What age does your fantasy partner appear to be? Will they continue to age? (Note, it is ethically and biologically impossible to reverse age below a certain threshold. If you would like to know the lower limits, please do not continue your application as

What age does your fantasy partner appear to be? Will they continue to age? (Note, it is ethically and biologically impossible to reverse age below a certain threshold. If you would like to know the lower limits, please do not continue your application as we believe the limit should be obvious.)

***

Charlie hadn’t even wanted to go to the burlesque workshop after his text conversation with Tori. It stressed him out so bad. He knew she was angry, but couldn’t do anything but stare and jerk off to the approved porn. If he did a video call and did phone sex, he knew for certain his pills would start trying to model off her.

By the time the drunk-burst hit him, signalling the last of the living serum in his body being expended, he was exhausted and stressed out. But it worked!

His chest was undeniably fatter. Nowhere near filling the B-cup bra he’d stolen from Tori’s collection, but the changes would become more pronounced after sleep. Another two days of normal doses and he’d be outgrowing the one that was so loose on him, now. His whole body was smooth, too. He’d shaved it all the other day and itchy stubble had been reamerging since yesterday. But now all the hair had shed, leaving small little hairs littering the floor around the desk.

And his dick… eight hours ago he was six inches fully hard. Now he was six and three-quarters. Though it was quite hard to measure an erect length as an erection became harder and harder to achieve. Blessedly, very little of the size changed when it softened. Some of that difficulty was probably due to marathon masturbating for eight hours. But more likely it had to do with the soft-cocked flaccid futa porn he’d watched.

The most noticeable change by the end of it all was his hair. It had grown probably a whole inch. Annoying him as he kept having to push it out of his eyes. It was lush and felt softer than before, though he couldn’t tell if that was his hands being soft or his hair.

The changes were going to become more pronounced, tomorrow, after he had a night’s rest. With the blanket off his head, he could hear rain pattering outside. Sensing the anxiety within himself when he looked at his phone, he decided to take a moment for himself outside and on the back porch. He tossed on a hoodie and sweatpants and walked out to sit on one of the deck chairs overlooking the lake.

Charlie always loved the rain. The way it felt on his skin, the way it smelled, the noises it made. He didn’t care for sunny days or snow. A gentle rain and cool, grey skies was his ideal.

You can’t blame her for being angry. He reminded himself, looking at his phone on the table next to him. She’s really trying to make it work. And she doesn’t know what you’re doing. For her or to her.

Still, he didn’t want to call. He was still so sad. He was trying to fix himself. He was giving her the perfect partner, and she couldn’t wait for a few hours for phone sex?

But the worst was that she was angry now. But if she knew his reasons, she’d go right back into her self-hating ‘punish me’ mode. He wanted to tell her. Call her and spill the beans about the fetish pills. Send her his answers to the questionnaire.

But watching her try to fit in those pants was so hot… She was so confused. So oblivious. For years Tori and Mary and their gaggle of friends mocked every sign he missed. Ridiculed the irony of him kissing lips that’s just eaten another girl out. Played with his naive trust like it was another sex toy for their affair.

There wasn’t any way on Earth Tori could ever make up for that kind of betrayal. She tried. She really had. But Charlie just couldn’t bring himself to clean up a mess he had no part in making. He didn’t do anything wrong. So, like every other relationship problem they’d had, Charlie was going to help her out.

Her pills were like him pouring some milk onto the puddle she made so they could decide whether or not they were gonna clean it up together. His pills were his leverage. Tori could go find someone else—Mary’d be happy to have her and she had a great career waiting for her to ditch him. But if she wanted by, her own admission, perfection? She had to stay and clean up the mess with him.

He didn’t like thinking the way Tori did. But he knew that if he pulled this off, he’d never need to worry again. He could feel safe and secure again. Like he used to. All he ever wanted was Tori, was it so bad to not want that to hurt so much?

Thunder cracked on the far side of the lake, the boom near instant. Charlie leapt out of his chair, grabbing his phone and heading inside. The rain intensified and he panted, recovering from the shock in the kitchen. His phone buzzed and he had been relieved to see it wasn’t Tori.

It was a weather alert. Shelter in place until at least midnight. Well, at least he didn’t have to go to Burlesque lessons this evening when he felt so lousy. He’d never even considered cancelling, knowing what that would do to Gina’s confidence. Still, he picked up the phone and sent her a text explaining, even though she got the same alert. He hovered over to his conversation with Tori, thumb lowering to open their texts, but ultimately stopping.

He was going to eat, first. Put on some candles for lighting, play some jazz while he cooked some food, and enjoy the beauty of rain tapping the windows in his little house in the pretty Oregon woods. Maybe a shower first, too…

He slowly swayed away from his record player and into the kitchen to the sound of Louis Armstrong’s trumpet. Candles and very soft and warm lights were the only illumination he had as he began humming along to the music.

Damn… when was the last time I did this? He wondered, dancing with himself as he cut tomatoes. He felt her body press against his back, lips giggling at his earlobes as the sound of dripping water echoed in a bucket in the living room of their shitty Portland apartment.

“You’re so corny.”

“Careful, I have a knife.”

She spun him around and put her hands around his hips. The two of them just swayed for a while, foreheads pressed together. “Hey… thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m gonna make this up to you, one day.”

“Make this up to me?”

“When I finish my masters and become some filthy rich executive somewhere. I’m gonna pay for everything, and cook you meals while you grade, and pretend I know how to patch a leaky roof…”

They giggled together, swaying to the music. “It needed more time to dry.”He had admitted. “But Love, there’s nothing to make up for. I’m your partner. And I can’t say how much I’m gonna cherish these memories of cooking you food in a leaky apartment while you study.”

She put her head on his shoulder and they kept swaying. He wanted to stay like that forever. “D’you ever want kids?”

“Huh? No, I don’t think so.”

“But everyone at your school says you’re so good with them. You’d make a good dad, I think.”

“They’re high schoolers. Wh-where is this coming from? Are you reconsidering wanting kids?”

“God, no. Idunno, I’m just thinking about the future, I guess.”

“I do wanna get married at some point.” He had shrugged after a long moment. She pushed away instantly, looking at him with this crazed look, nearly in tears. “Whoah! Sorry, I thought we were just talking about… Do you not want that? W-with me?”

“N—y—I don’t know! Fuck, I hadn’t thought about it, ok?”

“Why are you freaking out? It seems less heavy than kids, don’t you think?”

“No! No, it’s not. Kids aren’t a possibility right now with my birth control and your vasectomy. But marriage is a real thing. A-and this is freaking me out, ok?”

He had just nodded, folding his hands in front of him and trying to hide how hurt he was. He wasn’t going to push. He had just wanted to cook her a nice romantic dinner before her finals week.

“I-I want a career! It’s my dream.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why… all of this.” He gestured to her textbooks he organized for her, the flashcards he helped her study, and the meal he was cooking. “Are we… not in it for the long haul? Were you planning to leave once school was over?”

“I… but…” Her eyes had grown wide with panic. “Are we in love!?”

“I thought we were.” Charlie sucked in a shaky breath. He knew she was too good for him. “I just thought, earlier, what you described sounded a lot like being married. So I figured, you know, one day when you found the time between getting your masters and becoming a CEO, we’d do it.”

He didn’t understand. She’d told him ‘I love you’ a million times. And he’d said it to her twice as much. Her question and her surprise seemed so out of nowhere. They’d been dating for two years, living together for one. He taught during the day and paid the bills so she could focus on getting her masters and starting her career.

She wiped tears from her eyes, hardening her expression. “My words aren’t coming out, right. I didn’t realize that I’ve never loved anybody before. I always said ‘I love you,’ because that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends say. I don’t even know when I actually started to mean it, but apparently I mean it when I say it to you and that freaks me out! Because I never believed anyone who said there was a perfect match, but now I know it’s real and now if I fuck it up I lose it forever!”

He started crying, too. Her words were a jumble, but he got the sentiment. She loved him. Truly. And there wasn’t anybody else she’d ever felt it with.

She fell to a knee, but then quickly stood up, wiping her eyes and grabbing his hands. “I don’t want to take anyone’s last name. I’m scared.”

“I can be Charlie Washington.”

“I love you so much.” She fell to a knee, but stood up again. “I don’t have a ring. Fuck, I should have left this to you. You were always better at this romantic shit.”

“Fuck the ring, Tori. Say it.”

She was **** on her tears, but nodded. Her hand pressed to his heart, beating her palm on his chest. “Mine.” She managed to say, dropping to her knee. He had dropped down beside her, pulling her into a tight hug as they cradled each other.

“Yes.” He sobbed, pulling her in for a kiss. They had stayed hugging on the floor for a while, calming each other down and relishing in their emotions.

“I’m horny.” She finally said, prompting him to stand up and wipe his eyes. When he opened them, she was no longer in front of him. He turned to the couch, but she wasn’t there. He turned back to the counter and saw her naked, bouncing herself on a strap on in Mary’s lap. Mary sat happily on the counter, staring Charlie in the eyes as she groped his wife’s tits.

“Mine, crybaby.” She laughed.

“This pussy belongs to you! Oh, fuck me! Fuck your pussy!”

Charlie was punted out of his day dream, finding his clenched fist holding a knife that was now embedded in the wooden cutting board he’d made as a gift for Tori. Left with just the sound of the rain and Louis’ Armstrong’s gravely voice.

“But when you’re crying

You bring on the rain

So stop your sighing,

Be happy again.”

The fucking dream rewiring… “What the fuck am I doing?” He said out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “What the fuck am I doing?” He couldn’t do this to her. Is that what he wanted her to feel? That betrayal? Maybe she could do something so cruel to someone she loved, but he couldn’t. At least her affair wasn’t about trying to hurt him. But him? This was all about hurting her.

He was so ashamed at his malicious deeds. This wasn’t him. It wasn’t right. He was going to put an end to this madness. Come clean and try to find a way to get Jens to reverse the process at least for her. He’d accept his fate. It would be his penance. If his love wasn’t enough for her to be satisfied, then maybe it was best that they part. Because that’s all he had to offer.

He picked up his phone with a shaky hand, thunder striking the lake. He looked through teary eyes to navigate to her contact page and pressed the call button.

Three short beeps. The call didn’t connect.

He tried again. Then again. He looked at the bars at the top of his screen. The storm had denied him service.

He was left to sit with everything he had done. Everything he couldn’t even hope to stop until tomorrow at the earliest. As he curled into a ball on the kitchen floor, he wondered if Tori ever had a similar moment during the early days of her affair.

He would have liked to think that she never had. It was easier to think that she was just obliviously self-absorbed rather than to have felt such moral pain and still have chosen to continue.