The pill went wrong. It didn’t change me the way I wanted. The reflection in the mirror isn’t my younger self, and I don’t recognize her at all.
It wasn’t even a year ago that my whole life fell apart. I lost my home. I lost my wife. I lost my job. I lost everything and all because I was too old to change and adapt.
When I bought this pill it was with the intention of proving everyone wrong. Proving that my spirit was as young as ever, that my body was the one at fault.
The pill promised a return to youth, regaining the body that you had in college. The reality I faced after my transformation wasn’t the one that I expected.
She is so beautiful, the woman in the mirror. More beautiful than my ex, more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen. She is something beyond my expectations, and I’m having a hard time believing that she is me.
The proof is physical though, the touch and feel of her. It’s in the energy that I have now, the rush of adrenaline and excitement that makes me dress up and head out. That makes me immerse myself in that college down the street and find my way into a party to try to live to the fullest before I turn back.
And while I’m dancing I know they’re looking and I love it. I know they want me and I want to be wanted. I let this dark and handsome stranger lead me upstairs, knowing that it might be my only chance to feel all that she can feel.
But once I feel it I know that I’m lost, because she can feel things more powerfully than I have ever felt before. Because I’ve never felt so right in my life. Because it is only when I’m her that I feel alive.
Because I’ve been her once, and I’ll do anything to be her forever.
Excerpt
I slipped into the outfit and the shoes and put on my mask, looking at myself in the mirror and marveling at the sight of it.
I looked good, the lace was just see-through enough to give the implication of nudity without giving away too much. It left my legs on full display and was cut low enough in the front to leave plenty of cleavage out there for everyone to see.
The mask hid my identity, not that this woman had an identity at all, and when I slipped on the coat and buttoned it up I found that my smooth and toned legs were fully visible hinting at the possibility that there might be nothing beneath this coat but bare and exposed skin.
So I headed out, closing and locking the door behind me and taking on the world in this new form. Each step I took felt like a step away from the life that I had been locked into. Each step reinforced the idea in my mind that this was a real and true second chance.
But it was all ultimately temporary. When the time came that I turned back I’d turn back into him. I’d have all of his problems and all of his history. I’d be stuck in him from that point forward, because there was no way that I’d ever be able to afford this opportunity again.
And while that came with it a sort of sadness it gave me the motivation to get out there and drink up the experience in full. It gave me the confidence to walk down this street looking like her and seeing the world through her eyes.
Knowing that it was temporary made the now so much more important. I wasn’t going to waste a minute.
The campus wasn’t actually that far from my home. I was poor and that meant that homes that regularly appealed to students appealed to me as well, because as crappy as they were they were even cheaper.
It didn’t take me long to walk onto the campus proper and once I was there I found an environment that was exactly what I expected it to be.
People everywhere getting into the spirit of the season. Running about playing their tricks and enjoying their treats, drinking down life like it was going out of style.
I felt at ease among them, like I was stepping into a home that I hadn’t been in in a long time even though really I’d never been there before. I felt at peace in spite of the raucous energy and the people rushing here and there.
And I felt something else as well.
Eyes on me, everywhere I walked. People looking at me as I passed and, if I’m not mistaken, whispering after me.
I could hear them and feel their attention, their intentions clear to me with just a glance.
Because these were men looking at me. Women too, but mostly men.
And when they looked at me they looked at me like they couldn’t imagine what they were seeing. Their imaginations ran wild and their desires were as plain to see as the writing in a book.
They wanted me, each one of them. They wanted to know what was under my coat and they wanted to know who the beautiful woman in the mask was.
They wanted me, and that gave me a thrill and a taste of a power that I’d never known before.
Women have a power of a sort, or at least they always did around me. They could spin me around and make me work for them, wanting them and wanting them to have a hold on me.
Maybe it’s not the same for everyone. Maybe it comes from a root of insecurity deep within me. But from the looks they were giving me I got the sense that wasn’t right.
I think that I could do things with this body far beyond what I had ever been able to do in my old one. I think I could have all of these men eating out of the palm of my hand if I wanted to.
They desired me. They wanted me. I knew it.
It felt so good to be wanted, to be desired. To have men stare at me as I strutted through the campus.
It was a bit like they just couldn’t look away from me, like they couldn’t help themselves. Even men who were coupled up with women would cast surreptitious glances my way, hoping their partners wouldn’t notice their straying eyes.
I grinned at that, knowing that if I played my cards right I could peel them away from their ladies with the right charms and the right implication of pleasure.
But it brought up a question to mind that I had to consider seriously before this progressed any further, which was how far was I really willing to go?