The Pill – by DesTodes777

Fantasy story: The Pill – by DesTodes777. Take a pill, become the animal you’ve always wanted to be. In the housing development of Mossy Oaks, the lawns were green, and the houses were huge. It was the kind of place that told of success, but that was the outside.

Fantasy story: The Pill – Chapter 1

by DesTodes777

Genres: Fantasy, Body modification, Erotica, Male / Older Female

The mailman walked down one of the sidewalks with a happy gait. Anybody that saw the man would say that the man was unseasonably happy. People in the neighborhood often only put out happiness like a mask to cover their miserable lives. It was a perfect morning as his shiny rubber sole hit the concrete of the sidewalk. He was enjoying this particular place, looking for his quarry. An old woman that he knew fit the parameters of the experiment he was conducting.

The yards were green, and trees lined the sidewalk so that the sidewalk and the road were both under the shade of a green canopy. Sprinklers were going on, and he waved and smiled at all he passed. No one stopped him or asked him what he was doing. He was just a stand-in mailman it seemed and so that explained his queer way of things. No one even bothered to notice that he skipped all the mailboxes. It was a great disguise and one quickly put together.

On his person and under an arm, he carried the signature blue pouch, but inside was only one envelope. One envelope that would change the life of the old woman he chose to bless with it. He began to whistle a tune and soon approached the house of where the subject lived.

Mailbox open and in went the manilla envelope. He hoped that the results would be good ones with this person. He turned on a heel and continued his merry way. It was time to go back to the lab to find another who would fit his strict criteria for testing. If anybody remembered him, it would be a miracle. So he left to let the story of his subject unfold.

Martha was sitting in her light blue lazy boy chair. The chair had faded over long years of use, which often was because she was knitting. The clicking of knitting needles seemed always to match the oldies that played on her radio. Here she sat, at the same time of day in the early morning, awaiting the arrival of her help.

Her help was a young boy of twenty. If she were younger with her old hot per blonde body, she would have continually offered herself to him in unabashed ways. But alas, she was in her 80’s now and withering away. Long blonde silky hair had turned gray. Wrinkled skin replaced what was before smooth and shiny light tan skin. She was beautiful even in her early 50’s, but it was gone now.

Gone like her husband, who’s absence from her life made her feel alone. Maybe that was why she liked the young help so much. He was sweet and kind to her and reminded her of her husband. Kind, caring, and handsome was the way to describe him. Seeing him alway brought a pang of desire and guilt in her, but was always crushed by an overwhelming sense of embarrassment as she grew wet on wrinkled hair lips. Often she found herself wondering why her libido had never ceased to be active over the years. So she sat in her chair, thinking of his body and regretting being old. Only solstice left to her was knitting sweaters for grandchildren who didn’t appreciate them and never visited.

The sound of a key being inserted interrupted her thoughts and made her excited. He was here, and the deadbolt turned with
a loud click. Her young knight came in, always dressed appropriately in a collard shirt and slacks. It was now one in the afternoon, and she was bursting with joy, her old heart beating hard in her chest.

“I’m here Mrs. Harper,” he said.

She was sad that her voice did his no justice as she answered him.

“I’m in here,” she answered with her shaky old voice.

In he waltzed and all smiles.

“See your knitting again. Sweater for Sarah?”

“Yea.”

“I have your mail by the way,” He said as he approached her. She dropped the needles and took the lone brown letter. The boy
walked off, and the sounds of the fridge opening made her smile. He making lunch and after that; he would clean a little and just keep her
company.

Her attention turned to the letter. The manilla envelope was ripped open within seconds.
Out popped a small bag with a weird looking shimmering blue pill and a message on cardstock.
She read the letter.

To Whom, it may concern,

Hello, my name is X. Congratulations, you have been selected for an experiment. Your husband (my condolences, he was a great man) signed you up. Inside you will find a pill. Please take it. You will see that it will be worth it. Dale wanted to offer you a grand opportunity to a happier life after he passed. He invested in my research, and I promised that if the fruit were to bare, I would consider you.

So here it is, the promise of what it will do. It will return you to a younger self and give you pleasure. If you take and don’t like the results, all you need to do is call this Number (**********). I hope you do take it and wish you luck on the adventure that awaits you. So all you have to do is think of your favorite animal and wait. Results vary on how fast the pill works, but you’ll not be disappointed.
Sincerely,
X

Martha was at a loss for words. What was this and who the hell was X? How could her late husband keep such a secret? There were too many questions, but the blue pill had her attention.

Peering curiously at the pill, she heard the closing of cabinets and thought of the young stud in her kitchen. Younger self, beauty, and pleasure again. Well, she was close to death, so the little hope this gave her, she decided she would chance it. She opened the package and dropped the shimmering pill in her wrinkled hands.

So what animal? It seemed pointless, but they were in the directions. She chose her favorite animal in the whole world, A
rabbit. Every nook of the house had an homage to that in some way with little statues or pictures of the long-eared animal. It was also the one thing she had envied of that magazine out there. The one with the girls dressed up like rabbits. Her hand shook as the other reached for the glass of water that was next to her.

Maybe she should wait, she thought. This pill could be dangerous, but another clatter of plates and peering at her wrinkled hand sealed the deal. In her mouth went the pill and followed by the water.Nothing happened, and she sat back in the chair with a sigh. The letter did say that the effects could take time, but waiting wasn’t something she liked to do.

“Well, it was worth a try,” she said out loud.

“What is?” The young stud said while he presented a plate with a sandwich. He handed it to here and sat on the couch in front of her.

“Nothing dear,” she responded, and he thought he saw the slight hue of a red touch her cheeks.

He didn’t press the issue, and they ate while he told her about his morning. Before she knew it, it was six, and he was gone. As the day faded tonight, she headed upstairs and got naked, look at her wrinkled flesh as it hung on her bones. Tears in her eyes she went to
sleep hoping her dreams would bring some solstice.

Moonlight flowed into the room bathing Martha while she laid under covers with fitful dreams. Her wrinkled skin was glowing blue, and a moan escaped her lips as she tossed. Morning came soon enough and as she awoke under the bright light of the sun.

Rolling out of bed, she stood up and walked to the bathroom. Something was different when she passed the mirror, but she dismissed the view from the corner of her eye. Sleep still had a hold and as she prepared to shower and get ready for the day. It was when she lathered herself under water that she discovered the change. She gasped at the feeling of soft skin and rushed out of the shower to look in the mirror.

Brown eyes of a knockout beauty looked back at her and made her gasp. Lips were soft looking, and her hair was a magnificent shimmering gold again. It was long and sank past her shoulders down to her ass. She could stand tall again, not hunched over by long years of hardships she had endured. Her leg was twitching, and it felt so good as it went up in down in a blinding motion.

Hands roamed up her smooth skin to cup her now full breasts, no longer laden and sagging with wrinkles. Nipples pinched, a moan escaped her lips as she felt the stirrings of need in her body. Breasts were bigger now, a good big D-cup now and nipples were small and pert. The bounced under a firm and perkiness test.

Freaked out was probably the feeling that Martha should have had, but when she looked over and saw the clock on her bedroom wall above the bed, possibility ran through her mind. It was ten and her heart rushed as she realized the young stud she lusted after would be there in a few hours. She grew wet thinking of him. The showers end up taking longer than it should have.

There was a lot of exploring to do as feeling in limbs came back after being long forgotten. Drying herself off, and loving the old feel of Egyptian cotton she bounded out the bathroom and noticed that the clock now read twelve. She was ready, dressed in a lovely pink long gown without panties, being that the only ones she had were “granny style.” There was still time, and so Martha quickly found herself growing impatient of the waiting.

Time was not a friend at the moment. Excitement slowly dissipated to fear and nervousness the more time she had to think about what had transpired. How would the help react? Would he even allow her to talk before he freaked out? It was more likely that he would assume she was a home intruder. Biting one of the nails n her thumb, she looked up at the clock and realized her musing had killed too much time to come up with a plan.

The clock read 1250 now. How did she do this? She wandered. How did she get him to see her and ravish her like she wanted him to? In the end, her answer was to attack him as he came into the living room. Her leg began thumping on the carpet with impatience.

1259.

The number signaled a final moment of panic, and then the sound of a lock turning echoed throughout the house. The door slammed shut, and Mareth prepared herself for what was to come, be it a positive encounter or a negative one.
“Martha?” he called out. She was still upstairs, and he must have been surprised to find that she wasn’t in her chair knitting. His lovely voice made her heart sore, and she decided to hold her tongue out of fear. Footfalls sounded, and she knew he was looking for her and so ready to face the music, she descended the stairs.