Viral Second Puberty - Part Two

Holding the paper up to the white fluorescent light the doctor inspects the results, exhaling a little as he turns to me.

"It looks like you have an Early On-Set Milf Variant" the young doctor mutters, double-checking his work with a sharp hiss. "I'm...sorry..." he continues, taking a set away out of the fear of catching such a life-altering variant.

My stomach would sink with it weren't churning and threatening to upturn its contents, my blood would run cold with it weren't for the chills and fever already wracking my body. I'd seen people affected by this in the news, articles being written about the poor few who rapidly found themselves losing anywhere from twenty to thirty years of their lives.

Viral Second Puberty - Part One

Slumped over the doctor's office I fidget in my seat. With each of my wheezing breaths I feel the cloying moisture rise up from my mask, my feverish flushed face only growing more uncomfortably warm the longer I'm left waiting for the doctor to come to check on me.

The moment I had come into the waiting room, rugged up and sweating profusely beneath the heavy layers, I had quickly been ushered into a private room. The receptionists had kept their distance, quickly outfitting themselves with plastic face shields and rubber gloves as they lead me to a quiet and isolated wing of the practice.

It had started only a day or two ago, a bit of the sniffles combined with a slight headache. I had been having trouble sleeping beforehand, leading me to chalk it all up to my immune system being thrown for a loop by the wildly varying amounts of rest. However, by the next day my whole body ached as sweat poured from my searing hot forehead. I'd called a doctor immediately, describing my symptoms as best as I could. Thankfully, and worryingly, I had been given an emergency appointment for the next day as I was warned to drink plenty of water and stay away from others.

Out of Time - Part Eleven

As my eyes drift to the window opposite my own I catch movement. As the figure comes into view I gasp out loud as I see my cousin Tara, her shocked eyes locked to my chest as a tent forms in her jeans.

Her mouth is completely agape, her soft bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as she stares unblinkingly through the window. Her large doe-like eyes, once a bright hazel like her father's, shimmer a deep emerald as tears begin to form in their corners. Long flowing brunette hair dances around her in a frizzy mane, her dirty ill-fitting clothes making it look like she had gone to Nostalg-Co with little effort put into her outfit.

Her top is simply one large gray hoodie over what looks like another darker gray shirt, each of the two items sporting a series of stains from a mixture of food and paint. Thick strands of her hair drape down all the way to her small flat behind, the shape of which is entirely obscured by a pair of dirty jeans that appear several sizes too large. The oversized blue denim looks well worn, with large patches of the material appearing to be practically threadbare. Despite the tent-like nature of her pants I watch in terror as I see something shift inside of them, a bulge rapidly growing larger and larger by the second.

Out of Time - Part Ten

My mother stands next to the bay window, gesturing to a large collection of tight revealing clothing with a purse full of condoms.

My jaw drops as I stare at the rough pile of various clothes resting by the window atop a pile of small comfortable-looking cushions. Tube tops, crop tops, tight sweaters with plunging necklines, and short shimmering satin dresses only begin to describe what Amy had simply discarded into a loose laundry pile. Tight pencil skirts, teeny tiny denim shorts, clingy lycra athletic wear, and long sheer stockings complete the lower half of my new collection.

A terrified squeal escapes my lips as my eyes drift to the right, to the space between the pile and one of the larger royal purple pillows. A small black leather purse sits nestled in the tiny space, aesthetic silver chains dangling from the bag and over the edge of the little seat in the windowsill. The handbag itself had toppled over, the contents spilling out onto the plush carpeted floor. My hands fly from my overflowing chest to cover my mouth in shock, the sight of the torn condom wrappers along with ones still clean and ready for use sending shivers down my spine.

Out of Time - Part Nine

"Oh sweetheart, it'll be over soon. Don't worry, just breathe and give it a minute. Soon you'll have your own pair of..." my mother coos before pausing, her thins lips twisting into a sour expression as she finally reaches my cup size. "H-Cups!?" she squeals, throwing the satin bra at the ground in frustration.

"What!?" I scream back, clutching at my chest as the pain only grows more and more severe.

A shiver runs down my spine as I feel the first makings of my new breasts form in the palms of my hands. The various penny-sized lumps beneath my skin begin to form together, creating a set of firm bumps sticking out from my chest. The feeling of the tiny A-cups in my hands makes my stomach churn as I feel like I'm about to vomit, the sensation only growing worse as I feel more of the tiny fatty globs bubble up from parts unknown to add themselves to the mass.

Out of Time - Part Eight

Leaning forwards I try to look down the hall and into the other bedroom, eager to see who the hell she was talking to. After a few moments, I watch as my mom waddles out of the bedroom, her eyes wide as she stares at Stacy.

The color drains from my face as I see her, the squat overweight elderly woman whom I'd called my mom standing with a shocked look spread across of chubby wrinkled face. Her mouth falls agape as she stares up at her taller and surprisingly youthful sister, barely moving as Stacy reaches around her and pulls my mother into a tight hug. Stacy quickly begins to shower my mother's blemished pale skin with wet smothering kisses, causing my mom to writhe and wriggle as she attempts to escape her sister's grasp.

"Don't...be...like...that...my...little angel" Stacy coos between each of her overbearing acts of affection. "Ooooooh I'm going to miss you both so..." she continues, pausing as her hands begin to explore and squeeze my mom's flabby body.

Out of Time - Part Seven

My eyes lock onto Dayle, hoping that maintaining eye contact is the right thing to do. However, my plans change as I catch my reflection in his sunglasses. My lip quivers slightly at the sight, a soft whine rumbling up my throat as I watch my short light brown hair shift into dirty blonde hair in a messy bun held with a bright purple scrunchy.

I watch in horror as each and every strand of my hair slowly begins to extend out from my scalp, my eyes twitching in response to the pain as the long locks begin to drape down over my face and cast themselves down past my shoulders.

From the curtain of hair covering my vision I witness the once light brown hair begin to shift and shimmer, growing light blonde with some darker brown strands intermingled within them. Shaking my head from side to side I manage to get a better look of myself in Dayle's glasses again, my fists shaking as I stare at the reflection of the darker brown roots which create a gorgeous gradient and texture to my lengthening locks

Out of Time - Part Six

Staring out of the bedroom door I look towards the Master Bedroom, watching anxiously as the door swings open. I swallow hard as I waiting for someone to emerge, only to finally see Aunt Stacy, in her mid-thirties and dressed in a denim miniskirt and tube top.

My jaw drops at the sight of her. Gone are the heavy crow's feet and wrinkles dotting her sun kissed face, replaced with a tight youthful complexion accompanying her soft plump lips and sharp features. Gone is the massive sagging of her outrageously large chest, the huge perky mounds resting in her light blue tube top jiggling with each of her bouncy excitable movements. Gone are the dreary eyes and haggard expression she always seemed to wear, replaced with a bright bubbly smile as she minces out from the bedroom.

Out of Time - Part Five

My jaw drops as my vision locks to the first thing I see, my heart skipping a beat as I stare at a waitressing uniform with an accompanying dirty apron. At first glance, it was hard to tell that the thing was in fact a uniform, the tight plain white top and black pencil skirt doing little to give anything away. However, the ensemble all came together with the addition of sheer pantyhose and a little apron designed to wrap around the waist, a white little number dotted with roses and containing a small notepad for taking orders.

Out of Time - Part Four

"Paul?" I mutter under my breath, my mind racing to piece everything together as I pass by more rooms including a Master bedroom and two more rooms with single beds. Before I can get a good look at any of these new spaces I find myself getting wrenched to the right, hurling my disoriented form into a relatively large room nestled in the front left hand corner of the house.

The world spins around me as I tumble through the door, a flash of color reaching my vision before I slam face first into the bed and my vision goes black.

Out of Time - Part Three

As if something had heard my silent pleas I feel myself slowing to a complete stop, my head spinning as I look down at my Aunt's old house.

I could barely remember the lavish property, having only seen it in old pictures of my Aunt in your youth. It had been bought by her first husband's parents as a wedding gift for the happy, albeit short-lived, happy couple. While my mom and dad had to work hard to afford their old home far out into the suburbs, with little to no help from either of their families, the wealth inherent in my Aunt's temporary in-laws oozed from every corner of the property.

Out of Time - Part Two

Through the shifting shape of my limbs I make out something in the distance, a faint faraway light that appears to be growing ever so slowly as I hurtle towards it. For a moment I think that it will take me forever to reach whatever it was at my current speed, however, after only a few seconds I watch as it rapidly begins to grow in size.

What had once been just a tiny speck in the distance quickly grows to a decent size, the image of planet Earth filling the empty void as small lights begin to flicker into existence in the black inky space. As the curve of the Earth becomes visible beyond the edges of my braced arms I finally realize just how quickly I was truly moving, the light having not been tiny but rather massive and impossibly far away when I started.

Out of Time - Part One

Standing with my mask on and covered head-to-toe in thick heavy clothing I stand shivering in the long line, the end of which stretches well out of sight down the street and around the corner of the block. We were all here for the same reason, for one of the many overbooked appointments at Nostalg-Co to discuss undergoing their increasingly popular procedure.

Mid-pandemic, in the grips of an economic downturn and a climate crisis, people wanted to escape. While there was nowhere to escape to, with the help of Nostalg-Co there was hopefully a when.

Out of Time - Prologue

 

With people standing six feet apart it is easy to see how the line wraps around the street, prospective clients shuffling awkwardly in the winter chill in the hopes of getting to see someone today and to avoid a similar wait tomorrow. Slowly but surely the line trudges on at a snail's pace, the massive demand overwhelming the incredibly small number of clinics that could offer this strange new service.

Around a year ago, a new patent was filled by a freshly incorporated business. This company, Nostalg-Co, claimed to have done the impossible, sending someone back through time. While the news quickly picked up on the story, reporting it as some kind of futuristic time machine, the reality was far more restrictive. Regardless, with the perception of our future growing darker and darker with the pandemic ravaging the world, young people feeling trapped under today's economy, and each successive climate disaster making the outlook appear more and more bleak people began to line up around the block to have a chance at going back to a more optimistic era.

The demand had become so high that governments around the world had to get involved. However, rather than limiting the procedure or restricting access, they pushed for a greater rollout as an easier way of combating the social problems of the day. Before long clinics had begun to pop up around the country, each one with the same simple, albeit confusing slogan;

NOSTALG-CO: FOR A NEW OLD YOU