"Oh stop Dad, you're complaining but you're the one who did just gain back 32 years of life. I wish we could change you back like you want, but we don't have a way. We've just all been working so hard on this age rejuvenation stuff, nobodies ever actually done any research into age progression, nobody believes there's any money in that. So cheer up. Is it really so bad to be 15 again? To have your whole life in front of you? Our research at my job has found basically the fountain of youth. And you did volunteer to test this out for my work. Sure we regressed you a little younger than we hoped, but now you've got a fresh new life, even more years left ahead. What more could a person ask for?"
I turned on a dime, and glared at my daughter and said, "I noticed during all that, you failed to bring up one very important thing. I was told I was gunna go from 47 to 30 years old. I didn't want to end up younger than you, Sara. I don't want to be younger than my daughter, but even that I could live with. My major concern in all this was how I started out today a grown man, and now I'm going home with you as a teenage girl! What the fuck Sara? I mean, how can you guys let people be test subjects if you can't even come close in how you're trying to physically transform people. You were trying to make me a 30 year old man, and missed so far that I would up a 15 year old girl somehow. And now you can't even change me back? I just have to ride this out? And with the papers your company made me sign, I cant even go back home! Since I'm now a minor, all my property gets put up for auction, as I can't be a home owner, and can't even drive a car for another year or 2. The lawyers seize everything immediately and now I have to go home with you. I have to live with you because now that I'm 15 I can't live alone. So now my own daughter is my legal fucking gaurdian! This is humiltiating!"
"Ok, so we sent you back a little too far and were off by a gender. What my team at work has been able to accomplish is miraculous. We just have to get the specifics a little more accurate. I know this will be a big change for you, but I promise while you're living with me and going to school, I'll be a good mom to you. You've got nothing to worry about now. Minimal responsibilities. Just enjoy your new life," my daughter said.
I was stunned. "School what I'm not- and wait a minute, Mom? I'm not calling you Mom, you're what, like only 12 years older than this body? And what kind of clothes did you get for me. I know you just guessed sizes and grabbed some stuff from Target, but this is nuts. Sweatpants would usually be fine, but these are tight. The soft lining might feel really good on hairless legs, but they hug every inch of my legs. They're really tight in my new flat.... you know.... crotch area. And you couldn't get me a top that covers my whole stomach, my belly's just hanging out. And what's up with this sweatshirt? It's sooo..... girly! Why did you get me something so feminine? I've been a girl for like an hour and you've put me in a fuzzy outfit?" I complained.
Sara had heard enough. "Stop! NOW! That is enough young lady!" she yelled, taking a step towards me. My blood froze. Her getting close really made me notice how much taller than me she was now. Sara was only 5'5 but stood at least 9 inches over me. I knew I was smaller being this young, but 4'8 was miniscule. I was easily intimidated by the larger woman as she continued yelling at me, "Yes you will attending school, because you are 15. You'll be starting over as a freshman, we've already processed you new paperwork with the school, you'll be starting next week. And you know what else your new paper work says? It says yes I am your Mom. Your new birth certificate reads 'Amy Martin- mother, Sara Martin,' So from now on, you'll only be addressing me as Mom, got it? And I chose those clothes for you because that's the way you'll be dressing from now on. I'm not letting you waste your second chance at life. If you're a girl, then baby, you're gunna be a girl. I chose those sweatpants to show off your new curves, and that fluffy sweatshirt to make you feel how soft and girly your new life is. And these feminine clothes are the only type you're allowed to wear under my roof. Got it Amy?" Sara finished a pretty intense speech letting me know my new position in life.
I felt awkward, nervous, and a little afraid. I put my hands on my hips and an uneasy smile crept on my face. I would have to accept it, Sara was in control, what she says goes. "Yes... Mom. I'm sorry. Can we go home now?"
Sara kept a firm exterior but smiled inside being called Mom. I was now in full submission to her and she knew it. "Ok dear, lets go home and I'll make dinner. I promise Amy, you'll love your new life."
And with that, me and my new Mom hopped in the car driving to my new life.
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