wrinkle cream as well, and moisturiser.”
The Witch Doctor laughed at Ellie’s nervous remarks. “Wrinkle cream? Bit young for that aren't you? Well you are about to find out if it worked.” Ellie leaned back and The Witch Doctor leaned over her, syringe glinting in the fluorescent light. “Once it’s done, I'll leave you be for a bit so you can inspect the damage. Don’t freak out or anything though, it’s only temporary remember?” She tried to sooth her petite young patient, running her hand through Ellie’s luxuriant hair. The Witch Doctor almost felt bad that she was about sully this vision of loveliness, she felt sorry for whichever of the two young men failed this unusual test. “Are you ready?”
Ellie nodded hurriedly. She felt anything but ready.
The Witch Doctor slid in the needle with the painless care of a seasoned professional. Slowly she pulled the plunger out. The chamber filled with a soft amber liquid. Ellie’s essence. And with that, Ellie was a 32 year old woman.
The Witch Doctor gave the now full syringe a flick. "It's done." She told Ellie. "That wasn't so bad was it? I'll go wait outside, have a look at yourself in the mirrors. See what a decade can do to beauty". And then Ellie was alone
She sat there for a bit, dreading her reflection., then finally stood up. She pulled off her summer dress and slipped off her black lace panties, all with her eyes closed. She wasn't wearing a bra today, her pert breasts hadn't needed one this morning. She wondered if they would do now. The thought made her feel nauseous.
Barefoot she walked towards the mirrors, eyes still firmly closed. Had she really just be aged into her thirties by a modern day Witch Doctor? Maybe this was just all a scam? Finally she found the courage to open her eyes.
"Oh no," She whispered, bringing her hand up to her face. Her noticeably older face. There were dark bags under her eyes where before there had been smooth skin. The shadows were punctuated by thin lines that gave her a face a tired look that it had never had before. Complementing her new eye bags were faint crow’s feet branching out from each corner. Ellie noticed in disappointment that her brow was creased with faint furrows. A number 11 had formed between her eyebrows, and to her horror the lines were uneven, spoiling the previously perfect symmetry of her face. “Better stop scowling so much,” she whispered aloud. She had laugh lines as well, snaking down from her nose to her mouth, outlining her now puffier cheeks. “Better stop smiling too. Maybe I should stop making facial expressions all together.”
Ellie was shocked at how much older her face looked. Sure, these were only fine lines, and she was still a good looking woman. But she didn’t look fresh faced anymore. The realisation that she only had ten years of youthful beauty left, ten years before this was the tired reflection that looked back at her every day, was sobering.
Moving on sombrely she assessed her hair. Her lazy ringlets seemed a little less lively, a little less shiny maybe, but otherwise it still looked good. Ellie was quite happy with that, fluffing it up with her fingers. Happy that was, until she spotted the grey. “You have to be kidding me,” she exclaimed, eyes fixed on the solitary coarse hair. Grey at 32? No way. She was still a young woman in the grand scheme of things. Wasn't she? Ellie thought back to times she had spotted stray greys on other women, how she had instantly written them off as old women. This single strand was more damaging that all the creases on her face combined. She thought about plucking it, just for a moment her vanity taking over, but she remembered why she was doing all this. She needed to test her boys. If they wouldn’t still love her with one grey hair, they would never love her at 40 when she had dozens. Or maybe hundreds at this rate. With a weary sigh she left the insolent strand be, and instead worried about how she could prevent greying when she naturally reached her thirties.
In her worrying, she had almost forgotten all about her rest of her body. Given the state of her face and hair, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but better to get it over with she supposed. She wasn’t getting any younger after all.
The first thing she noticed was her weight. She had only gained about 10-15 pounds, which was relief, but it still had a noticeable effect. Everything seemed looser, and her figure was less defined. Her skin also had lost its glow, minor blemishes where they did not belong made her naked form look, well, older.
Her C cup breasts were still the same size, but had developed the subtlest of droops. They now were now slightly tear drop shaped rather that the gravity defying grapefruits they normally were. Even this slight decline mortified Ellie. She cupped them in her hands and felt their weight, noticing a new softness in place of the firm flesh she was used to. Ellie lamented the thought of not being able to go bra-less on whim anymore, and wondered if these saggy boobs would even hold up the summer dress she had worn today. Would her boyfriends judge her for having an aging chest? Would they be as repulsed as Ellie herself was? That was the whole point of this she supposed, but still the thought of rejection made her sick to her stomach.
Ellie moved her hands down to her midriff. It looked like the same flat surface she was used to. Or did it? She pushed her fingers in, and noticed some give in the flesh that was new and unwelcome. On closer inspection, there was now a slight doughy bulge spoiling her figure, and the smallest beginnings of love handles above her hips. A pending spare tyre. Ellie pinched an inch of flesh with a frown on her newly lined forehead. She wasn't used to having excess fat anywhere on her taut body, and seeing these first ripples of a middle aged spread filled her with the urge to hit the gym and give up carbs.
Her hips were also looking less sleek and more soft, but it was her thighs that caught her eye next. They were noticeably bigger, softer and less appealingly shaped. Ellie was shocked. Her legs were her best feature! Or at least they had been. Now her chubby thighs made her seem bottom heavy, and made her look shorter. She gave her left thigh a derogatory jiggle. The rest of her legs looked ok she supposed, her knees looked a bit knobblier, her calves maybe a little less shapely, but nothing major. Her slender ankles and cute feet were still their seductive selves. Although, on closer inspection her little toes were squashed and calloused unappealingly. The result of over a decade of wearing constricting high heels no doubt. Ellie would have to be careful about that when she aged for real, unless she wanted deformed feet like her mothers.
She twisted round to view herself from behind. "Urghhhhh". She exclaimed at the sight of her once pert ass. Some of the pounds that had attached themselves to her thighs had also made a home for themselves on her bum. She shifted her balance slightly and gasped at the slight wobble it had acquired. It was bigger, only a bit bigger she supposed, but the extra weight had really spoiled its shape. Previously high, firm and round, Ellies derriere was now had a bit of a droopy appearance. At 22, cellulite had been a distant nightmare, but at 32 here it was, bubbling softly on the underside of her arse and corrupting the tops of her once tight hamstrings (which looked much worse from behind). Ellie was depressed by this newest flaw, it really made her body look and feel like a middle aged woman's. She was no longer walking around as a lithe young thing, but was instead a fading beauty with her best days behind her.
Viewing herself side on, the changes to her figure was more obvious. Ellie could see the droop of her boobs, the newly acquired pooch of a belly, and the soft slope rather than a firm curve that was now her ass.
Ellie was mortified to see how ten years had taken the shine off her looks. Most of the changes were minor on their own (except the cellulite, which Ellie though was pretty devastating), but combined they made her look very ordinary. The thickening of her narrow waist combined with her more wobbly curves had done a number on her tight figure; she was now less knock-out and more knocked-out. The lines on her face made her look worn out even from a distance. Ellie tried to come to terms with the fact that this was her future, in ten years’ time this nightmare would be a reality.
Ellie had somehow assumed she would age better than this. She had naively imagined herself staying gorgeous into her 40s. Sure, it wasn’t like she was hideous at 32 or anything. She was still a handsome woman, relatively slim with a good bust and a (comparatively) shapely figure. Her face was still naturally pretty, even if it had a few lines. But without her youthful glow her looks didn’t even compare to her perfect 22 year old self. She was now a woman that looked good for her age, rather than just looking good. The thought made Ellie feel a bit sick as she worried about the effect this would have on her life.
She would have to get used to competing with younger woman. It had been a rare thing for Ellie to be in a room with anyone who could rival her smouldering good looks before today, but now every fresh faced 20 something would put her to shame. How would she feel in restaurants where her date would be stealing glances as nubile young waitresses rather than looking at her? She would have to suck in her little belly bulge whenever a camera was pointed in her direction. And Bikinis would be permanently off the menu. She felt a wave of sadness at the thought of all her designer swimsuits being retired, to be replaced by bulge concealing one-pieces and cottage cheese hiding sarongs.
And sex! Oh god, how was she supposed to have sex looking like this? All her youthful lingerie would seem ridiculous surrounded by flab and dimpled flesh. She would have to replace the frilly stuff with shape-wear to restore her figure, and there was no way she was being seen dead in anything beige and elasticated. She resolved that Sex would have to be a strictly lights off affair from now on. Assuming anyone would even want to sleep with her in this aged body. Which, she reminded herself again, was the point of all this. She needed to know for sure if her would-be husbands would still want her without her beauty. She needed to know which man was right for her.
But what if they both failed, she thought with sudden dread. What if they both rejected her now she was wilting? She wasn’t sure she could even blame them if they did, as she examined the network of fine lines around her bright eyes. Would she want them if they had beer belly’s and receding hairlines? She liked to think she wouldn’t care what they looked like. But maybe she was being unfair asking them to accept her less attractive future self while they were both still young and toned. It would be a different story if they grew old and imperfect together naturally. Maybe this was a terrible idea, and she should just get The Witch Doctor to restore her youth right here and now.
But no. That was just her vanity talking, revolting against the saggy, wrinkly reflection in front of her. She needed to see this through, she needed to know that it wasn’t just lust they felt for her. She needed to know she was more than just a pretty face and an hourglass figure to them. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about the shift of sand down the hourglass in the meantime.
She turned away from the mirror and walked back towards her clothes, sparing one last glance over her shoulder at her looser ass. She winced as she watched it jiggle as she swayed. How had her body let itself go like this! She had been a perfect 10 of curvy gorgeousness when she had gotten out of bed this morning, could ten years really take all that away and leave her a plain faced woman battling the bulge?
And this was what her body looked like assuming she kept going to the gym three times a week and (last night’s tub of ice cream notwithstanding) eating healthily. She would no doubt be fatter in her thirties if she got lax in her regime, and she would probably have more grey hairs if her job got more stressful. And children! If this was how bad she looked without ever having kids, what would a pregnancy or two do to her figure? She would have stretch marks, baby weight and an even fatter ass no doubt. How saggy would her lovely breasts (dropping only slightly now, but still alluring in a more mature way) be after a couple of children had inflated and deflated them? She would look a hell of a lot worse than she did right now, and that was a really depressing thought.
If her boys didn’t fancy her in this body, which in all likelihood was the best case scenario version of her 32 year old self, then Ellie was going to cry.
She manoeuvred her black lace underwear back up her legs, encountering some serious resistance around her chubbier thighs. She grunted and squirmed and wiggled, cursing under her breath, and then finally squeezed them over her newly ample bum. They were at least a size too small, and produced an ugly overflow of flesh from her belly and hips. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed Ellie’s fears that her dumpier arse would look rather sad in the intricate lace designed to highlight a firm round bum rather than a soft wobbly one.
She pulled her summer dress on with much less hassle, but the end result was a similar story. Her breasts, which had stood out firmly from the fabric when she had walked into the clinic, now dropped down obviously and kept pulling the dress down with them. Ellie had to keep adjusting it to make it stay where it belonged. Even when hovering at a good height, the dress was now less than flattering. While it was a loose fit, it has been designed to show off the figure of the wearer, so Ellie’s new little belly bulge and her other wobbly bits were more obvious than Ellie would have liked. Her reflection in the three huge mirrors also showed for more of her bare flesh than was strictly appropriate for a woman of her age. Her shoulders and the exposed expanse of skin above her breasts in particular looked more weathered and less radiant then she was used to. Ellie might have even gone as far as to say she looked a bit leathery.
Slipping her strappy shoes back on she got a closer look at her squished little toes, and was horrified to realise how her supple feet were now stiff and inflexible. The result of years of mistreatment. Years that had never even happened. Ellie was also surprised (and disturbed) by minor twinges in her back when she bent down. She was clearly not as nubile as she once was, and that frightened her.
She strode out into the lobby, trying to feign a confidence that she was sorely lacking. The Witch Doctor was waiting for her. The older woman cast an appraising eye over her client.
“You hardly look a day older” She said, with a half hidden tone of bitterness.
Ellie snorted derisively. “I look a hundred years older. And feel it too,” she moved a hand to the small of her back. “Are you sure you only took ten years?”
The Witch Doctor nodded. “You are still a very good looking woman, you're very lucky to have good genes. Maybe we should take another few years if we really want to make a point?”
Ellie balked at the idea “No!” she shouted a bit too quickly. “I mean, no. This will be fine, I’m sure they will notice. I know I do. And like you said, we don’t want them to suspect foul play.”
The Witch Doctor seemed to accept that line of reasoning, much to Ellie’s relief. She was now a bit frightened of the old woman, and worried that at any moment she might whip out a syringe and age Ellie’s boobs down to her waist and her ass down to knees.
“Very well. Take your new found maturity and test Mr A and Mr B. Dress nice, be yourself, it’s only your looks we are testing them on, not a change in personality. Once you have judged both of their reactions, come back to me and I will restore your youthful glory. May I suggest you don’t tell anyone about this little...exchange? Even the boys, wait till you are young again to tell them if they pass or fail. They might just think you are in denial about growing old, and that would be an embarrassment you could do without.” The old lady shook Ellie’s hand and smiled warmly. “Good luck!”
…...............................................................
Ellie burst into her flat in floods of tears, her mascara running down the tiny crevices around her eyes. She slammed the door and ran to the bathroom then stood sobbing at her reflection.
Tonight had been a disaster. Mr A had failed the test miserably, and revealed himself to be a massive arsehole in the process.
As soon as he saw Ellie, he made no effort to hide his disappointment in her appearance. He said she looked tired, asked if she was unwell? Should they reschedule? Elle was hurt, but assured him she was ok.
She had dressed as she normally would do, showing just a bit too much thigh, and just a bit too much cleavage than was flattering for her more mature figure. Inside she was horrified at the thought of barring her cellulite to the world, but it had to be done. She wore some make up, as she normally did, but not enough to hide the lines and wrinkles than now marred her face.
Mr A was off all though their meal. He seemed disinterred in their conversation, un-subtly frowned when he got a sight of her crossed thighs, and all in all acted bored to be with Ellie. He was nothing like this normally. The only time he actively engaged was to urge Ellie to get a personal trainer. She could "do with toning up", he said. When he started leering after the (annoyingly young and lithe) waitress, that was the final straw. Ellie would have stormed off, but Mr A beat her to it, making his excuses before dashing off to... flirt with the waitress as she left the restaurant! Leaving an angry and devastated, Ellie sat alone feeling very very old.
Now back home, Ellie stared at her 32 year old visage. Her tears had warped her made-up face into that of a haggard pandas. Was this really what her future held? Rejection from those she loved, self loathing from herself. She stared at the fine lines around her puffy eyes, and vowed never to take her youth for granted again.
She wiped her cheeks, stripped down naked, and cast an appraising eye of the body of her future. The sags, the bags, the bulges. She absorbed the effect each flaw had on her overall look. How the looseness of her breasts took the wow out of her nakedness. How the bulge above her hips sullied her figure. How the wobble of her bigger, lightly dimpled bum spoiled the alluring sway of her walk.
She made note of these things so she would appreciate the beauty if her true form when she was young again. So she could prepare herself for the inevitable decline if the next decade of her life.
But most of all, she took note so that she could hide these flaws tomorrow.
She knew she should present Mr B with the same vision of mediocrity that she had shown Mr A, but she couldn't do it again. She had never expected to be rejected this hard. Not truly. And she couldn't bear to face it again. Not from Mr B. Not from both of her loves. Tomorrow she would dress to flatter her figure, make up her face more strategically, and play to her remaining strengths. She plucked out the grey hair with a swift angry motion. Ellie was still a good looking woman, despite a decade of unearned wear and tear, and she was damn well going to prove it.
.....................................................................................................
Elle lay naked in her bed. The morning’s sunshine splayed over her pale flesh, ruthlessly highlighting every wrinkle, every inch of soft flesh, every dimple. Sunlight, Ellie decided, was meant for the young.
Elle sat up and looked around, already knowing in her heart what she would find. He was gone. He had snuck out. Mr B had slept with her, as he had done so sweetly many times before, but he had never snuck out before dawn before. In her heart, she had known he would go.
He had acted the perfect gentleman during their meal, but she could sense something was wrong. He could tell that she was different, older, uglier, even with her strategic yet sexy choice of outfit. Even with the layers of make up on her early thirties face. He could tell, and he did not approve.
Ellie ignored the signs, too hopeful that he would prove that he loved her for her, not for her body. She teased him back to her flat, which was much more difficult than it ever had been before. And they head sex, but it was awkward and distant, unlike their passionate affair had been up till today. Ellie wasn't able to do her favourite positions in her repertoire, she was just a bit too stiff these days (much to her horror). Still she had persisted, but under the covers there was no way to hide the sag of her breasts, the softness of her ass, and the wrinkles on her skin. Mr B saw her as she was, and fled before morning.
Ellie was more stunned that upset. More dismayed than surprised. Both the men in her life had revealed themselves to be shallow, callous bastards. They would have stayed with her until her looks began to fade, and at the first sign of a grey hair or wobble or a wrinkle, they would have run off with a younger model. They would have taken the best years of her life and then abandoned her.
Ellie sighed, her heavy cleavage sighed with her. But, she told herself, she had won. She had suspected this, and treated them, and they had failed. She had lost nothing, but they had lost her.
The best years of her life were safely in a syringe, waiting for her. And she would appreciate her looks all the more having seen what time had in store for her. She would choose more wisely when it came to men from now on. Nice guys, rather than suave ones. Yes, she smiled; her youth would not be wasted on her. Ellie would appreciate her pert boobs, her heart shaped bum, her sleek cellulite free thighs, her flat stomach and fresh beautiful face...
That was, if the Witch Doctor ever returned her calls...
Written by Ark, 2014
"Well, that's a nice problem to have Miss Sanderson. But I see your dilemma, and I think we may be able to offer you just the solution you're looking for."
The Witch Doctor looked over at her potential client and flashed her most convincing saleswoman simile. Ellie Sanderson truly was a very beautiful woman; it was easy to see how she had got herself into a situation such as this.
"So how can I tell which one is right for me?" Ellie asked, absently tossing her chestnut curls over her shoulder. She wore a clingy summer dress that showed the outline of her nubile young figure. Large firm breasts sat high, defying gravity with every soft exhale of her chest, and her long supple legs were crossed, showing envious quantities of smooth flesh.
Ellie had come here because The Witch Doctor had a reputation. A reputation for dealing with problems in...unusual ways. Especially problems involving men.
"Well, choosing which man to love is a hard choice. Only you can decide that. But I think I can help you find which of your two prince charmings love you more." Ellie had come here with a first world problem; she was torn between two handsome successful men. It wasn't hard to see how she had attracted such catches with her fresh face and sultry body. She was a sweet girl to boot, who was loathed to hurt either prince. But The Witch Doctor had a plan to help her. "You are worried they might only love you for your looks?"
The lithe woman nodded gently. The Witch understood Ellie's fears. She had never been as beautiful as this young flower herself, but she knew how cruel men could be once a girl lost her youthful glow.
"I propose we test them. We show them what you will look like in the future, and see if they still see your inner beauty when your window dressing has faded."
Ellie looked shocked. "You mean to age me?" Her voice was apprehensive. "You can do that?"
The Witch nodded.
"It wouldn't be permanent, would it?" Ellie wasn't overly vain, but no 22 year old wants to lose their beauty.
"No, I can return your years once you have tested your boys. I'll only take a decade, that way they won't suspect the supernatural. They will just assume you've, um, let yourself go a bit." Ellie visibly winced at the thought, but after a moment she seemed to come around to the idea.
"Ok." She said. "Let's do this."
The Witch Doctor led Ellie through to the work room; a whitewashed chamber with three huge mirrors cover three of the four walls. The Witch Doctor tried not to look at their reflections, comparing Ellie’s beauty to her own middle aged visage would only make her feel old. She adjusted her elasticated waistband with a wistful frown on her lips.
“So how does it work?” The comely 22 year old asked as they approached the dentists-style chair in the centre of the room. The Witch Doctor gestured, and Ellie took her seat, swinging her supple legs up and round, kicking off her high heels to leave her dainty feet bare. Ellie was afraid, maybe this was a bad idea after all?
“Well, I'll use this.” The Witch Doctor produced an empty ornate syringe from her coat pocket. “It will pull out ten years of your youth, you’ll age instantly. Your body will be weathered as if the next ten years had been lived with the same routine you've been doing for the last week. The same diet, exercise etc.”
Ellie was starting to regret that tub of ice cream she had eaten last night while obsessing over whether or not to come to see this mysterious woman. “At least I don’t smoke.” she whispered “I use wrinkle cream as well, and moisturiser.”
The Witch Doctor laughed at Ellie’s nervous remarks. “Wrinkle cream? Bit young for that aren't you? Well you are about to find out if it worked.” Ellie leaned back and The Witch Doctor leaned over her, syringe glinting in the fluorescent light. “Once it’s done, I'll leave you be for a bit so you can inspect the damage. Don’t freak out or anything though, it’s only temporary remember?” She tried to sooth her petite young patient, running her hand through Ellie’s luxuriant hair. The Witch Doctor almost felt bad that she was about sully this vision of loveliness, she felt sorry for whichever of the two young men failed this unusual test. “Are you ready?”
Ellie nodded hurriedly. She felt anything but ready.
The Witch Doctor slid in the needle with the painless care of a seasoned professional. Slowly she pulled the plunger out. The chamber filled with a soft amber liquid. Ellie’s essence. And with that, Ellie was a 32 year old woman.
The Witch Doctor gave the now full syringe a flick. "It's done." She told Ellie. "That wasn't so bad was it? I'll go wait outside, have a look at yourself in the mirrors. See what a decade can do to beauty". And then Ellie was alone
She sat there for a bit, dreading her reflection., then finally stood up. She pulled off her summer dress and slipped off her black lace panties, all with her eyes closed. She wasn't wearing a bra today, her pert breasts hadn't needed one this morning. She wondered if they would do now. The thought made her feel nauseous.
Barefoot she walked towards the mirrors, eyes still firmly closed. Had she really just be aged into her thirties by a modern day Witch Doctor? Maybe this was just all a scam? Finally she found the courage to open her eyes.
"Oh no," She whispered, bringing her hand up to her face. Her noticeably older face. There were dark bags under her eyes where before there had been smooth skin. The shadows were punctuated by thin lines that gave her a face a tired look that it had never had before. Complementing her new eye bags were faint crow’s feet branching out from each corner. Ellie noticed in disappointment that her brow was creased with faint furrows. A number 11 had formed between her eyebrows, and to her horror the lines were uneven, spoiling the previously perfect symmetry of her face. “Better stop scowling so much,” she whispered aloud. She had laugh lines as well, snaking down from her nose to her mouth, outlining her now puffier cheeks. “Better stop smiling too. Maybe I should stop making facial expressions all together.”
Ellie was shocked at how much older her face looked. Sure, these were only fine lines, and she was still a good looking woman. But she didn’t look fresh faced anymore. The realisation that she only had ten years of youthful beauty left, ten years before this was the tired reflection that looked back at her every day, was sobering.
Moving on sombrely she assessed her hair. Her lazy ringlets seemed a little less lively, a little less shiny maybe, but otherwise it still looked good. Ellie was quite happy with that, fluffing it up with her fingers. Happy that was, until she spotted the grey. “You have to be kidding me,” she exclaimed, eyes fixed on the solitary coarse hair. Grey at 32? No way. She was still a young woman in the grand scheme of things. Wasn't she? Ellie thought back to times she had spotted stray greys on other women, how she had instantly written them off as old women. This single strand was more damaging that all the creases on her face combined. She thought about plucking it, just for a moment her vanity taking over, but she remembered why she was doing all this. She needed to test her boys. If they wouldn’t still love her with one grey hair, they would never love her at 40 when she had dozens. Or maybe hundreds at this rate. With a weary sigh she left the insolent strand be, and instead worried about how she could prevent greying when she naturally reached her thirties.
In her worrying, she had almost forgotten all about her rest of her body. Given the state of her face and hair, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but better to get it over with she supposed. She wasn’t getting any younger after all.
The first thing she noticed was her weight. She had only gained about 10-15 pounds, which was relief, but it still had a noticeable effect. Everything seemed looser, and her figure was less defined. Her skin also had lost its glow, minor blemishes where they did not belong made her naked form look, well, older.
Her C cup breasts were still the same size, but had developed the subtlest of droops. They now were now slightly tear drop shaped rather that the gravity defying grapefruits they normally were. Even this slight decline mortified Ellie. She cupped them in her hands and felt their weight, noticing a new softness in place of the firm flesh she was used to. Ellie lamented the thought of not being able to go bra-less on whim anymore, and wondered if these saggy boobs would even hold up the summer dress she had worn today. Would her boyfriends judge her for having an aging chest? Would they be as repulsed as Ellie herself was? That was the whole point of this she supposed, but still the thought of rejection made her sick to her stomach.
Ellie moved her hands down to her midriff. It looked like the same flat surface she was used to. Or did it? She pushed her fingers in, and noticed some give in the flesh that was new and unwelcome. On closer inspection, there was now a slight doughy bulge spoiling her figure, and the smallest beginnings of love handles above her hips. A pending spare tyre. Ellie pinched an inch of flesh with a frown on her newly lined forehead. She wasn't used to having excess fat anywhere on her taut body, and seeing these first ripples of a middle aged spread filled her with the urge to hit the gym and give up carbs.
Her hips were also looking less sleek and more soft, but it was her thighs that caught her eye next. They were noticeably bigger, softer and less appealingly shaped. Ellie was shocked. Her legs were her best feature! Or at least they had been. Now her chubby thighs made her seem bottom heavy, and made her look shorter. She gave her left thigh a derogatory jiggle. The rest of her legs looked ok she supposed, her knees looked a bit knobblier, her calves maybe a little less shapely, but nothing major. Her slender ankles and cute feet were still their seductive selves. Although, on closer inspection her little toes were squashed and calloused unappealingly. The result of over a decade of wearing constricting high heels no doubt. Ellie would have to be careful about that when she aged for real, unless she wanted deformed feet like her mothers.
She twisted round to view herself from behind. "Urghhhhh". She exclaimed at the sight of her once pert ass. Some of the pounds that had attached themselves to her thighs had also made a home for themselves on her bum. She shifted her balance slightly and gasped at the slight wobble it had acquired. It was bigger, only a bit bigger she supposed, but the extra weight had really spoiled its shape. Previously high, firm and round, Ellies derriere was now had a bit of a droopy appearance. At 22, cellulite had been a distant nightmare, but at 32 here it was, bubbling softly on the underside of her arse and corrupting the tops of her once tight hamstrings (which looked much worse from behind). Ellie was depressed by this newest flaw, it really made her body look and feel like a middle aged woman's. She was no longer walking around as a lithe young thing, but was instead a fading beauty with her best days behind her.
Viewing herself side on, the changes to her figure was more obvious. Ellie could see the droop of her boobs, the newly acquired pooch of a belly, and the soft slope rather than a firm curve that was now her ass.
Ellie was mortified to see how ten years had taken the shine off her looks. Most of the changes were minor on their own (except the cellulite, which Ellie though was pretty devastating), but combined they made her look very ordinary. The thickening of her narrow waist combined with her more wobbly curves had done a number on her tight figure; she was now less knock-out and more knocked-out. The lines on her face made her look worn out even from a distance. Ellie tried to come to terms with the fact that this was her future, in ten years’ time this nightmare would be a reality.
Ellie had somehow assumed she would age better than this. She had naively imagined herself staying gorgeous into her 40s. Sure, it wasn’t like she was hideous at 32 or anything. She was still a handsome woman, relatively slim with a good bust and a (comparatively) shapely figure. Her face was still naturally pretty, even if it had a few lines. But without her youthful glow her looks didn’t even compare to her perfect 22 year old self. She was now a woman that looked good for her age, rather than just looking good. The thought made Ellie feel a bit sick as she worried about the effect this would have on her life.
She would have to get used to competing with younger woman. It had been a rare thing for Ellie to be in a room with anyone who could rival her smouldering good looks before today, but now every fresh faced 20 something would put her to shame. How would she feel in restaurants where her date would be stealing glances as nubile young waitresses rather than looking at her? She would have to suck in her little belly bulge whenever a camera was pointed in her direction. And Bikinis would be permanently off the menu. She felt a wave of sadness at the thought of all her designer swimsuits being retired, to be replaced by bulge concealing one-pieces and cottage cheese hiding sarongs.
And sex! Oh god, how was she supposed to have sex looking like this? All her youthful lingerie would seem ridiculous surrounded by flab and dimpled flesh. She would have to replace the frilly stuff with shape-wear to restore her figure, and there was no way she was being seen dead in anything beige and elasticated. She resolved that Sex would have to be a strictly lights off affair from now on. Assuming anyone would even want to sleep with her in this aged body. Which, she reminded herself again, was the point of all this. She needed to know for sure if her would-be husbands would still want her without her beauty. She needed to know which man was right for her.
But what if they both failed, she thought with sudden dread. What if they both rejected her now she was wilting? She wasn’t sure she could even blame them if they did, as she examined the network of fine lines around her bright eyes. Would she want them if they had beer belly’s and receding hairlines? She liked to think she wouldn’t care what they looked like. But maybe she was being unfair asking them to accept her less attractive future self while they were both still young and toned. It would be a different story if they grew old and imperfect together naturally. Maybe this was a terrible idea, and she should just get The Witch Doctor to restore her youth right here and now.
But no. That was just her vanity talking, revolting against the saggy, wrinkly reflection in front of her. She needed to see this through, she needed to know that it wasn’t just lust they felt for her. She needed to know she was more than just a pretty face and an hourglass figure to them. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about the shift of sand down the hourglass in the meantime.
She turned away from the mirror and walked back towards her clothes, sparing one last glance over her shoulder at her looser ass. She winced as she watched it jiggle as she swayed. How had her body let itself go like this! She had been a perfect 10 of curvy gorgeousness when she had gotten out of bed this morning, could ten years really take all that away and leave her a plain faced woman battling the bulge?
And this was what her body looked like assuming she kept going to the gym three times a week and (last night’s tub of ice cream notwithstanding) eating healthily. She would no doubt be fatter in her thirties if she got lax in her regime, and she would probably have more grey hairs if her job got more stressful. And children! If this was how bad she looked without ever having kids, what would a pregnancy or two do to her figure? She would have stretch marks, baby weight and an even fatter ass no doubt. How saggy would her lovely breasts (dropping only slightly now, but still alluring in a more mature way) be after a couple of children had inflated and deflated them? She would look a hell of a lot worse than she did right now, and that was a really depressing thought.
If her boys didn’t fancy her in this body, which in all likelihood was the best case scenario version of her 32 year old self, then Ellie was going to cry.
She manoeuvred her black lace underwear back up her legs, encountering some serious resistance around her chubbier thighs. She grunted and squirmed and wiggled, cursing under her breath, and then finally squeezed them over her newly ample bum. They were at least a size too small, and produced an ugly overflow of flesh from her belly and hips. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed Ellie’s fears that her dumpier arse would look rather sad in the intricate lace designed to highlight a firm round bum rather than a soft wobbly one.
She pulled her summer dress on with much less hassle, but the end result was a similar story. Her breasts, which had stood out firmly from the fabric when she had walked into the clinic, now dropped down obviously and kept pulling the dress down with them. Ellie had to keep adjusting it to make it stay where it belonged. Even when hovering at a good height, the dress was now less than flattering. While it was a loose fit, it has been designed to show off the figure of the wearer, so Ellie’s new little belly bulge and her other wobbly bits were more obvious than Ellie would have liked. Her reflection in the three huge mirrors also showed for more of her bare flesh than was strictly appropriate for a woman of her age. Her shoulders and the exposed expanse of skin above her breasts in particular looked more weathered and less radiant then she was used to. Ellie might have even gone as far as to say she looked a bit leathery.
Slipping her strappy shoes back on she got a closer look at her squished little toes, and was horrified to realise how her supple feet were now stiff and inflexible. The result of years of mistreatment. Years that had never even happened. Ellie was also surprised (and disturbed) by minor twinges in her back when she bent down. She was clearly not as nubile as she once was, and that frightened her.
She strode out into the lobby, trying to feign a confidence that she was sorely lacking. The Witch Doctor was waiting for her. The older woman cast an appraising eye over her client.
“You hardly look a day older” She said, with a half hidden tone of bitterness.
Ellie snorted derisively. “I look a hundred years older. And feel it too,” she moved a hand to the small of her back. “Are you sure you only took ten years?”
The Witch Doctor nodded. “You are still a very good looking woman, you're very lucky to have good genes. Maybe we should take another few years if we really want to make a point?”
Ellie balked at the idea “No!” she shouted a bit too quickly. “I mean, no. This will be fine, I’m sure they will notice. I know I do. And like you said, we don’t want them to suspect foul play.”
The Witch Doctor seemed to accept that line of reasoning, much to Ellie’s relief. She was now a bit frightened of the old woman, and worried that at any moment she might whip out a syringe and age Ellie’s boobs down to her waist and her ass down to knees.
“Very well. Take your new found maturity and test Mr A and Mr B. Dress nice, be yourself, it’s only your looks we are testing them on, not a change in personality. Once you have judged both of their reactions, come back to me and I will restore your youthful glory. May I suggest you don’t tell anyone about this little...exchange? Even the boys, wait till you are young again to tell them if they pass or fail. They might just think you are in denial about growing old, and that would be an embarrassment you could do without.” The old lady shook Ellie’s hand and smiled warmly. “Good luck!”
…...............................................................
Ellie burst into her flat in floods of tears, her mascara running down the tiny crevices around her eyes. She slammed the door and ran to the bathroom then stood sobbing at her reflection.
Tonight had been a disaster. Mr A had failed the test miserably, and revealed himself to be a massive arsehole in the process.
As soon as he saw Ellie, he made no effort to hide his disappointment in her appearance. He said she looked tired, asked if she was unwell? Should they reschedule? Elle was hurt, but assured him she was ok.
She had dressed as she normally would do, showing just a bit too much thigh, and just a bit too much cleavage than was flattering for her more mature figure. Inside she was horrified at the thought of barring her cellulite to the world, but it had to be done. She wore some make up, as she normally did, but not enough to hide the lines and wrinkles than now marred her face.
Mr A was off all though their meal. He seemed disinterred in their conversation, un-subtly frowned when he got a sight of her crossed thighs, and all in all acted bored to be with Ellie. He was nothing like this normally. The only time he actively engaged was to urge Ellie to get a personal trainer. She could "do with toning up", he said. When he started leering after the (annoyingly young and lithe) waitress, that was the final straw. Ellie would have stormed off, but Mr A beat her to it, making his excuses before dashing off to... flirt with the waitress as she left the restaurant! Leaving an angry and devastated, Ellie sat alone feeling very very old.
Now back home, Ellie stared at her 32 year old visage. Her tears had warped her made-up face into that of a haggard pandas. Was this really what her future held? Rejection from those she loved, self loathing from herself. She stared at the fine lines around her puffy eyes, and vowed never to take her youth for granted again.
She wiped her cheeks, stripped down naked, and cast an appraising eye of the body of her future. The sags, the bags, the bulges. She absorbed the effect each flaw had on her overall look. How the looseness of her breasts took the wow out of her nakedness. How the bulge above her hips sullied her figure. How the wobble of her bigger, lightly dimpled bum spoiled the alluring sway of her walk.
She made note of these things so she would appreciate the beauty if her true form when she was young again. So she could prepare herself for the inevitable decline if the next decade of her life.
But most of all, she took note so that she could hide these flaws tomorrow.
She knew she should present Mr B with the same vision of mediocrity that she had shown Mr A, but she couldn't do it again. She had never expected to be rejected this hard. Not truly. And she couldn't bear to face it again. Not from Mr B. Not from both of her loves. Tomorrow she would dress to flatter her figure, make up her face more strategically, and play to her remaining strengths. She plucked out the grey hair with a swift angry motion. Ellie was still a good looking woman, despite a decade of unearned wear and tear, and she was damn well going to prove it.
.....................................................................................................
Elle lay naked in her bed. The morning’s sunshine splayed over her pale flesh, ruthlessly highlighting every wrinkle, every inch of soft flesh, every dimple. Sunlight, Ellie decided, was meant for the young.
Elle sat up and looked around, already knowing in her heart what she would find. He was gone. He had snuck out. Mr B had slept with her, as he had done so sweetly many times before, but he had never snuck out before dawn before. In her heart, she had known he would go.
He had acted the perfect gentleman during their meal, but she could sense something was wrong. He could tell that she was different, older, uglier, even with her strategic yet sexy choice of outfit. Even with the layers of make up on her early thirties face. He could tell, and he did not approve.
Ellie ignored the signs, too hopeful that he would prove that he loved her for her, not for her body. She teased him back to her flat, which was much more difficult than it ever had been before. And they head sex, but it was awkward and distant, unlike their passionate affair had been up till today. Ellie wasn't able to do her favourite positions in her repertoire, she was just a bit too stiff these days (much to her horror). Still she had persisted, but under the covers there was no way to hide the sag of her breasts, the softness of her ass, and the wrinkles on her skin. Mr B saw her as she was, and fled before morning.
Ellie was more stunned that upset. More dismayed than surprised. Both the men in her life had revealed themselves to be shallow, callous bastards. They would have stayed with her until her looks began to fade, and at the first sign of a grey hair or wobble or a wrinkle, they would have run off with a younger model. They would have taken the best years of her life and then abandoned her.
Ellie sighed, her heavy cleavage sighed with her. But, she told herself, she had won. She had suspected this, and treated them, and they had failed. She had lost nothing, but they had lost her.
The best years of her life were safely in a syringe, waiting for her. And she would appreciate her looks all the more having seen what time had in store for her. She would choose more wisely when it came to men from now on. Nice guys, rather than suave ones. Yes, she smiled; her youth would not be wasted on her. Ellie would appreciate her pert boobs, her heart shaped bum, her sleek cellulite free thighs, her flat stomach and fresh beautiful face...
That was, if the Witch Doctor ever returned her calls...