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Making Cathy Happy free porn video
MAKING CATHY HAPPY
By Tammie Anne Freeman
It wasn't fair. Why should I have to go summer school just
because I didn't pass the state test to get into ninth
grade? I had worked hard and got passing grades in eighth
grade after having failed eighth grade the previous year.
Now instead of summer fun I would have summer school.
I would just as soon have dropped out of school, but my
mother and dad insisted I remain in school. I didn't see
the point. Even if I passed the state test after summer
school, I still would only be in ninth grade. At best I
would complete tenth grade two years from now.
But in two years I would be 18 years old. And I knew I
wasn't going to keep going to school after I was 18. So
there was no way I would finish high school. But when I
tried this argument with my parents; they wouldn't listen
to me.
Instead of arguing with me, my mom asked me to play with my
little sister Cathy. I normally would have refused, but
even I had noticed how depressed Cathy had recently become.
She was just 6 years old and her best friend Mary had just
moved away. The two of them had been extremely close, more
like sisters than just best friends.
I sat down to play with Cathy, and she went through the
motions without showing much interest. I tried to cheer her
up, but failed miserably.
"I'm sorry, but I tried," I said to my mom. "Cathy really
needs a playmate her own age."
"You're probably right," my mom agreed, "but there isn't
anyone close by who is her age. Too bad you're not 10 years
younger."
"I wish I was 10 years younger," I joked, "then I wouldn't
have to go to summer school, and I'd graduate from high
school by the time I was 18."
After I made the comment, there was a moment of silence. I
wondered why I had made such a stupid statement. But
surprisingly my mom didn't think it was so stupid.
"That's a good idea, Alan," she said, "I'll have to talk to
your father about it."
I wondered what was a good idea, and what she needed to
talk to dad about.
"And thanks for offering," she said, "it's not many 16
year-olds who will offer to become 6 year-olds just to make
their little sister happy."
I felt like arguing with my mother that I wasn't offering
to become 6 years old. But it wasn't going to happen
anyway, so I didn't say anything.
I knew there were rejuvenation treatments to make the very
old younger. I also knew that making the young younger was
almost always illegal. And even if I could get the
treatments, the cost was prohibitive; there was no way my
parents could afford them.
***
I didn't expect to be in rejuvenation the next day.
Apparently there was a special government program for
students who had academic problems and would be unlikely to
ever graduate. It both allowed and paid for the
rejuvenation treatments.
I was a little hesitant to become ten years younger. I was
6'2" tall right now, and wasn't too thrilled about becoming
4'2" tall. I was glad that I wouldn't have to go to summer
school, but the idea of going back to first grade in the
fall wasn't very appealing. But when I thought about it, I
realized that going to first grade would be a breeze, while
going to ninth grade would be a struggle.
Maybe it would be best this way. I would have another ten
years of childhood, have a much easier and successful time
at school, and would probably graduate from high school.
And I would have summers filled with fun instead of filled
with schoolwork.
So I agreed to become 6 years old and underwent the
rejuvenation treatments over the next few days. When I got
home from rejuvenation, my mom showed me the clothes I
would be wearing. It was the same clothes I had worn 10
years ago and outgrown. I was surprised my old clothes were
still around. Mom explained that she had stored them in the
attic, and had forgotten about them until now.
I dressed in my old clothes and it brought back the
memories from a decade ago. I looked in the mirror and saw
a reflection of myself from the past. And everything around
me seemed to have gotten so much bigger. Both my mom and
dad seemed to have become giants.
I went up to my sister Cathy, and asked her if she wanted
to play. She perked up a little, seeing how her older
brother was now the same height as she was. She seemed a
little more involved than before. But when we got done
playing, she seemed as unhappy as ever.
"I tried my best," I told my mom, "but Cathy is still
unhappy. She needs a girl for a playmate, not a boy."
"That's probably true," my mom sighed, "but I'm not sure I
like the idea of you becoming a girl. I prefer to have a
son and a daughter instead of two daughters. But it was
sweet of you to offer."
I wanted to object, to say that I had offered no such
thing, but I didn't see the point in it. Why argue that I
didn't want to become a girl when my mom said she didn't
want me to become one.
***
A couple days later I found myself taking sexual alteration
treatments. My mom said that her and dad decided to take me
up on my offer, and that a neighborhood feminist group had
agreed to foot the bill. I wanted to argue that I had
offered no such thing. But instead I found myself just
nodding my head and going along.
***
A few days later I came home from the sexual alteration
center. My mom had me put on some of Cathy's clothes, and
styled my hair just like Cathy's. I looked in the mirror
and could hardly believe what I saw. I looked remarkably
like Cathy. We were almost identical.
Mom said that my name was now going to be Ellen instead of
Alan. I went to play with Cathy, and she seemed more
involved than she had been before. But she continued to
call me Alan, and insisted that I was her brother and not
her sister.
***
I was frustrated that all my efforts to make her happier
had failed. In the days that followed I became more
depressed. Cathy didn't want to play very much, and there
wasn't any one else around to play with. Finally it all got
to me and I started to cry.
Cathy came over and asked me what was wrong. I cried that I
had become a 6 year-old girl, and now I didn't have anyone
to play with.
"I'll play with you, Ellen," Cathy said.
We played together the rest of the day and her disposition
brightened considerably. I guess what Cathy had needed most
was to be needed.
Cathy and I became even closer than Cathy had been with
Mary. We did everything together; we even slept in the same
bed. I even learned to enjoy playing dolls with her. I was
glad I had become Cathy's sister, and wouldn't have gone
back to being a 16 year-old boy for anything. Looking back,
I realized that that in making Cathy happy, I had also made
myself happy.
THE END
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