Sophie's Premature Ageing (AP, DG, IQ-) Violet-C

[Camille]

Excellent beginning, can't wait to see more. I simply love self-inflicted and slow transformation stories. Age regression is a favourite of mine and there is so little good material out there. One possible concern I have is "IQ-" in the story description. Assuming that means "IQ reduction"? Will the main character become dumb as part of her transformation? You are the author of course so up to you how you want to handle that, but that one may be difficult to pull off.

[summertime]

Excellent beginning, can't wait to see more. I simply love self-inflicted and slow transformation stories. Age regression is a favourite of mine and there is so little good material out there. One possible concern I have is "IQ-" in the story description. Assuming that means "IQ reduction"? Will the main character become dumb as part of her transformation? You are the author of course so up to you how you want to handle that, but that one may be difficult to pull off.

I find a reduction in IQ is often not addressed correctly, "Susan's Procedure" is an example but because Susan had little realisation of what had happened that part failed, in my opinion, there was another but the title escapes me and so far I haven't found in in my library but a rich employer changed places with her maid also losing her ability to learn but still understood the consequences which worked well.

I think with Sophie, the IQ reduction will be other people's perception that comes with the ageing process which would be interesting to explore, but after Annabelle I'm sure the end result will be an exciting read.

[Violet-C]

Part 2

Italy had been absolutely fantastic and she couldn't remember ever having had a better holiday. Strangely though, as much fun as she’d had, the time had still dragged, as if anything, the desire to start her transformation had grown stronger throughout her stay.

But there had certainly been times when it had completely slipped from her mind as she had forgotten how wealthy her long-time friend Amanda actually was. They had the most gorgeous villa a few miles from Sienna in the heart of Chianti-shire and when they weren’t by the pool they were taking day trips to Florence, Sienna or the many other historic Tuscan towns.

Amanda and her had also spent a few days in Rome together, staying in a small hotel and it reminded them both of their time staying there when they were not exactly poor, but at least as pre-University teenagers.

She was suddenly woken from her half dream by the stewardess reminding her to fasten her seat belt. They were about to land at Heathrow. She folded her table away and slipped her notebook into her Mulberry bag below her seat. The flight had been the first time that she’d been able to make notes on her plans since she’d left home, as her shopping lists and ideas would have looked rather strange if Amanda had spotted it.

It contained such particularly strange items as: Grannie perfume (she hadn't decided on a brand yet), grey curly wig, grannie glasses as well as support tights, sandals and sensible shoes. She’d underlined the word sensible, although flat shoes were in and were items she wore more and more, there was still something particularly old fashioned about the ones she had in mind from her Internet research!

When she got home she was also delighted to see that yesterday the email she’d been desperate to receive from Sam Griffiths about her request to meet had been received. Sophie had written and re-written the email about 10 times before she had finally pressed send and it had taken Sam three days to reply. She had started to believe that her email had been ignored or possibly not reached her and she wasn’t looking forward to having to call her, despite Jenny having given her both her mobile and email. Somehow she felt she could hide behind the email if the response had been negative.

But she needn’t have worried, the reply when it came couldn't have been friendlier or more positive in its tone. Sam was very apologetic for the delay in replying but she wanted to speak to her boss, Justin the business’s owner first, but he’d been away on holiday in Barcelona with his boyfriend and she didn’t want to send an email about what could have seemed like a strange request, but he was now back and was very willing to meet her as well, but did warn her that it wouldn't be cheap. However there was no indication of price. Sam had a dreadful moment of fear that Sam may have given him her name and portrayed her as some absolute weirdo, but realistically from the email it looked genuine.

Anyway she knew now that the dye was cast and barring any unforeseeable disasters she was beginning to realize that this crazy and now what seemed very frightening prospect was going to happen and that on Monday she would be phoning Sam to confirm their meeting for coffee. She didn’t know if Justin would be there as she rather hoped to be able to meet Sam alone first.

At 2.30pm on Tuesday, Sophie walked into the Costa Coffee in Camden and as soon as she walked in Sam got up to greet her. Sam had obviously researched her on-line. Sam gave her an overly enthusiastic affectionate hug and kissed her as if she was her oldest friend. She had a slight hint of a Welsh accent and was absolutely gorgeous. She probably stood a couple of inches taller than Sophie with a mop of shoulder length curly dirty blond hair. She was slim with gorgeous boobs and a very friendly smile. Somehow she managed to instantly put Sophie at ease in a meeting that she was eagerly awaiting but also petrified of, in equal measures. In fact, her easy charm reminded her forcefully of her mother Jenny, Sophie thought to herself how could I have ever thought I might not like this girl!

Sam insisted on buying and asked what she wanted and when Sophie asked for a flat white, Sam sarcastically replied – “Very 21st century, I thought you might be more of a wartime girl, possibly re-using a teabag for the 10th time”. We both laughed, but she was right and I instantly thought that yes, when in my new character there would be no more flat whites or espressos, it would be weak milky tea and I might also have to start taking sugar – urggh!

We chatted and got on amazingly well and I was surprised to hear how often her mother had mentioned me and how much she liked me and that despite of my wealth I’d had a tough few years, but she knew I could really achieve whatever I wanted.

I explained my idea, trying not to sound like a complete nutcase and also trying to play up her mother’s part in it so I could half blame her if I panicked and decided to pull out. We talked for ages and some of what we said must have been heard by other customers and although I tried to be as discrete as I could, there was no doubting that the girl on the next table was only pretending to be texting like crazy and was desperate to catch every word we said. When she got up to leave I half expected her to say bye-bye Grandma, but thankfully she just picked up her backpack put her headphones in and left.

With that, Sam said, “So, shall we get on with it and meet Justin. He’s desperate to meet you and the office is only about 10 minutes walk from here!”

“Yes I guess so, better now than never” I responded trying to hide my nerves.

We walked up past Camden Lock market passing all the Goths and Punks, and I couldn’t help thinking how out of place I looked and how even more unusual I would seem in this environment beneath my disguise.

We arrived at Sam’s office, a converted railway arch and I was warmly greeted by Zoe, the very on-trend and heavily tattooed receptionist who had heard all about me! At that moment I could have murdered Sam, but I suppose she could hardly be expected to make my disguise in total secrecy. Sam said she’d go and get Justin and left me with Zoe who was obviously a lot less scary than her image and told me how impressed she was that I was a Doctor and congratulated me. I could feel myself blushing and thanked her whilst I looked at some of the photos of the amazing creations they had developed around the room.

With that Justin and Sam arrived in reception. Justin was so perfect in every-way, I would have guessed instantly that he was gay without Sam having told me. He was tall, very muscular with a white t-shirt that was so tight you could see his abs, perfect jeans, a deep tan and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen, topped off with immaculate jet black hair.

“Sophie!” he greeted me.

“I’m delighted to meet you, what a brave woman you are!” and he kissed me both cheeks. He smelt amazing and said let’s go into the conference room.

The conference room was white with plenty of high tech facilities and more examples of their work on the walls, only whereas in reception they appeared to be mostly sci-fi and horror type images here they were much more realistic with a number of pictures of famous actresses transformed from high glam into elderly women exactly as I had in mind.

“Anything to drink?” Justin asked.

“Just water please” I replied and he turned to the small fridge and got glasses and bottles for all of us.

Then he announced,

“So I hear you want to be a glamorous Gran?” looking at me with a big grin.
I took a deep breath before replying actually, “No”. I tried to sound as sane as I could, talking about my geriatric social studies specialism and how glamorous grans as he called them didn’t need help from people like me at all. They probably had generous pensions and houses in Kensington and holidayed in Florida or southern Spain.

The ones I had in mind were possibly in at least the first stages of dementia, struggling to get by on a State pension, probably had various health issues, were widowed, lonely and were far more likely to look like Dot Cotton from Eastenders than Jane Fonda. They were also probably still fiercely house-proud of what was possibly their local authority owned home and had lost all hope of preserving their looks.

The more I spoke the more impassioned I became but I also realized this wasn’t just about my research I definitely had some indescribable sexual urge to become this elderly downtrodden woman ignored by most passers-by and in London, probably by all her neighbours as well.

“Wow!” he simply said, followed by

“It will not be cheap but if you want to do it and can afford to pay for it, we’re on board”

I was speechless and could have hugged him, but somehow, managing to retain an element of my dignity asked him what it would involve and how long would it take and perhaps most importantly of all, cost?

We must have spoken for about an hour when he apologized and said he had to join a conference call as Hollywood was now on line, but he kissed me again and thought I was quite remarkable and very brave.

We’d discussed all the various options, body casts, masks, casts of my feet and hands and he explained that I would have to buy a wig and in fact that would be the main thing that would help them create the character. Also any photos of elderly women that fitted the image I had in mind.

He promised to email me all the options and a full range of prices the next day, but depending on level of detail I required and quality of materials, it would be £6,000 minimum and possibly double that for reusable items that would actually prove cheaper over time but also would be virtually indistinguishable from bare flesh. He also highlighted that my skin could react to the silicon glues meaning they would possibly have to cancel and that I’d need to be extremely careful removing the prosthetics to get multiple uses and would need to moisturize like never before. I’d also have to sign a waiver saying I understood all the potential health risks.

With that, he was gone and I tried to come down from Cloud 9 and make small talk with Sam. After a few minutes more I said I should leave and she told me that the moment she left work, she would phone her Mum who undoubtedly would be on the phone to me ASAP.

[Mars]

Nice update, intriguing to see details of the scheme come together- though I wonder if it will all go according to Sophie's plan? Eagerly awaiting Part 3!

[blurmy]

Part 2 has me eager for more, can't wait for Sophie's transformation.

[avocat27]

This is off to a great start! The story is pushing a number of my buttons- eagerly awaiting more. The switch from third person to first person is a little jarring- you should decide which works best for you and stick to it.

[Junketh71]

This was interesting. Thanks for the new update.

[Violet-C]

Part 3

The next day I got out of bed at 7 having tossed and turned all night unable to sleep a wink due to my nervous excitement. I needed to get to the gym; only hard physical activity was going to stop my mind from wandering.

The gym was great, I couldn’t remember when I'd worked out so hard and then I had a sauna and showered before returning home for a light salad lunch.

Maria the part-time cleaner was there when I arrived back and I chatted to her, mind racing, not really listening to a word she said in her heavily accented English. I was going to have to be very careful hiding everything from her. I had a pretty good idea that she tried on some of my more expensive shoes when I was out and didn’t want her to suddenly come across a wardrobe of grannie wear, least of all a latex mask and bodysuit. Anyway those concerns could wait for now, I needed to get on-line, check my emails and surf the net.

Just as I logged on, Jenny rang. She congratulated me on my decision and told me I was such a brave young woman and doing great work and I only had to ask if I needed anything from Sam or her. She also remarked that Sam had really liked me and that she was totally reliable and being local would always make the effort to help her aging Grandmother!

With that I heard the familiar ping of a new email arriving, and there it was from Justin. I was so nervous I almost hit delete by accident. It was pretty lengthy with four attachments. One was the medical waiver, a proposed list of alternative product options with prices, their standard terms and conditions and a form for me to complete with my measurements, although it said they would also take these at the first fitting appointment.

I’d forgotten that of course businesses always quote prices exclusive of VAT so with that I couldn’t realistically see it coming to less than £14,000 but I knew that even at this stage I couldn't resist. I was being drawn to this like the proverbial moth to the flame. I read his email about three times and filled in all the required information, I then logged into my on-line accounts and transferred £20,000 into the current account. I knew that was far more than I’d need, but however cheap my wardrobe was going to be everything would add up and I thought I should get two wigs that would be roughly £250 each.

I then phoned and spoke to Justin who put Tim, his main cast-maker and Sam on the line. Tim obviously also knew all about me. I must have been the main talking point of the office for the last 24 hours! I was told Tim would be in charge of their “little project” as I was referred to and that Sam would be my main point of contact and his assistant. We agreed the following Monday afternoon for an appointment for moulds to be taken. I was told that it may well run into the evening to complete everything, but that with luck the first fitting would be around the middle of the following week. So I was only two weeks away from becoming a new person, things were happening so fast, but I still wasn’t sure if I could wait even that long. He told me other than the wig to not buy any clothes as they’d measure me after I was wearing the suit, but I would probably end up two sizes bigger than my actual size so would go from a slim UK size 8 -10 to a plump, possibly matronly but not fat size 14. That sounded good to me. I didn’t want to be so big that people would notice me but I wanted my new body to feel different enough.

I was also reminded to wear loose fitting clothing and that I would have to remove all my jewelry and make-up – it was so exciting. Whilst we were speaking I emailed them a link to the wig I’d chosen and the reaction was quite something. They were very impressed that I’d gone for a silver permed number called “Elegance” a style that was never likely to be seen on a woman under the age of 80 these days. Tim remarked that that was exactly what they needed to create the exact body and face of the woman for that hair! He also mentioned one or two surprising and slightly off-putting things. He suggested I buy a pair of unfashionable ladies spectacles, ideally with a fairly large lens area as that would help cover my face. He said I could buy them on-line and gave me the details of a supplier that specialized in speciality specs especially for the theatre and TV. He said that assuming I didn’t need glasses, which I didn’t then I should get plastic lenses as they would be a little thicker giving the impression I had poor eyesight and also to ask for the lenses to be split at the bottom third, so creating the impression of bifocals which most elderly people require.

His second suggestion was a little more disturbing. He reminded me that as we get older our ears tend to stretch and so he intended to build latex ears into my face mask but they would need to be fairly thick to both cover my own ears and have the strength and feel required. Unfortunately the thickness required to support my new bigger lobe, especially if I were to wear clip-on earrings would mean that I would end up, if not exactly deaf, but with severely reduced hearing. He also stated the obvious, that hearing aids are not something that anyone choses as a fashion accessory so it would really help with the impression I was creating. Sam then chipped in with the fact that a friend of hers needed hearing aids and hers were so small you could barely see them. She followed this with the sobering remark that under no circumstances was I to buy a similar model, mine were to be an older and far more obvious. She tried to soften the blow by adding that the older ones will be really cheap on-line these days.

“Great, that’s a real bonus!” I sarcastically responded, beginning to wonder if I was already getting into this far more deeply than I’d originally intended. The thought of walking around London with a hearing aid whistling in my ear or failing and wandering around practically stone deaf was not overly appealing.

I thanked them and immediately hit “Add to Cart” for two of those wigs, paid and daydreamed the rest of the day away in a state of near blissful ecstasy.

By the next day my excitement was too much to ignore. I couldn’t wait for my bodysuit to be completed but needed to start getting into my new role immediately. I intended hitting the charity shops in town and buying a few items to at least have some fun starting my transformation and made an immediate list of essential purchases: An old floral style blouse, a cardigan in ideally beige or pink, a patterned skirt, granny shoes a coat or anorak hopefully totally devoid of any style and some handbag or shoulder bag that was clearly fake leather. I imagined that visits to two or three charity should cover all those items. To this I added Boot’s the chemists for a pale pink lipstick and blusher and pale face powder. I also intended to buy two pairs of light tan support tights, ideally, 60 denier and a cheap purse.

By three that afternoon I returned arms laden with the most tasteless and tired clothes I could ever imagine buying. None were scruffy and they would perfectly suit a rather down at heel old lady but even new none had been top of the range items. I was especially fond of the navy blue shoes I’d bought, they had rubber soled wedge heels going up to approximately an inch high and the front detail was covered in very small perforations and they were so soft to wear.

I had hoped to try them all on as soon as I got back but forced myself to wait until the wig and glasses arrived to give myself a massive hit of the new me. I spent the rest of the day trying to perfect my new older voice and tries to keep repeating the words I thought most appropriate such as “thank you dear”, “hello dearie” and “hello young man” to be used on every male up to the age of 65!

I also spent some time looking at old family photos of my grandmother and looking at old records when I had an absolute brainwave. My grandmother had had a younger sister who died as a very young child during the war. She obviously never married so her name would have been McManus, Mildred McManus, I didn't know if she had a second name but I had their old address at the time in West Ham in the east end, I knew her parents names so I would send off on-line for a copy birth certificate. My guess was that if still alive she’d be about 75 now, which would be perfect!

Then by looking at Transport for London’s website I realized that the birth certificate would be all I needed along with a passport style photo to get a free travel pass. I suppose it was technically fraud, but what were they actually going to do with me if caught and I would always try to claim it was for research purposes which was technically quite true. I’d get he photos taken as soon as my disguise was completed. This was getting so exciting!

[summertime]

I agree with Sophie, this is getting exciting

[blurmy]

Another great entry, you're doing a brilliant job.