Obsessed with Youth

My name is Eliza Doolittle and my life started over when I was already an old lady. My husband Will and I were both 60.

I arrived home from work at 3pm in pouring rain, and I got drenched running from my car to the house.

For more than 20 years I'd worked as a waitress on the breakfast and lunch shifts at a diner. I took off my shoes and rubbed my aching feet. At my age, standing for hours tortured my feet and legs. They swelled and ached every day.

Getting old stinks.

I removed my wet uniform, looked in the mirror and frowned. I had never been a great beauty, because I was stick thin even when I was young. My face had been pretty in a girl-next-door way, but my only really good feature was the dark red hair that was my pride and joy. But as I got older my red hair faded until it was dull gray. My small boobs and butt flattened. My face, neck and hands wrinkled. I hated it all.

My husband Will had a low-level job at the Department of Motor Vehicles. I think his official title was "Customer Disservice Agent." His job was to keep people waiting and piss them off.

Every night after dinner, Will sat on his fat ass in front of the television and watched garbage like "CSI Des Moines". He was never exactly a ball of fire, but after the age of 50 he became completely sedentary. At age 60 he was a fat tub of goo and a heart attack waiting to happen. I tried for years to get him to be more active but he resisted every effort.

Will and I hadn't had sex in months. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Coupling with the blob wasn't my idea of fun. He never mentioned it. His poor health probably prevented him from getting an erection.

I wiggled into leggings and a sports bra and went into our spare bedroom to do yoga. I wasn't in great shape, but I wasn't falling apart like Will.

For the millionth time I wondered if I should get a divorce, but discarded the notion immediately. Will was boring and lazy but I didn't have the courage to dump him. The thought of living the rest of my life alone was terrifying, and I had no hope of finding another husband at the age of 60.

After yoga, I searched job listings online and spotted something unusual. A "medical services company" called Galatea Inc was looking for "treatment demonstration models over the age of 60". Applicants would be tested for compatibility with new treatments that "reduce the visible signs of aging." Four women would be hired and receive a 5-year employment contract if they completed the full 3-month "intensive treatment and training program."

Getting paid to undergo age reduction treatments? Sign me up! I completed the online questionnaire and was scheduled for preliminary tests.

The company's headquarters outside of Knoxville was impressive and modern. Helpful employees led me and several other old women through the preliminary tests, which consisted of taking blood samples and skin tissue samples. Yes, they cut small slivers of living skin off my upper arm. Ouch.

A few days later, I was called by an excited man named Dr Higgins. He was the lead doctor at the company. "Your preliminary test results are off the charts, Mrs. Doolittle," the doctor enthused. "We haven't seen anything like it. A large percentage of the population respond to our treatments only moderately, so to find a woman with potential like yours... well... it's thrilling! Please tell me you are ready to join our company."

The next day I signed a 5-year employment contract with Galatea Inc.

"How much are they paying you?" My husband Will asked for the third time. He was having a hard time believing it.

"$200,000 a year for 5 years," I told him again and grinned. The money seemed astronomical to me too. I mean, I was a waitress in a diner. I didn't make squat. "But only if I complete the 3-month treatment and training program."

"Why wouldn't you complete it?"

"Dr Higgins says the workouts are very demanding and the medical treatments are fairly painful because of all the injections."

My husband's eyes opened wide and he frowned. "Painful?" he said. "I don't want you to be hurt, Eliza. The money isn't worth it."

"I'll be fine. I'm a tough old bag," I assured him and kissed his cheek for being concerned about me. Will wasn't all bad. "Are you going to be okay without me for 3 months?" I asked. He wasn't used to fending for himself. I did all of the cooking and housekeeping.

He smiled. "I'm not totally helpless, honey. I was a bachelor for years before I met you and I survived just fine."

I remembered he ate mostly pizza and Chinese takeout as a bachelor, but if he was good with it so was I.

I went next door to where my friend Clara lived. We'd been friends and neighbors for many years. "Do you really think it will work?" Clara skeptically asked after I explained why I'd be gone for three months.

I shrugged. "They showed me some impressive before and after photos, and their doctor says I'm an ideal candidate for the process. I have my fingers crossed."

"Is it like a fountain of youth?" Clara wanted to know. "Are you going to live forever?"

"Unfortunately, no. The process removes the external signs of aging, but internally I'll still be 60-year-old me."

"Oh. Well, it still sounds amazing, if it works," Clara said.

"Is Fred home?" I asked. "I want to ask if he'll take care of our yard while I'm gone." Clara's son Fred was a very nice and helpful teenage boy that I'd watched grow up over the years.

"Fred!" Clara called out. "Come here please!"

The tall skinny teen appeared in a minute. "Hi, Mrs Doolittle," he greeted me.

"Hi, Fred. Will you mow our lawn and weed our gardens for the next three months? I'll be away and you know how my husband is. He's not physically up to it."

"Sure. No problem," he agreed.

I handed him a wad of cash. "Thank you. Is $50 a week enough?"

"You don't have to pay me, Mrs Doolittle."

"Of course I do, Fred. It's a lot of work in the summer heat."

He smiled and agreed, "50 a week is fine. Thanks."

The next day I left home to enter the program. It was a residential program, meaning I would live at the Galatea facility for the next 3 months. They wanted us there 24 hours a day so they could strictly monitor everything we ate, everything we did, and every reaction we had to the treatments.

==

One week into the program, I was too exhausted and sore to make it back to my room after a workout session. I sat on the hallway floor and cried.

Dr Higgins found me there a few minutes later. He sat beside me and put a comforting arm around my shoulders. I leaned against his big, strong body. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't keep up," I sniffled and wiped tears from my eyes. "I try, but I can't do the exercises and the trainers are mad at me. They pushed me so hard that I don't have the energy to walk to my room."

"The workouts are very aggressive but you'll get used to them and it will get easier. You'll see."

"I don't know, Dr Higgins," I said. "I don't think I'm cut out for this. Maybe I should go home."

"Don't say that, Eliza," the doctor replied urgently. "You know that your preliminary tests indicated that you're a one-in-a-million patient for us. The end result will be worth anything you're going through now, I'm sure of it. Please stay."

Dr Higgins looked at me with such genuine concern that I couldn't deny him. The fact that he was ridiculously good looking helped his case. A tall and fit man, and only 35 years old. All of the women at the company were gaga over his studly looks, brilliant intellect and quick wit.

"Okay, I'll stay," I agreed, "but you have to help me to my room. I'm stiffening up and I don't think I can walk on my own."

"I can do better than that. I'll give you a massage. That will make you feel better," he suggested.

"That sounds wonderful."

There was a massage table in one of the rooms, so he helped me walk there. I stripped and laid face down on the table. The doctor had already seen me naked a few times during treatments, so I had no inhibitions about showing him my wrinkly, saggy old body.

He drizzled massage oil on my back and his skinny fingers went to work. It felt good and I moaned happily when he rubbed particularly sore spots. He started at my shoulders and worked down.

I thought he'd skip over my butt, but he didn't. He grasped my soft, sagging cheeks and squeezed. "Doctor, if your treatments can do anything for my ugly, flat butt it will be a miracle," I said.

"We'll do a lot for it, you'll see," he stated. "The workouts will build up your glutes, which will improve your shape. And we'll inject a thin layer of fat under your skin, which will help with volume and appearance."

"I'll believe it when I see it," I replied skeptically.

He moved on to my legs, where I had plenty of soreness for him to work out.

After the lovely massage, I felt 100 percent better and the doctor walked me to my room. At my door, I hugged him and said, "Thank you. I needed that."

"Anytime, Eliza. I want you to come to me whenever you're struggling with the program. I'm always available for my star patient."

==

One month into the treatment and training program, I staggered into my room and collapsed on the bed. I was utterly exhausted and covered in sweat, but that had become normal to me.

Two of the other three women recruited at the same time as me had already quit. I understood why they left, but I was determined to tough it out because I was beginning to see some amazing results.

Three days a week I received the age reducing medical treatments, and three other days a week I worked out. My trainers pushed me through exercises until I literally could not do any more. Every session left me drained and barely able to walk back to my room.

The medical treatments were no cake walk either. The multitude of injections stung and left my skin sore all over.

Some of the injections were a proprietary serum that restored the elasticity of skin. Other injections were synthetic fat cells placed under the skin to replace subcutaneous fat lost to aging.

Even my new boobs were sore. The normal course of treatment would have restored my boobs to minimal A-cups, the same as they were when I was younger. But Dr Higgins requested that I allow him to give me big D-cup boobs. The treatments were perfect for natural-looking boob jobs, and since I was going to be a demonstration model the company wanted me to have enlargements.

I'd always wished I had bigger boobs, so deciding to agree was easy.

Breasts have no muscles of their own. They are made of fat, glands, milk ducts and connective tissue that provides some structural support. When regular plastic surgeons do boob jobs, they insert bags in the breast. But Galatea boob jobs aren't like that. They inject the connective tissue with chemicals that restore its elasticity and strength. Then they inject their proprietary synthetic fat cells to build the volume of the breast. The newly enlarged breasts look completely natural because they are tissue and fat, no bags added.

Dr Higgins worked on my breast enlargements for four weeks. He was like a fine artist. He did a little, then reviewed it a couple of days later and made adjustments as he went along.

"What do you think?" Dr Higgins asked when he was done.

I looked in the mirror at my new boobs. "They're big," I answered with a grin and cupped them in my hands. "And heavy."

He chuckled. "You'll get used to the weight. What about the shape? Do they look right?"

I nodded happily. "They're beautiful, doctor." My boobs had the classic shape that a young woman's might have, if she was lucky. A slope down to the nipple, then a tight curve underneath. They stood out from my chest on their own without added support. Their heft made them jiggle a lot.

"The rejuvenated connective tissue will continue to strengthen for a few more weeks," the doctor told me, "so your breasts will get a bit firmer still."

"They're already perky," I said and I stuck out my chest to make my new boobs bounce. "They're perfect."

"I'm glad you like them," he said. "I think they're my best work yet."

Dr Higgins openly admired my naked boobs and that made me feel warm all over. He was a sexy young man.

I flicked my thumbs across my hard nipples to tease him, and the contact made me inhale sharply. "My nipples are super sensitive," I practically moaned.

"That's a side effect of the skin treatments," he reminded me.

"Mmm," I purred. "It's a side effect I can live with."

"Eliza, I've observed that your personality is changing along with your physical changes," the doctor stated, always in scientist mode. "You're becoming quite flirtatious. It's interesting."

I smiled. "The attention I get now boosts my confidence. I have to be careful though because men think I'm flirting even if I just say hi."

"I can see how that might be an issue," he replied, "I'll bring in a psychiatrist to provide counseling..."

I interrupted Dr Higgins' thought process by wrapping him in a tight hug. My big naked boobs squashed against his hard muscled chest. "Thank you, doctor," I gushed sincerely. "I love my new boobs."

His arms wrapped around me too. "You're welcome, Eliza," he replied. "You are a exemplary patient."

I looked up into his eyes and stood on tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Dr Higgins smiled but scolded me, "That is not appropriate, Eliza."

"I just wanted to show my appreciation, doctor," I replied.

We released each other from our clinch and I dressed. Dr Higgins' eyes watched intently as I holstered my fat boobs in a new D-cup black lace bra.

==

Vaginal tissue becomes drier, thinner and less elastic as women age, so the Galatea treatment program addresses that too.

A porous tube was inserted in my pussy while I laid on my back. For two hours the tube oozed a thick gel of chemicals that slowly absorbed into my vaginal walls. The goop was warm and actually felt good inside me.

The treatment was repeated twice a week for six weeks.

Dr Higgins eased two fingers into my pussy to check the results of the process. "Restoration of vaginal self-lubrication appears to be a complete success," he observed. His fingers stirred around in my very wet pussy.

"I told you," I said with a smirk. "I get wet at the drop of a hat now."

His fingers curled to press and rub my inner walls. I couldn't help pumping my ass in response. "Vaginal wall elasticity seems to be fully restored also," he happily stated. His fingers kept rubbing.

"Doctor," I groaned and rocked my hips in time with the movement of his fingers.

Abruptly he pulled his fingers from me.

"Ooooh! You're a tease, Dr Higgins," I whined.

"Sorry, Eliza. I don't mean to be cruel."

I smirked again. "It's okay, Doctor. I'll think of your fingers when I get myself off later."

His eyebrows shot up. "Your personality is definitely changing."

"New body, new attitude," I saucily replied. "Beth flirted with me for about a half hour today. I never had a girl come on to me before!" Beth was a cute twenty-something secretary at the company.

He frowned. "She shouldn't do that. Our clients are not her personal dating pool."

"Has she tried it with others?"

"Yes," he grumbled.

"Don't be mad at her, Doctor. I don't swing that way, but it's still very flattering to be wanted by a cutie like her. The other ladies would probably agree. So you could say Beth provides valuable psychological support to your clients. Positive feedback is helpful when you're going through something like this."

He stared at me for a moment. "I apologize if I don't provide enough positive feedback, Eliza. I know I'm not very good at that."

"It's okay. I can tell you're proud of me, even if you don't say it."

His eyes raked over me and it made me squirm with desire. He was so hot! I was still naked from the waist down but I made no move to get dressed. "You are the perfect patient, Eliza," he praised. "You persevere through all the hard workouts and painful injections that we throw at you. And the results so far are excellent. You're on your way to becoming a stunning young-looking woman."

I blushed and smiled. "Thank you, Doctor Higgins."

==

Saturdays were work days for us because of the six-day schedule of workouts and treatments. Sunday was my only day off.

On the Saturday after the vaginal testing incident, I remarked to the doctor, "I get bored and lonely on Sundays, Dr Higgins. Hardly anyone is here and there's nothing to do."

"Would you like to go home for the day?" he inquired.

I should've been eager to see my husband by then, but I wasn't. So I made up an excuse. "I don't think that's a good idea. I might fall back into bad eating habits."

"True. You could go for a hike," was his next suggestion. "There are beautiful places near here."

"I'm afraid I'd get lost or run into a bear," I replied. "Will you go with me?"

"Um, I'm not sure..."

"You probably have plans with your girlfriend," I said sadly.

"No, no girlfriend."

I brightened. "Oh, good. We can keep each other company. Please? I don't want to spend another Sunday alone. I'll get the kitchen to pack a lunch and we'll have a picnic."

"Well, okay," Dr Higgins agreed. "I'll meet you here at eleven."

The Galatea Inc building sits on a hilltop outside of Knoxville, Tennessee. The view from the building is of the Smoky Mountains in the distance, which are always beautiful.

Sunday was a warm summer day. Dr Higgins wore a t-shirt, shorts and hiking boots. He carried a small backpack with our picnic lunch and a blanket in it. I admired the way his muscles stretched his t-shirt. I wore sneakers, skin-tight booty shorts, and a sports bra that struggled to contain my new big boobs.

He led me down the hill and along a country road with no traffic. We chatted about everything and nothing. I relished the time alone with him.

We walked up a smaller hill to a little clearing near the top. With the trees all around, we couldn't see any buildings, roads, cars or any other signs of people at all. "This is a beautiful place, Doctor," I told him.

"I discovered it several months ago. It's my secret spot."

"Thank you for bringing me."

He spread the big blanket on the ground next to a huge oak tree, then sat with his back against the tree. "Ah," he sighed happily. "I love it here."

I sat between his strong legs and leaned back against his chest.

My boldness surprised him and he gave me a funny look. "Getting comfortable?" he asked.

I smirked. "Very comfortable," I answered and laughed. "I'll move if you want me to."

"No, it's okay." His arms snaked around my waist and his hands rested on my stomach.

I luxuriated in the warmth of his embrace. Birds chirped and a breeze ruffled the tree leaves. It was heaven.

"Why do you spend so much time with me?" I inquired. I'd been curious for a while. "All of the women in the company are crazy about you, but here you are with little old me."

"Eliza, you invited me on this hike."

"Yes, but you didn't have to accept. And you do spend a lot of extra time with me. You know you do."

He considered his response for a long moment. "A psychiatrist would probably say it's because I remade you, and I'm possessive of my greatest creation. I don't know, that may be true," he explained.

I twisted around to face him. I put my hands on the sides of his head and gave him a big kiss. He was surprised and still as a statue for a moment, but I didn't give up. My lips were demanding and his eventually began to respond.

I broke the kiss and was panting with excitement. "Dr Higgins, I've wanted to do that for weeks."

Two months of isolation and struggle had reduced my world to the Galatea facility and the people in it. Dr Higgins was everything to me.

"Eliza, we shouldn't," he said. "You're my patient and you're married."