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Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 (1 viewing) (1) Guests
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TOPIC: Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2
Drakanna (User)
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Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: 1  
Abby continues to smoke, and regress further. The mysterious Malissa from XIII Enterprises stops by for a little chat...

Part II


Abby inhaled deeply on the first cigarette from the fresh pack of YOUTHFUL SPIRITS, sighing as the initial euphoria washed over her. The tingling came, as it always did, but she tried hard to ignore it. Between sex from the night before and her masturbation session in the mall parking lot, her vulva was getting quite sore. It just wasn’t used to all of the attention it was getting lately, and twinged with sweet pain ever so slightly just from walking. Still, she couldn’t help but slide a hand down there and caress her enflamed flower.

“Yuck,” she muttered. Her panties were quite damp and sticky, making her itch a little. She entered the main bathroom and unbuckled her pants, allowing them to slide down her slender hips and pile at her feet. She looked at herself in the mirror and absorbed what she saw before her. Whatever seemingly hideous reflection she had spent the past few years ignoring had gone away. The image in the mirror looked as though it was staring back at her from 1997. It was that of a young woman, just barely over the threshold into adulthood. The hair, the skin – everything – seemed to glow. Her belly was tight and unblemished by adipose or stretch marks. Even her thighs were smooth and untouched by cellulite. The bags under her eyes were gone, as well as the crow’s feet. She was maybe in her early twenties, but that was a stretch and she knew it. She guessed the girl in the reflection was in her late teens. Maybe eighteen, but probably seventeen.

“Holy shit. Oh. My. God. I’m a teenager again,” she said, visibly shaken. The gentle wafting of the smoke from her left hand drew her gaze to the cigarette it was holding – the one meant to kick the habit and rejuvenate her. Okay, the quitting part was certainly a failure, but not the rejuvenation. It was not making her look and feel younger – it was making her younger. In spite of her growing terror, she took another puff before she realized what she was doing. She considered dropping it in the toilet and flushing it away, but she couldn’t. Guiltily, she finished the remainder and then flushed the butt. With both of her hands free, she pulled off her blouse to see how she looked in her underwear. Her bra looked a little deflated. She didn’t even have to reach behind her back to unhook it. She just had to rotate the hooks around to the front, Lazy Susan _style_. There was no tension in the bra’s band or the straps. Quite simply, it was meant for a much heavier and bustier woman. Looking at her panties, she noted that they were not up to the task of holding up her sensible panties any longer. Just to prove it, she paced back and forth in the bathroom until they slid down to her ankles. Being rather damp at the crotch, it only added to their weight and gravity’s effect. She smacked her ass lightly, which at thirty-eight years would have jiggled like the kind of Jello Bill Cosby would admire. She ran her hand down her chest, stroking her semi-erect nipples, her tight stomach, and down to her mons pubis. Also gone were the mostly unmanageable tangles and snarls of pubic hair the pre-menopausal Abby had to deal with; now reduced to a neat little tuft of pubic hair.

“I’m a teenager again,” she reiterated. “Unfuckingbelievable.”


Abby sat down on the toilet, where she did some of her best thinking, and calculated the numbers in her head. She had smoked twenty-one cigarettes since yesterday evening. She was thirty-eight years old when all of this began, and now she looked like a teenager no older than seventeen by her best estimation. It was not a bad guess, either – if each cigarette was literally taking a year from her life, twenty-one cigarettes would have been twenty-one years. “Why didn’t Jonathan warn me about this?” she asked no one in particular. It was rather frightening. What if she had finished off the entire pack, she wondered? Actually, a whole pack wouldn’t even be necessary – she had nineteen cigarettes and only seventeen years of existence to rob from. “I can’t be the guinea pig anymore. Smoking these are literally going to kill me.”

She wiped and flushed, then strode naked out of the bathroom and into the living room where the newly opened cigarettes lay innocently on the coffee table. She snatched them off of the glass surface, took them into the kitchen where she intended to chuck them in the trash, when her phone rang.

“Hello?” she said.

“Abby? Abby, is that you?” Jonathan asked.

“Jonathan? I don’t recognize the number. Where are you calling from?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m calling from the XIII House. I just wanted to check on you, but wow, you don’t sound like yourself. I thought maybe your niece had stopped by or something.”

“Jonathan, it’s me. Abby. I promise. Look, I don’t know what’s going on, I’ve been smoking these cigarettes of yours all day, and it’s got some kind of side-effect.”

“Like what kind of side-effect?” he asked.

“Like a major fucking side-effect,” she said. “It’s not just making me feel young and rejuvenated, it’s actually made me younger!”

“Uh,” he began, likely searching for the right words to proceed with, “Like how much younger?”

“Younger than when you and I first met in college, that’s how much. So young I don’t think I look old enough to even buy cigarettes anymore. Christ, Jonathan, I look like I’m young enough to be your daughter now!”

“Look just calm down, can you send me a picture so I can show the girls. They can’t help you if they don’t see it for themselves.”

“Goddammit, Jonathan. You’re not getting it!” she screamed in a pitch that was an octave higher than when she was at the mall earlier. “If I take a picture of myself right now, standing here naked, you’d get arrested for having pics of an underage girl on your phone. If Chris Hansen from NBC showed up and saw us together, he’d tell you to take a seat!”

“Okay, okay. I get it!” he shouted back. “Just let me get my shit gathered up and I’ll be home as soon as possible. Just stay calm and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like have another one of your magic cigarettes?” she shouted. “I don’t know if I can stop, honey, and I’m fucking terrified of what’s going to happen if I keep smoking.”

“Yeah, just hang on, I’m on my way!” He hung up, leaving her alone again.

She switched her phone off and nearly leapt out of her skin when she saw yet another lit cigarette nestled between in her fingers. When the hell had she started on another one? She screamed like it was a venomous snake and threw the smoldering butt into the sink’s garbage disposal, not that the damage wasn’t already done, though. “Goddammit!” she screamed. She ran back into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror again. She thought maybe she did look a little younger – most noticeably her breasts. Around the nipples, now pink instead of the brown color they had been until today, looked slightly puffy, as though they were still developing somewhat.

This can’t be, thought Abby. This just doesn’t happen to people. Nothing can to turn the clock back on someone to adolescence.

She went over to the bathroom scale, a rather expensive one that was rated for medical examiners that Jonathan had bought about ten years ago, amidst great protest from Abby. He was wanting to try out a new low-carb diet and had become obsessed with measuring himself to the point she thought he needed to get some psychiatric help. Then he got burned out on the diet, stopped tracking his weight, and there the scale had remained, collecting dust in the corner of the bathroom. She stood on its _base_ and adjusted the slide until it balanced perfectly.

“118 lbs,” it read. She had been in the upper one-sixties yesterday.

“Okay, let’s try the height, then.” She unfolded the ruler attached to it and brought the arm down until it touched the top of her head. “64.0 inches,” it read.

That wasn’t too far from the mark, Abby considered, only thing was that at the last OBGYN visit a couple of weeks earlier, they had her at sixty-four-point-four inches. She had lost nearly half an inch in height since her last measurement. Maybe she had been slouching a little this time, or maybe she had her shoes still on at the OBGYN.

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” she said to herself. Going back to the kitchen, she withdrew another cigarette and lit up. She rationalized that this would settle it, but a part of her knew it was just a rationalization. Already, she needed another smoke badly. She assumed it should put her at fifteen years old now. No longer old enough to drive a car. Maybe she could get her learner’s permit, but she’d have to be accompanied by a legal guardian. Both of her parents were dead, so she assumed that left Jonathan. A sinking feeling of dread took her by the very soul. Something as simple as operating a vehicle on her own was now legally beyond her. Her husband would have to chaperone her everywhere. And, forget about holding hands or other public displays of affection. They’d be at risk from everything ranging from ugly looks to getting the police or Child Protective Services called on them.

Sobbing quietly as she pondered her new future, she went back to the scale and repeated the measurements. One hundred and fifteen for the weight and Sixty-two-point-nine for height. One more cigarette had shed three pounds and shrunk her a whole inch and a half. From here on out, she would be losing height with every one she had. Examining herself in the mirror, she also noticed the ever so slight diminishment of her breasts.

Still crying, she went into the bedroom and found the smallest pair of jeans and sweater she could find. Even they dwarfed her diminutive figure. The pants were not simply loose – she found herself stepping on the cuffs with the heels of her feet as she walked now. Her boobs all but vanished under the sweater, which was sort of her intention since she didn’t have a bra that came anywhere near what she needed for the little ladies. She could feel the craving for another cigarette rising as she change, which made her scream in frustration.

“Oh god, Jonathan,” she cried. “Please get home soon!” She was afraid of the child he would find if too much time went by, for she could simply not stop smoking to save her life.


Jonathan walked through the door fifteen minutes later carrying a black briefcase, and stifled a yelp when a young teenaged girl immediately tackled him. She wrapped her arms around him and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him, but all she could reach was his neck.

“Jonathan, oh God I’m so glad you’re here. I’m losing my mind!” Abby squealed.

“I think you’ve lost more than that,” he said, chuckling.

“What?” she asked.

“How many have you smoked since we got off the phone?” he asked.

“Uh, four I think,” she answered. “I guess that puts me at about…”

“Thirteen,” a woman’s voice said from the front porch. They both turned as a beautiful, tall woman with golden-blonde hair, an electric blue dress, and stiletto heels entered. Her eyes, so dark brown they could be mistaken for black. She smiled with perfect, white teeth that resembled something more shark-like in nature. The phrase “man-eater” came to Abby’s mind.

“Jonathan, who’s this?” Abby asked.

“My name’s Malissa, and you must be little Abby.”

“It’s Abigail, Abigail Ingleson, just like my husband’s last name,” she answered coldly.

“Well, Lil Miss Abigail, if you don’t act fast, your claim to him isn’t going to have any legs to stand on. Do you mind if I come in, Jonathan?”

“No, please do!” he said, moving out of the way.

In Malissa stepped, staring down at Abby the whole time and smirking ever so faintly. From Abby’s vertical disadvantaged point, she guessed the woman’s height at roughly five feet, eight inches, and that was without counting those ungodly high heels she was sporting. She had to be just shy of six feet total. Abby, on the other hand, was barely five feet and one inch tall now. What was worse, she couldn’t take her eyes off Malissa’s breasts. She was eye level to them and they were absolutely huge, made even more striking by the corset the woman was wearing. Abby crossed her arms, self-consciously, covering her tiny breast bumps that were hardly ready for a training bra. Her hands had all but vanished within the contents of her sweater sleeves.

“There’s only one thing that can help you kick these cigarettes, something we’ve been working on in case we ran into this problem…” Malissa motioned for Jonathan. “Honey could you be a dear and open up the suitcase for us?” She smiled at him hungrily, making Abigail clear her throat loudly to remind the evil b…witch that his wife was still in the room no matter if she was barely a teenager now.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I know none of this can be easy for you, little darling. It’s just that XIII Enterprises very much appreciates all of the help he’s given us. Without him, we’d have gone belly-up.”

“Forgive me if I don’t seem shocked as to why you’re company’s having such a hard time. If your other products are anything like this, magic or not, you might want to try selling Avon or something instead.”

Malissa grinned, and even chuckled a little, but her eyes were those of someone only seconds away from a murderous rage. “It’s quite alright, sweetling. Hopefully I can change your mind before the night’s over. Our customer service is to die for.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “Jonathan? Honey? Did your woman-friend here just threaten me by pun?”

“What honey?” he asked from over by the coffee table. He was arranging something, but Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from the witch that was currently staring daggers into her soul.

Malissa grabbed Abby by her pencil-thin biceps, applying just a little too much pressure. She then stroked Abby’s smooth girlish cheek ever so softly and whispered, “I don’t make threats, sweet child. I promise you.”

“Okay girls, here it is!” Jonathan said. They both turned to stare, and Malissa’s eyes lit up at the sight of the products.

“What is all of this stuff?” Abby asked.

“These are just a few of the items we plan to bring to market. You can see here we’ve got skin lotion for those pesky stretch marks and crow’s feet that you really could have used a day or two ago… And here, are some hair care products, such as an all-natural blonde dye that doesn’t leave one’s hair bleached out and brittle…

“Blonde hair dye, huh?” Abby said, cocking an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you’re not just the president, you’re also a client?”

“Yes, yes… but that’s nothing to concern you with. You’re way too young to be worrying about changing your hair color, sweetie. I think what you need, is….this!” she held up a small box of “PLEASURE X 13 CHEWING GUM.”

“Gum?” Abby asked, just a little confused.

“No matter what your addiction is, just chew one or two of these depending on your size and it will curb any urges for more. Obviously you’re not satisfied with the results of the YOUTHFUL SPIRITS cigarettes…”

“Not satisfied? They turned me into a middle-schooler and everyone’s treating me like a kid. My life is ruined.”

“Say no more, child,” Malissa said with an ever-widening grin. “Try one of these for now and see if it helps kick your habit. Then, we’ll deal with the rest of your circumstances later.”

Abby held the pack of gum in her hand and then looked at the woman doubtfully. “Are you absolutely sure this will work?”

“Oh, it’ll work,” Malissa said, her smile fading a little. She got up and walked over to Jonathan, who was gazing at his adolescent wife intently.

“Go ahead, honey. You’re going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

Abby gulped, then tore open the packet of gum and popped a stick in her mouth. It shared the same taste as the cigarettes, which made her tremble. Hoping against hope, she closed her eyes and began chewing.

“That’s it, darling,” Malissa said. “Just keep chewing until the flavor’s gone.”

Abby kept her eyes closed and kept chewing. And, something began to happen. The tingling sensation swept over again, but this time instead of making her aroused, it made her feel like she had to go pee. She opened her eyes, and the gum fell out of her mouth. Instead of her getting larger, it was the room that was enlarging around her. The furniture, the door knobs, books on the nearby shelf, once within reach, were now well beyond her grasp. She looked down at her body, and watched it shrink further. What little secondary sexual characteristics she had left, such as her tween breasts, were gone. Her small but semi-existent hips, slimmed down further, causing her panties and jeans to crumple at her feet. She held up her hands to look at them, but they were completely swallowed in extra-long sleeves of a sweater that now stretched down to her knees. Its V-neck now extended down to between her two flat nipples, barely concealing them, and was so wide that her left shoulder slightly protruded. Kicking away the jeans and panties, she ran over to the hallway mirror that she could barely see into because its now-too-high placement on the wall.

“NO!” Abby screamed. She looked at her husband and pled, “Jonathan how could you?”

“Honey, it’s for the best. Trust me.”

“Yes, Abby,“ Malissa said in a condescending purr, “You no longer have to worry about being an aged, inadequate, failure of a woman who couldn’t even bear your man a child. Now you can be the child. Everyone has their purpose, and we just found yours.”

“YOU BITCH!” Abby screamed, going into a mini-Berserker Mode and rushing headlong into the much larger adult woman who now had her arm around Jonathan. Abby crashed into her, trying to beat, rip, claw, and gnash a tunnel through the evil cow’s abdomen. Malissa was even momentarily taken off guard by the little girl’s ferocity, stumbling backwards, but only for a moment. She regained her balance and then hauled off and slapped Abby across the face, hard. A galaxy of stars burst across the little seven year old’s vision as she went sailing backwards. After nearly fifteen seconds, Abby looked up at them helplessly, only to find them ignoring her completely, and kissing.

Malissa drew away from Jonathan slightly and tapped a shushing finger to his lips. Smiling with hateful triumph, she turned to look down at the little girl who had once been a grown woman with a husband, a career path, and freedom. The look in the witch’s eyes told Abby all of that was gone now, forever.

“Oh Abby, I hope we can put all of these unfortunate events behind us real soon, but I’m going to have to ask you to be a big girl and do what’s right for you and our new family. Do you think you can do that, angel?”

Abby stared at her once wonderful husband, who seemed too entranced with the new woman in his life to even look at her, and said, “Jonathan…why?”

He finally regarded her with a mix of pity and mockery. “I’m tired, Abby. I’m tired of having to put up with you and your failures. Here I am busting my ass at work, and you’re off somewhere screwing around at the mall today. I poured so much money into you to stay home and work on your stupid nursing degree, like you’re ever going to graduate or get hired with the sort of half-assed grades you’re making, but most importantly, like Malissa pointed out earlier, I want a child. I want a child and a wonderful wife to come home to, not some bitter menopausal bitch that curses like a sailor and smokes like a truck driver.”

Abby’s mouth fell open and she wailed in an anguish that went well beyond the capacity of a seven year old’s lungs. Nothing had ever hit her so hard in her life. His words reduced her to nothingness in a way that her regression in age could never compete. She fell over on her side, gasping for air, trying to force herself to breath, but all she wanted to do was wail even more. After a few more seconds, she fell silent.

“Go on into the bedroom honey,” Malissa whispered. “Abby and I are going to have a little chat. Just us girls.”

“Okay honey,” Jonathan said, kissing her on the cheek and dutifully heading off to what had once been Abby’s room too.

“Abby, look at me. This is very important.”

Abby turned her head slightly to stare at the monster that had so easily invaded her house and robbed her everything that had once mattered.

“You think you’re rejuvenation has finished, but it hasn’t. I need you to seize what’s left of your adulthood and do one more thing. The stick of gum you just had can only take off six years per dose. You have a choice right now. You can go have one last stick, which will take you down to one year old, and be finished, or you can finish off the whole damned pack and erase yourself from existence. It’s all the same to me, really. You’re out of the picture now and that’s all that matters to us.”

“Us?” Abby asked.

“Yes,” Malissa said as she began to emit a bright purple aura. “Us.”

Before Abby knew what was happening, the room exploded in a bright purple light that Abby had to shield her eyes from. When she opened them, instead of one woman standing there, there were now thirteen. Five brunettes, four with auburn-colored hair, and four blondes.

“What just happened?” Abby asked, now sitting up and scooting backwards until her butt hit the wall and she could go no more. “Where’s Malissa?”

“I am Malissa,” they said in eerie unison. “We are Malissa.”

“You’re the witches from the picture,” an awestruck Abby whispered.

“Yes. When we are untouched by mortal man, we are many. When a mortal man knows our flesh, we become as one. The most powerful being in the world.”

“But, why Jonathan?” Abby asked.

“Funny you should ask. He’s not the most handsome, or smartest, or most courageous, is he? He’s perfect for a woman like you used to be, though.”

“Hey,” she said, feeling a little bit of berserker mode returning.

“I Malissa, am one woman made from the sum of many women. All of my choices are a compromise between the wishes and dreams of the women who form me.”

“Right. When your powers combine, you form Mega Bitch: Wrecker of Homes. I already got that part. Got it good and hard, thanks.”

The thirteen witches paused for a moment, scowling, but sighed in unison before continuing: “I Malissa of the Thirteen, must compromise the desires of all the women within my heart. On one end, there is lust for men like Jason “Drogo” Mamoa from Game of Thrones, and on the other end of the spectrum there is Christopher “McLovin’” Mintz-Plasse from the sleeper-hit, Superbad.” Twelve of the witches turned to stare at the auburn haired one on the far left. She blushed and began quietly studying her feet.

“I’m McLovin’ it,” she whispered mournfully.

“As it turns out, Jonathan Ingleson is the best compromise of those extremes that we could find from our extensive application and interview process posted on Craigslist for the Tri-State area. There were dozens of applicants. Many men tried. Many men died. Except Jonathan. He will provide for us a suitable specimen of Man-Seed to fertilize the womb of Malissa the Thirteen!”

“So does that just get Malissa pregnant or does that knock up the whole goddamn coven?” Abby asked, more curious than terrified.

The thirteen women stared at each nervously. “We…I…Malissa, am not sure. This has not happened before, but we will soon find out!”

There was another blinding flash of purple light, and only one woman, Malissa, was standing before little Abby.

“As you can see, little girl, it matters not to me whether you decide to embrace childhood or oblivion. Jonathan still wants you in his life, no matter how diminished of a role you may be, so I leave the choice up to you.”

“Please tell me you’ve got him under some kind of enchantment.”

“It’s not enchantment, Abby. It’s the one thing all women have – pussy. Lots of it. I, Malissa of the Thirteen, can be one woman, or many women, all pleasuring him simultaneously. Now you see why I am the most powerful being in the world.”

“Yeah, I suppose you have a point,” Abby said. “I just had no idea the universe could be this cynical and sick.”

“Oh you have no idea,” she said, tussling little Abby’s head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important business to attend to in the bedroom. You stay here and be a good girl, and make up your mind. If I come out here later and you’re not a baby, or completely erased from existence, I’m going to make up your mind for you, and I promise you, you aren’t going to like it.”

To be continued…..
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vended (User)
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Re:Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: 8  
A good read.

Not what I expected plotwise.
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Drakanna (User)
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Re:Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: 1  
Thank you, and I hope I haven't jumped the rails on this one, plot-wise. I used to be really, really bad for doing that.
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vended (User)
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Re:Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: 8  
Eh, write the storyline the way you imagine it. It's not a commission,
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RegressingAger (User)
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Re:Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: 7  
Well that escalated rather quickly. It's a bit short but its nonetheless well written. I'm interested in seeing if this is nearing conclusion or if we'll be spending a lot more time with little Abby.
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Last Edit: 2016/02/07 22:22 By RegressingAger.
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areg5 (User)
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Re:Story Draft: "It's Just a Cigarette" Part 2 4 Years, 11 Months ago Karma: -2  
Very good story. Didn't see that coming!
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