3 comments/ 21060 views/ 1 favorites The Age Machine Ch. 01 By: SMTRandretti Rex Larson woke up that morning, knowing he would climb into bed that night nearly 10 years older. He felt a fearful apprehension about what he was planning to do. A nervous tension had begun gnawing in his gut the previous night, and none of it had dissipated after six hours of restless sleep in an unfamiliar bed. In fact, he was even more taut now, with the prospect of their impending trip to the age clinic. This would be the last morning he would eat his breakfast as a man in his 30s. (Or maybe that was yesterday; he wasn't sure he was hungry enough to stomach anything this morning.) He gazed at his wife in the dim morning light that seeped through the heavy hotel curtain. She was still sleeping blissfully. Was she wearing a contented smile, even in her sleep? It sure looked that way, but maybe that was just his imagination. He sat up for a minute or so, and then quietly got out of bed. He walked an absent-minded circle around the hotel room, and then glanced at the digital clock by the bed. "Just a few minutes after 6 o'clock," he thought to himself. "What now?" He didn't want to disturb his wife, and he wasn't interested in any breakfast. Groggily, he padded into the bathroom for a long and thoughtful shower. The water was luxuriously hot, in stark contrast to the miniature bar of soap provided by the hotel. Rex didn't like using hotel soaps; he preferred the feel of a heavier bar in his hand. In fact, he usually brought his own soap while traveling, but forgot to pack it this time. "A lot on my mind, I guess," he mumbled to himself, as he unwrapped the small bar of soap. As he let the water rinse the lather off his body, he reflected about what would happen later that day. It had been nearly 20 years since society embraced the advent of age machines. From the dawn of history, mankind had searched in vain to find a "fountain of youth," a way to slow the sands of time, a way to prevent the inevitability of old age. Finally, in 2213, researchers had discovered a way to make people younger, but it came with a price. Much like the laws of physics are constrained by a conservation of energy; in a similar way, scientists discovered that there was no way to make someone younger, without making someone else older at the same time. It was possible to reverse the genetic effects of aging, but only by taking those years off of someone else. The early days of reverse aging stirred many heated debates on medical ethics. Some correctly feared that rich people would leverage their wealth, purchasing youth from the general populace - a year or two here, another year there - and thus could buy an indefinitely-extended life, barring any accident or terminal disease. Horrifying rumors circulated as well, about how mentally handicapped children had been unknowingly hooked up to the age machines, to give hospital workers an extra year or two of youth every now and again. However, with so many people greedily trying to amass as much youth as they could, it didn't take too long to discover the limits of reverse aging. A few people had managed to perform the procedure successfully for up to 12, or even 15 years, but, for the most part, anything beyond a decade was exceedingly risky, and usually very detrimental to the subject's health. By all accounts, nature would only let you reverse the affects of aging so far, before rejecting the youth transplant. It wasn't long before stringent regulations were enacted to limit each individual to a total of 10 years either added or subtracted from their age. Meticulous records were kept on amended birth certificates. Meanwhile, new debates arose constantly. If a 28-year-old took back five years of youth, should they be regarded as age 23, or age 28? The procedure didn't reverse time, nor would it cure recently-acquired diseases or ailments. Genetically, however, bodies were returned to their younger state. On the other hand, these "younger" individuals retained their knowledge, wisdom, and experiences. So, if hovercraft rental companies required you to be 25 years old to rent a vehicle, was that a physical limit, or a mental limit? And what about retirement benefits; at what age should they begin? Eventually, most countries settled on a dual-age system: with a natural age (which people used in legal matters, such as driving and voting), and a modified age (which is what life insurance companies used in their actuary tables). Today, as Rex Larson stood in the shower, he was 34; his wife, in bed, was nine years his senior. If all went as planned, though, their ages would be reversed by the end of the day. There were many reasons married people would give years of their life to their spouse. Some couples did it to get their bodies to the same age. Other times, a woman would even give her husband a few extra years, with the aim of making their life expectancies approximately the same (this was more common when a woman had seen her mother go through 20 years of lonely widowhood). For Rex, though, he was giving years to his wife as an act of submission. Initially, they had simply discussed making their ages a bit more even, owing to their comparatively large age gap. A four-year transplant would have made him 38, and her 39. But Rex and Donna had something unique in their relationship: he was submissive, and she was dominant. Rex derived immense satisfaction from doting on Donna, and, after seven years of marriage, she had learned to bask hedonistically in his attention and service. One day, she began joking about adding one additional year to the planned transplant. She quipped teasingly, "Don't you think you should give me one extra year, so that I can be the younger one?" She was speaking in jest, but she could tell by the way he became suddenly quiet, and squirmed in the bed, that she had struck that nerve again. Rex was often overcome by mixed feelings of excitement whenever he felt controlled. Curious, she had moved her hand down to his crotch, and rubbed him through his pants, to sense what was happening. She felt him getting hard, extraordinarily quickly. Obviously, he wasn't reacting to the caress; instead, her teasing had rattled his brain. That's when ideas about an even larger age transplant began to swirl in both of their minds. to be continued... The Age Machine Ch. 02 Donna woke up, and heard the sound of shower water running in the hotel bathroom. It must have been a peaceful sleep; she didn't even remember hearing Rex get up. She reoriented herself with the unfamiliar surroundings, and remembered why she was here. Today her husband would give her the gift of his youth -- an ultimate act of service. The thought made her heart wake, and race with joyous excitement. She sat up quickly, her morning grogginess evaporating almost instantly. She wondered how long Rex had been in the shower: Was he just getting underway? Or was he almost done? She hoped he wasn't too close to finishing. She cast off her nightshirt in an uncharacteristically hurried manner -- (when she was by herself, she typically undressed much less seductively than when she was under Rex's watchful gaze) -- and then she quietly opened the door of the hotel bathroom. Her feet pressed against the cold tile floor, but her face felt warmed by the steam -- which meant Rex had probably been showering for a while. This meant he might shut off the water at any second, which would have been a disappointment. Donna swiftly pulled aside the shower curtain, and lifted one foot over the tub. Rex seemed momentarily surprised by the sudden noise, but said nothing as his wife stood behind him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and let her bare breasts push up against his warm, wet back. She almost purred in contentment, knowing what would happen next: she would have one or two delicious orgasms in the shower, while he would be left in throbbing want. Donna had accidentally stumbled onto the benefits of cockteasing, and male orgasm denial, sometime in her mid-to-late 20s -- almost two decades ago, but at an age not too far from where she would be later this afternoon. She hadn't set out to be a cocktease -- a manipulative tormentress -- at least, not initially. She was simply enrolled in graduate school at the time, often worn out from late nights of research. After a stressful week, sex sounded like a good way to relax. Yet, on more than one Friday night, after some fairly heavy petting, she would find herself drifting into a blissful sleep, right at the moment her man was becoming aroused to the point of "needing" relief. Some of the men she had dated became bitter and boorish about it. They'd brashly complain, sometimes waking her up impatiently. If she failed to rouse herself, they would be moody in the morning. Those relationships never lasted very long. Yet other men seemed affected in an entirely different way: whenever she inadvertently drifted off to sleep, leaving them unsatisfied, she was treated much more gentlemanly the following day; each unintended early ending led to courtesy and wooing on the morrow. The stark contrast of those two reactions -- there was rarely anything in the middle -- made her curious. By the time she'd completed her degree and met Rex, she decided to put her research skills to work in some very erotic experimentation. She discovered that leaving Rex with unfulfilled desire made him swoon for her. Rex was never put into chastity, or anything harsh like that. In fact, Rex usually had sex with his wife about two or three times a week -- probably about as much as many other married men. However, the in-between days rarely ended with a quick goodnight kiss before the lights went out. More often than not, he was deliberately aroused to the brink of orgasm (at least once, if not more than that), before being left wanting. It was never too long before the laws of supply-and-demand kicked in. Faithful Rex could only get the relief he so desperately needed from one supplier, and she made sure demand was kept unusually high. The two of them fit together hand-in-glove: she enjoyed the play very much, at times becoming aroused when coaxed him, and even occasionally manipulating him in his ultra-aroused state. But, far from growing bitter, he seemed to thrive in his submission. Even when she was seemingly cruel, it was always with the end goal of making him more devoted, and helping them both feel more entwined. Now, in the shower, she was plying her craft again. As her hands moved sensuously up and down his slippery chest and stomach, she'd occasionally let one hand grab his protruding cock, using the lather as lubricant for a few strokes. As soon as he started to moan a little, she'd move her hand away. Each time she gripped him, she noticed he felt a little harder than the time before, and his cock would droop a little less each time she let go. It wasn't long before his cock had transformed into a bulging erection. She was intimately aware that another metamorphosis was occurring, also -- in his mind. Typically, his resolve would gradually soften as his flesh became increasingly hard. Rex was filling with want, but Rex always filled with a lust that was both courteous and deferential. Donna gently spun him around, and they stood face-to-face. The endless supply of hot hotel water sprayed against his back, while they gazed deeply into each other's eyes. They said no words, but much was tacitly communicated. They positioned themselves so that the knob of his upright erection pressed against her pussy lips and clit. She rocked her hips almost imperceptibly; it was her turn to moan in the rhapsody of genital pleasure. It took a lot of willpower for Donna not to turn herself around, bend and lean against the shower wall, and let Rex thrust in and out of her. But too much was at stake today. Not that Rex would change his mind about the age donation -- they had talked about that when he was aroused, and when he wasn't, so she was confident he wouldn't back out of the deal, merely because he had a timely orgasm. However, she had given a lot of thought to this day, and she hungered for him to be in that submissive, overwhelmed, awed, and reverential frame of mind at the very moment the age transplant took place, which meant he'd need to keep that needy urge pent up inside of him for the time being. She closed her eyes, and imagined her husband kneeling, with that delicious mix of dread and desperation, just before his youth was sucked out of him, and transplanted into the body of his living goddess. That vision made hips rock harder. He wasn't penetrating, but her parted lips straddled his stiff shaft, and her clit was moving against his bulging flesh. Three times, she thrust her hips forward, and glided them back. Then, her moaning started. A few more times, perhaps almost a dozen, each with increasing frenzy, and it finally happened: she convulsed in rapturous pleasure. She let out a cat-like moan, her breathing was momentarily belabored, her legs suddenly weak, and her brain temporarily transported to a blissful heaven. As her orgasm finally subsided, she inhaled deeply, then slowly opened her eyes. Rex was gazing at her, with a quizzical look, which was focused on one question: "Can I have one, too?" She grabbed the back of his head, and thrust her cold tongue in his warm mouth. She didn't need to answer him; he knew he'd have to wait. to be continued...