Age reduction, and more

"I want you to please be twenty-five years younger."

The look that passed over her face gave me pause. I realized that this would likely be much more difficult for her than simply changing hair color. She started hyperventilating, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving, her hands balled into fists so tight I could see a small trickle of blood leak out. Her legs began shaking and she fell to her knees, one hand on her chest and the other on the ground in front of her. Her sagging tits hung low beneath her.

I got out of my seat and knelt down in front of her, ready to call it off, when I saw the skin of her back ripple. Like a stone thrown into a clear lake, a small wave rolled out from her neck and passed over her back. The skin it left behind was tighter, less pallid, healthier. Her hair shimmered to a brighter shine and became a uniform strawberry blonde. Her musculature was... different, not any stronger, but with certain muscles more visible now compared to others. As I watched, her shaking stopped and her breathing became more regular, though still labored. She looked up at me and I could see a dramatic change in her face. Her cheeks were high and full of color, lips smooth and plump, eyes no longer baggy. I assumed she had been in her early fifties, and indeed, the woman before looked to be about twenty-eight or so.

That being said, she was clearly just a younger version of the Ms. Crowin I knew. She was still obese, with tits that sagged less but were still being dragged down, her breath smelling of cigarettes and her hair untrimmed. She still had the same old woman odor she'd always had. The cuts in her hands from where her fingernails had dug in were still there, and I could see that she had left a small bloodstain on my rug where she had placed a hand for support. I could deal with that later.

I gave her a hand standing up and helped her back into the chair. She smiled weakly. "I did it. Are you happy with my body?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm very happy. How do you feel?" I was being fully honest.

"Exhausted, and hungry. Starving."

That made sense. It looked like she had expended a lot of energy to do what she just did. "I understand. Wait here, please heal your hands as fast as you think you can and clean up the blood, and I'll get you something to eat."

I'd always been terrible at estimating how much pasta to cook, and for once that worked out in my favor. I had a massive tupperware of spaghetti with vodka sauce from two nights ago, and it was a simple process to throw it in the microwave. I figured Ms. Crowin would appreciate the carbs. I also grabbed a container of whey protein and began to mix up a simple banana smoothie. By the time everything was done, I had two plates of pasta and one glass of healthy fruity goodness.When I brought the plates over to the table, I realized that Ms. Crowin had left the main room and was in the bathroom. Ducking my head in, I saw her washing the last of the blood off her hands in the bathroom sink. Her cuts had completely healed. I let her know the food was ready and that she could please join me at the table as soon as she was done.

We ate quickly and quietly. I hadn't eaten since lunch, but Ms. Crowin outdid me in the appetite department, polishing off three servings and licking the plate clean once I'd ran out. The smoothie vanished in a massive gulp. She burped afterwards, and giggled in a way a woman her (new) age would.

I smiled at her. "Now how do you feel?"

"I could eat more, but I'm alright for now. I'm still tired, but I feel like I have way more energy than I did before. I could also do with a smoke." She looked around the room. "Where did I leave my ashtray?"

That would have to change. Scowling, I told her: "Whenever you have the urge to smoke, please interpret it as an urge to masturbate. Please stop smoking entirely."

"I... I actually don't think I need a smoke. I think I'm feeling..." She trailed off, glancing at me self-consciously. I noticed a flush rising in her bare chest.

"It's okay. Please, never feel like you have to hide anything from me."

"I feel horny. I don't know why, but I think I need to... relieve some tension."

I waved my hand in her direction. "By all means, do what you have to do."

Her eyes shifted back and forth between me and the table. I watched as her urges slowly got the better of her. First one, then both hands slipped below the table. Her eyes closed halfway and I saw the muscles in her arm tense repeatedly. While I couldn't see her pussy from this angle, I had a pretty good idea of what was happening.

Her motions and her breathing got a little faster. One hand came up to caress and pinch her large brown nipple, teasing and tugging at her tit as she started to moan. I stood up and strode around the small table until I was behind her. She didn't notice me until I put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to tense up, and whispered in her ear, "Without stopping, please turn out and show me what you're doing."

Ms. Crowin nodded, turning ninety degrees in her seat and spreading her legs as wide as they would go. I could see her chubby hands moving deep into herself, pushing aside her folds and thrusting quickly in and out, tits turning slightly red from the groping. Her fat jiggled with each pump, and I decided it was time to streamline things.

"Please become thinner, as thin as possible while still being healthy."

Her body began to rumble and churn as that look of concentration came over her again. The mass of her stomach was roiling, shrinking slowly, her legs making a quick slapping noise against the chair like rain on a car roof. Suddenly, Ms. Crowin's complexion turned green and she slipped the hand out of her pussy and clamped it over her mouth. She didn't seem to notice the moisture she was smearing across her face.

She stood up and moved as quickly as possible to the bathroom, not quite running but padding briskly. I followed her, concerned, and saw her lean over the toilet bowl and-

A few minutes later, a slender blonde woman with a passing resemblance to Ms. Crowin stumbled out of the bathroom. She had forcefully... expelled a large quantity of fat and, by the looks of it, some amount of muscle as well. Her hips were still broad, but every other curve had fallen away. She had almost no tits to speak of, a flat stomach with slightly articulated abs, and a prominent thigh gap. Sweat beaded on her brow and chest. I had given her some mouth wash, but she still smacked her lips as though the taste of what had just happened lingered.

There was still hair on her arms and legs and a messy bush between her legs and in her armpits, her hair was poorly kept, and she overall needed a shower, but I was ecstatic. My tests had worked, I had a better understanding of what I could order someone to do. I had ideas about how to make the process more efficient, and what steps could be skipped altogether. I also had the fruit of my labor almost ready to be enjoyed.