Post by kingfaraday on Jul 3, 2020 9:40:42 GMT -6
A Walk Through Campus
By: Bob
When I woke up that morning, I knew something was different. I can’t explain how I knew, but I could feel the power flowing through me. I climbed out of my dorm bunk, got dressed, and waited. The excitement to use my new abilities only grew with every second. Finally I heard the sound of the door opposite of mine open. Sally Taylor had lived across from me all semester. As a college freshman she was a year younger than me. She was a long legged 5’9 with a cute round butt. Long blond hair cascaded all the way down to the small of her back. Her B-cup breast weren’t large, but the perky pair fit perfectly on her figure. Her beauty was brought together by her cute face and a set of dreamy blue eyes. Our relationship didn’t go much beyond exchanging pleasantries when we saw each other in the hallway. However, I thought it was time for us to get a little closer.
I stepped out into the hallway; Sally saw me and smiled. I returned the smile, and said, “How’s it going?” “Fine just heading off to class,” she replied. “Hey Sally let me ask you a hypothetical: If you could see yourself at any age, what would you pick?” Sally paused for moment and said, “I don’t know probably my late 40s like 47, 48 just to see how I’m holding up as a late middle aged lady.” “You’re wish is my command,” I said and snapped my fingers.
“Wait what?” she said nervously, but it was too late. Sally had already left her college years and looked to be in her late twenties. She was a stunning beauty. Her breast had grown slightly into alluring C-cups. She looked like a model, but I knew beauty was fleeting. Sure enough, crow’s feet began to appear around her eyes, and laugh lines etched their way across her face. Weight began to accumulate on her hips and her long legs were now marred by cellulite. As she passed thirty-five, a belly began to develop. Her arms lost muscle tone, and I could see them slightly jiggle slightly with every movement she made. However, I was most captivated by her hair. It had lost its sheen and looked much more brittle. The blond hair had dulled so much that it was practically brown, and large swatches were now grey. I snapped my fingers again, and her hair rearranged itself into a shorter cut more fitting a woman of Sally’s new age.
“What have you done to me? I look like I could be my mother’s sister!” Sally cried. Standing there, she looked almost comical in her college age clothes that were about to burst from the seams. I snapped my fingers for a third and finale time. Sally was suddenly clothed in a professional looking outfit. Her sagging breasts were being held up in a strong underwire bra, and her pantyhose concealed the few varicose veins on her legs. Her style suggested a women working really hard to hold on to the last shreds of her youthful beauty. At the same time that her outfit changed, Sally’s eyes clouded up for a moment. When it was gone, her posture had changed. Standing confidently before me was Sally Taylor, Dean of University Housing. In the new reality I had written, Sally had worked at the University since her own graduation. Although she gotten older, her taste in men hadn’t. At the beginning of each semester, Sally would find herself a new conquest, and right now I was that lucky man.
She made her way towards me, gyrating her now broader hips as she came closer. “I’ve heard that some pretty dirty stuff is going on in this dorm room,” she purred in a deeper, huskier voice than she had had before. “I think I need to inspect it.” Needing no further provocation, we walked back into my dorm. Once inside, we began furiously making out on my futon. I undid her bra and watched with glee as her breast fell until they were resting on her belly. I ran my hands up and down her body noting where fat had accumulated around her waist. It felt like a lot of her menopausal weight was going to her ass which had nearly tripled in size. After several rounds of love making, we broke apart. Sally got up, put her clothes back on, and smiled. “You definitely know how to show a woman a good time. I have to get back to work, but I will be back later this week for round two.” She left my dorm, and I sat back on my futon. I checked my watch and jumped. I was late for an appointment with my professor.
I rushed out of my dorm and made my way across the quad. As I walked, I noticed a girl and a guy casually flirting with each other as they made their way to the dorm. “Come on Dana, let me take you out for dinner some time. One dinner and I swear I will stop bothering you,” the boy said. “Mark, I’m sorry, but I’ve told you that I don’t want to go out with you,” Dana said trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. I could see why Mark was so eager for date. Dana was a stunning girl. She had dark raven hair that framed a face that had a classic beauty. She reminded me of sort of a 21st century Audrey Hepburn. She was wearing a blue tube top that accentuated her C-cup breasts. A mischievous grin spread across my face, and I snapped my fingers. I could feel reality bend around me for a second, and I looked back up at them. Dana was now a fifty year old woman and… Mark’s mother! Dana’s hair was almost completely grey, and quite a few crow’s feet were around her eyes. Her hips had flared out a bit, but other than that she hadn’t gained much weight. She was still attractive, but it was a more mature beauty.
“Honey please come out to lunch with me. You’ve been away at school, and I’ve missed you,” Dana said. “Ah come on Mom! You’ve got to let me get on with my life. I’m not your little kid anymore,” Mark replied. Dana began to walk away dejectedly. I felt bad for, so I snapped my finger again. Dana would end up going to lunch by herself. However, at the restaurant she would meet a twenty-five year old man who would fall head over heals in love with her. They would begin a passionate affair, and soon she would be feeling half her age.
After this short distraction, I made my way to the English building to meet with my professor, Harold Thompson. Dr. Thompson was a fifty-year-old man whose wife had passed away two years prior. I walk up to his office and heard two different sets of voices coming from inside. “Amy, we’ve talked about this. You know how I feel about you, but you’re nineteen years old and my student,” Dr. Thompson said. I peered into the office door window, and saw a girl sitting opposite of the professor. She wore a hot pink tube top with a long sleeved white dress shirt tied in a halter style, and back jeans. Her tight curly red hair had been pulled back with a hair clip, accenting her cheeks. The girl who I surmised was named Amy said, “But Harry, there is got to be a way.” “Aw but there is,” I thought and snapped my fingers. Suddenly before both our eyes Amy rapidly passed from her twenties into her thirties, and added a few pounds so that her pants filled out and looked noticeably tighter. “Amy, what’s happening to you?” "What do you mean Harry?" the now 38 year old woman said as her features sharpened somewhat, and crows feet began to form. "We've known each other for years, and 38 and 50 aren't really that far apart." "But, you're, I thought you were 19, and..." Harry seemed dumfounded at what was going on. "Oh Harry, honey, you know I'm 44 if I'm a day," she replied. Grey and white hairs crept in one by one, and more fine lines had made their appearance. Small bags now showed under the eyes, her tummy bulged somewhat, and her butt had filled out. "Well honey, I have to say, I feel a little confused. I could swear that..." "Maybe we better go lay down honey. Don't you remember, I just turned 50 last month,” said the now more matronly looking woman. Her hair had gone completely white on top, and she had scattered grey and white curls amongst a sea of faded red.
I snapped my finger again. Amy was now wearing a white conservative blouse and a black skirt that went past her knees. She was now also sporting a pair of glasses. A cloud momentarily appeared behind Professor Thompson’s eyes, and then he spoke, “Forgive me Professor Lawrence, I don’t know what I was blabbering on about.” “Harry you’ve got to start calling me Amy. We’ve worked together for years, and…” She winked. “If we are going to start seeing each other romantically then you should really call me by my first name.” She leaned over Professor Thompson’s desk and began making out with him. I paused for a moment to look at Amy’s now quite large posterior and then decided that I would leave them to it. I could always reschedule with Dr. Thompson, and besides I had one more thing to do before the day was over.
The Alpha Sigma Delta sorority house was hosting a party that night, and all the girls were dressed to impress. I walked up to the window and looked in. I took a moment to take in the scene. All the girls with their supple, perky breasts and tight, firm asses were parading around the room. Boys were dancing and partying with a glint in their eye that could only mean one thing. I enjoyed the picture for one more moment and snapped my fingers.
My eyes were on a blonde headed girl named Cynthia Rogers. She was slow dancing with a guy named Clark Thomas. Clark had his eyes closed with his hands around Cynthia’s small waist. He suddenly felt something strange. Cynthia’s waist seemed to be expanding. He readjusted his arms and felt something else knew. Cynthia’s hips had expanded outward and had met up with her now quit enormous ass. Concerned Clark finally opened his eyes. Looking back at him was the worn face of a 45-year-old woman. Laugh lines surrounded her face, and her blond hair now had very prominent grey roots. Clark screamed. “What’s wrong?” Cynthia said, but at that same moment she caught sight of herself in a mirror that hung at the front of the room. Cynthia began to panic along with the other thirty women who were all realizing they had age 25+ years. Cries of “I look like my mother!” could be heard throughout the room. One former college co-ed, who was now sporting frizzy grey hair and a round potbelly, began to sob loudly. Another woman, who I recognized as a former raven-haired cheerleader, began to run her hands up and down her body. I saw the look of horror on her face as she felt the large and saggy breasts on her chest and the saddlebags on her hips. She then pulled a compact mirror out of her bag, and I saw her gasp in horror as she looked at the two white streaks in her hair that began at each temple.
I returned my eyes to Cynthia. I watched as she bent over (the seams of her dress strained as she did so) and tried to remove her six-inch heels. She had developed cankles, and her once dainty feet were now squashed into the heels. Her toes were stiff and worn from years of use. The skin on her feet had become more translucent, and veins could be easily seen along with a few age spots. Cynthia began to massage her feet with a look of pure shock and disbelief upon her face.
I watched as terrified middle-aged women and college boys began to head toward the sorority house door. I couldn’t allow this to happen, so I raised my hand and snapped my finger again. The Alpha Sigma Delta sign above the building disappeared and was replaced by a sign that read “Continuing Education Resource Center.” I could tell that the perspectives of everyone in attendance were changing to conform to the new reality I was weaving. Cynthia Rodgers was now Cynthia Meadows. She was dressed in a red dressed that accentuated her ample cleavage and her new found curves. A string of pearls hung around her neck giving her a more elegant look. In this new reality, she had dropped out of college, gotten married at 21, and had become a stay at home mom. However, after her children had grown up and moved out of the house, she had discovered that her husband was cheating on her with a younger woman. She was in the process of divorcing his worthless ass and had decided to go back to school and finish her accounting degree. When she had arrived at the university, she had developed a new sexual preference for college age boys and was now a self-identified cougar. She thought about this as she pushed her body closer to her date and began to stick her tongue down his throat.
Similar backstories were being constructed in the minds of the rest of the woman in attendance. The frizzy grey-haired former co-ed was now a soccer mom who had gone back to school looking to add some excitement to her life. The former cheerleader had now worked as a high school teacher for nearly thirty years. She had gone back to school to get a doctorate in order to increase her chances of being promoted to principal. The look of innocence and youth the girls had possessed less than an hour ago had been replaced by a tired yet resolved look. These women had their eyes on two young men and knew exactly what they wanted from them. This is what I loved the most about the mental progression. You could physically age a woman all you wanted, but you couldn’t create that specific Mrs. Robinsonesque mindset without the mental changes. I watched this mindset take hold of all the former college girls in the room as they sultrily walked up to their no longer age appropriate dates. I knew the boys would be in for the time of their life tonight.
I smiled as I thought back on all the fun I had had on campus today. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already midnight. I couldn’t believe it was that late, but I guess the saying is true. Time does fly when you are having a good time.
By: Bob
When I woke up that morning, I knew something was different. I can’t explain how I knew, but I could feel the power flowing through me. I climbed out of my dorm bunk, got dressed, and waited. The excitement to use my new abilities only grew with every second. Finally I heard the sound of the door opposite of mine open. Sally Taylor had lived across from me all semester. As a college freshman she was a year younger than me. She was a long legged 5’9 with a cute round butt. Long blond hair cascaded all the way down to the small of her back. Her B-cup breast weren’t large, but the perky pair fit perfectly on her figure. Her beauty was brought together by her cute face and a set of dreamy blue eyes. Our relationship didn’t go much beyond exchanging pleasantries when we saw each other in the hallway. However, I thought it was time for us to get a little closer.
I stepped out into the hallway; Sally saw me and smiled. I returned the smile, and said, “How’s it going?” “Fine just heading off to class,” she replied. “Hey Sally let me ask you a hypothetical: If you could see yourself at any age, what would you pick?” Sally paused for moment and said, “I don’t know probably my late 40s like 47, 48 just to see how I’m holding up as a late middle aged lady.” “You’re wish is my command,” I said and snapped my fingers.
“Wait what?” she said nervously, but it was too late. Sally had already left her college years and looked to be in her late twenties. She was a stunning beauty. Her breast had grown slightly into alluring C-cups. She looked like a model, but I knew beauty was fleeting. Sure enough, crow’s feet began to appear around her eyes, and laugh lines etched their way across her face. Weight began to accumulate on her hips and her long legs were now marred by cellulite. As she passed thirty-five, a belly began to develop. Her arms lost muscle tone, and I could see them slightly jiggle slightly with every movement she made. However, I was most captivated by her hair. It had lost its sheen and looked much more brittle. The blond hair had dulled so much that it was practically brown, and large swatches were now grey. I snapped my fingers again, and her hair rearranged itself into a shorter cut more fitting a woman of Sally’s new age.
“What have you done to me? I look like I could be my mother’s sister!” Sally cried. Standing there, she looked almost comical in her college age clothes that were about to burst from the seams. I snapped my fingers for a third and finale time. Sally was suddenly clothed in a professional looking outfit. Her sagging breasts were being held up in a strong underwire bra, and her pantyhose concealed the few varicose veins on her legs. Her style suggested a women working really hard to hold on to the last shreds of her youthful beauty. At the same time that her outfit changed, Sally’s eyes clouded up for a moment. When it was gone, her posture had changed. Standing confidently before me was Sally Taylor, Dean of University Housing. In the new reality I had written, Sally had worked at the University since her own graduation. Although she gotten older, her taste in men hadn’t. At the beginning of each semester, Sally would find herself a new conquest, and right now I was that lucky man.
She made her way towards me, gyrating her now broader hips as she came closer. “I’ve heard that some pretty dirty stuff is going on in this dorm room,” she purred in a deeper, huskier voice than she had had before. “I think I need to inspect it.” Needing no further provocation, we walked back into my dorm. Once inside, we began furiously making out on my futon. I undid her bra and watched with glee as her breast fell until they were resting on her belly. I ran my hands up and down her body noting where fat had accumulated around her waist. It felt like a lot of her menopausal weight was going to her ass which had nearly tripled in size. After several rounds of love making, we broke apart. Sally got up, put her clothes back on, and smiled. “You definitely know how to show a woman a good time. I have to get back to work, but I will be back later this week for round two.” She left my dorm, and I sat back on my futon. I checked my watch and jumped. I was late for an appointment with my professor.
I rushed out of my dorm and made my way across the quad. As I walked, I noticed a girl and a guy casually flirting with each other as they made their way to the dorm. “Come on Dana, let me take you out for dinner some time. One dinner and I swear I will stop bothering you,” the boy said. “Mark, I’m sorry, but I’ve told you that I don’t want to go out with you,” Dana said trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. I could see why Mark was so eager for date. Dana was a stunning girl. She had dark raven hair that framed a face that had a classic beauty. She reminded me of sort of a 21st century Audrey Hepburn. She was wearing a blue tube top that accentuated her C-cup breasts. A mischievous grin spread across my face, and I snapped my fingers. I could feel reality bend around me for a second, and I looked back up at them. Dana was now a fifty year old woman and… Mark’s mother! Dana’s hair was almost completely grey, and quite a few crow’s feet were around her eyes. Her hips had flared out a bit, but other than that she hadn’t gained much weight. She was still attractive, but it was a more mature beauty.
“Honey please come out to lunch with me. You’ve been away at school, and I’ve missed you,” Dana said. “Ah come on Mom! You’ve got to let me get on with my life. I’m not your little kid anymore,” Mark replied. Dana began to walk away dejectedly. I felt bad for, so I snapped my finger again. Dana would end up going to lunch by herself. However, at the restaurant she would meet a twenty-five year old man who would fall head over heals in love with her. They would begin a passionate affair, and soon she would be feeling half her age.
After this short distraction, I made my way to the English building to meet with my professor, Harold Thompson. Dr. Thompson was a fifty-year-old man whose wife had passed away two years prior. I walk up to his office and heard two different sets of voices coming from inside. “Amy, we’ve talked about this. You know how I feel about you, but you’re nineteen years old and my student,” Dr. Thompson said. I peered into the office door window, and saw a girl sitting opposite of the professor. She wore a hot pink tube top with a long sleeved white dress shirt tied in a halter style, and back jeans. Her tight curly red hair had been pulled back with a hair clip, accenting her cheeks. The girl who I surmised was named Amy said, “But Harry, there is got to be a way.” “Aw but there is,” I thought and snapped my fingers. Suddenly before both our eyes Amy rapidly passed from her twenties into her thirties, and added a few pounds so that her pants filled out and looked noticeably tighter. “Amy, what’s happening to you?” "What do you mean Harry?" the now 38 year old woman said as her features sharpened somewhat, and crows feet began to form. "We've known each other for years, and 38 and 50 aren't really that far apart." "But, you're, I thought you were 19, and..." Harry seemed dumfounded at what was going on. "Oh Harry, honey, you know I'm 44 if I'm a day," she replied. Grey and white hairs crept in one by one, and more fine lines had made their appearance. Small bags now showed under the eyes, her tummy bulged somewhat, and her butt had filled out. "Well honey, I have to say, I feel a little confused. I could swear that..." "Maybe we better go lay down honey. Don't you remember, I just turned 50 last month,” said the now more matronly looking woman. Her hair had gone completely white on top, and she had scattered grey and white curls amongst a sea of faded red.
I snapped my finger again. Amy was now wearing a white conservative blouse and a black skirt that went past her knees. She was now also sporting a pair of glasses. A cloud momentarily appeared behind Professor Thompson’s eyes, and then he spoke, “Forgive me Professor Lawrence, I don’t know what I was blabbering on about.” “Harry you’ve got to start calling me Amy. We’ve worked together for years, and…” She winked. “If we are going to start seeing each other romantically then you should really call me by my first name.” She leaned over Professor Thompson’s desk and began making out with him. I paused for a moment to look at Amy’s now quite large posterior and then decided that I would leave them to it. I could always reschedule with Dr. Thompson, and besides I had one more thing to do before the day was over.
The Alpha Sigma Delta sorority house was hosting a party that night, and all the girls were dressed to impress. I walked up to the window and looked in. I took a moment to take in the scene. All the girls with their supple, perky breasts and tight, firm asses were parading around the room. Boys were dancing and partying with a glint in their eye that could only mean one thing. I enjoyed the picture for one more moment and snapped my fingers.
My eyes were on a blonde headed girl named Cynthia Rogers. She was slow dancing with a guy named Clark Thomas. Clark had his eyes closed with his hands around Cynthia’s small waist. He suddenly felt something strange. Cynthia’s waist seemed to be expanding. He readjusted his arms and felt something else knew. Cynthia’s hips had expanded outward and had met up with her now quit enormous ass. Concerned Clark finally opened his eyes. Looking back at him was the worn face of a 45-year-old woman. Laugh lines surrounded her face, and her blond hair now had very prominent grey roots. Clark screamed. “What’s wrong?” Cynthia said, but at that same moment she caught sight of herself in a mirror that hung at the front of the room. Cynthia began to panic along with the other thirty women who were all realizing they had age 25+ years. Cries of “I look like my mother!” could be heard throughout the room. One former college co-ed, who was now sporting frizzy grey hair and a round potbelly, began to sob loudly. Another woman, who I recognized as a former raven-haired cheerleader, began to run her hands up and down her body. I saw the look of horror on her face as she felt the large and saggy breasts on her chest and the saddlebags on her hips. She then pulled a compact mirror out of her bag, and I saw her gasp in horror as she looked at the two white streaks in her hair that began at each temple.
I returned my eyes to Cynthia. I watched as she bent over (the seams of her dress strained as she did so) and tried to remove her six-inch heels. She had developed cankles, and her once dainty feet were now squashed into the heels. Her toes were stiff and worn from years of use. The skin on her feet had become more translucent, and veins could be easily seen along with a few age spots. Cynthia began to massage her feet with a look of pure shock and disbelief upon her face.
I watched as terrified middle-aged women and college boys began to head toward the sorority house door. I couldn’t allow this to happen, so I raised my hand and snapped my finger again. The Alpha Sigma Delta sign above the building disappeared and was replaced by a sign that read “Continuing Education Resource Center.” I could tell that the perspectives of everyone in attendance were changing to conform to the new reality I was weaving. Cynthia Rodgers was now Cynthia Meadows. She was dressed in a red dressed that accentuated her ample cleavage and her new found curves. A string of pearls hung around her neck giving her a more elegant look. In this new reality, she had dropped out of college, gotten married at 21, and had become a stay at home mom. However, after her children had grown up and moved out of the house, she had discovered that her husband was cheating on her with a younger woman. She was in the process of divorcing his worthless ass and had decided to go back to school and finish her accounting degree. When she had arrived at the university, she had developed a new sexual preference for college age boys and was now a self-identified cougar. She thought about this as she pushed her body closer to her date and began to stick her tongue down his throat.
Similar backstories were being constructed in the minds of the rest of the woman in attendance. The frizzy grey-haired former co-ed was now a soccer mom who had gone back to school looking to add some excitement to her life. The former cheerleader had now worked as a high school teacher for nearly thirty years. She had gone back to school to get a doctorate in order to increase her chances of being promoted to principal. The look of innocence and youth the girls had possessed less than an hour ago had been replaced by a tired yet resolved look. These women had their eyes on two young men and knew exactly what they wanted from them. This is what I loved the most about the mental progression. You could physically age a woman all you wanted, but you couldn’t create that specific Mrs. Robinsonesque mindset without the mental changes. I watched this mindset take hold of all the former college girls in the room as they sultrily walked up to their no longer age appropriate dates. I knew the boys would be in for the time of their life tonight.
I smiled as I thought back on all the fun I had had on campus today. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already midnight. I couldn’t believe it was that late, but I guess the saying is true. Time does fly when you are having a good time.