Ask Miss Velvet how young you'll look when this is finished

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Your question hangs in the air between you, spoken in that breathy feminine voice that still feels alien on your tongue. Miss Velvet's expression shifts—a slow, predatory smile spreading across her features as she leans closer, her pink eyes gleaming with something between satisfaction and hunger.

"How young?" she repeats, drawing out the words. Her gloved fingers trace the softening line of your jaw, following the bone restructuring happening beneath your skin. "I'm designing you to appear approximately eighteen or nineteen. Just past adolescence. That perfect age where innocence and sexuality intersect."

She holds the mirror steady, forcing you to maintain eye contact with your changing reflection. "But here's what makes it particularly delicious, Candy—you won't just look that age. The de-aging serum I'll administer after your facial feminization completes will actually regress your cellular structure. Your skin will have the elasticity and texture of a teenager's. Your metabolism will adjust. Even the way you move will change—lighter, more energetic."

Her thumb brushes across your swelling lips. "By the time I'm finished with you tomorrow evening, anyone looking at you will see a pretty teenage girl. Fresh-faced. Vulnerable. The kind of girl who gets carded at bars and still gets mistaken for a high school student."

"That's over fifteen years," you whisper, horror creeping into your voice. "You're taking away fifteen years."

"More than that, actually," Miss Velvet corrects, clearly enjoying your reaction. "The hormonal treatments and body feminization will compound the effect. I'm estimating you'll appear sixteen to eighteen once everything settles. Possibly younger depending on how your body responds to the final stages."

She releases the mirror momentarily to retrieve her tablet, pulling up reference images. "These are my last three successful transformations." She shows you photographs of beautiful young women, each appearing barely out of their teens. "David became Diana—she appears eighteen now. Marcus became Melody—she could pass for seventeen. And Thomas became Tessa—she's the youngest-looking at barely sixteen."

"I thought you said eighteen," you manage.

"I said approximately eighteen or nineteen is what I'm designing you for," Miss Velvet clarifies, setting the tablet aside. "But bodies respond differently. You might end up looking a bit younger. Or exactly as planned. Either way, Candy, you're going to be my pretty little teenage plaything." Her fingers return to stroking your hair. "And that youthful appearance will make your complete dependence on me all the more intoxicating."