The Astounding Adventures Of Timmy Johnson free porn video

The Astounding Adventures of Timmy Johnson By Nikki Mouton-Cadet Let Timmy Johnson tell his story in his own words: Introduction Hi Everyone. First off, "Timmy Johnson" is not my real name. So, don't try looking me up in any catalogues or registers. When I was born, too long ago to think about now, my loving parents named me; Timothy Andrew Johnson. But, for some reason, ever since all those changes, they call me Timmy. I suppose, after all these years, I'm okay with that. You can call me Timmy if you like. Right now, I am sitting on the steps of a shabby office block in a major Northern city that shall remain nameless. I am waiting for the Bureau to open. Why am I waiting? Good question. The truth is that I have been thrown-out by my latest guardians and I need to be re- settled. So, I have been waiting outside the Re-settlement Bureau for the last week, waiting for the Agent to come and open-up. There has been no sign of anyone so far, which is a bit upsetting. But I try to be stoical and resilient. Why did my latest guardians kick me out? I guess they must have got sick of me. I suppose it must be a bit annoying having a young teenager hanging around all the time. Especially if you are a couple who can't stand kids. They're like that. They all start out volunteering to be well-intentioned carers for us 'rejuvies.' But after a while, they get fed-up with us. It's happened to me more often than I care to remember. Just so that you know, I was one of the first. I was one of the first people on planet-Earth to receive Rejuve-Therapy. That was at the time when it was too expensive for the general population to be able to afford. Back in those days, there was no Matriarchal Society to keep us males in our place. For me, rejuve-therapy came at exactly the right time. I had grown old and creaky and was unhappily looking forward to a lengthy and miserable old-age. Then, some of the exclusive clinics started promoting this new therapy, as they called it. It was targeted at those of us with sufficient wealth to be able to finance the whole thing. It wasn't just the jacked-up prices the pharmacy industry was charging for the drugs. We also had to make a substantial payment to a special trust fund to be able to pay for our extended youthfulness. I didn't have much in the way of personal wealth. Just a couple of billion dollars. But, I did control many billions more and was able to move some capital around to be able to afford it all. Back in those days I was a member of a very exclusive private club of multi-billionaires. There were about a hundred of us uber-rich people who clubbed together to set up the fund and the Bureau. It was all well-regulated and the trust managers were under the strictest scrutiny by the Board of Trustees. We were to be well catered for, for the rest of our extended lives. The PR people managed to sell the idea that "Rejuve" had been fully researched and trialled. The brochures and testaments from many eminent scientists were very persuasive. It all looked too good to be true. I wasn't a complete fool and made damn-sure my team looked into all the angles before I made any commitments. It was my intention to take my physical body back to, about, my early twenties. In those years, I was at my fittest and healthiest. I had a ripped and hunky body, a fully-functioning libido and an active sex- life. Who wouldn't want that all over again? I would have my youth back and enough funding to keep me in the lap of luxury. So, why is it, all these decades later, that a scruffy, young teenage boy is sitting on the steps outside a shabby office-block, in a shabby part of town, wearing filthy, ragged clothes scrounged from a charity shop? How has it come to this? I would imagine some of the smarter people reading this can probably guess. When I started the course of drugs the therapists presented the utmost confidence. They showed me charts and graphs with decay-curves and dosages. It was all very plausible. Remember, I had a team of legal- experts ready to swing into action if it turned out to be a pack of lies. I wasn't a complete idiot. I booked myself into their exclusive spa in Aspen for the first part of the treatment. I took one of the executive suites with spare room for visitors. I had planned for the time to be "Business-as-Usual" for the Johnson Corporation. I was only there for two weeks while they started the treatment. I was prescribed a full dose of "Rejuve" the wonder drug. Then I was permanently hassled by the nursing staff as they monitored my progress. They took blood tests, height and weight measurements and I even went in for MRI scans. There wasn't too much change at first. I still needed to walk with my stick and couldn't manage the stairs too well. My digestion was pretty poor and my sleep patterns were still erratic. But, by the end of the fortnight, the head-quack pronounced I was on the way. He issued me with a full course of Rejuve, shook my hand, and signed me out of the clinic. I was then transported, by private jet, to an island in the Caribbean. It had previously belonged to some British entrepreneur. Being one of the super-rich, he had been offered a chance to join our cartel but had declined. Sad for him. But he did give us a long lease on the island where we could go through our metamorphosis in private. It was like an exclusive hotel resort. We had the best accommodation, the finest food and wine and the attention of the discrete and gorgeous staff. I started feeling some changes after the first month. Just small things. I had a full night's sleep without having to get up. I was able to go down for breakfast without using my stick. The really big event was the morning when I saw my hair was growing back. That was very impressive. I was feeling happy enough to get my lawyers to stand-down. Then changes started coming thick-and-fast. I started dropping weight. I got my youthful skin-tone back. I started feeling sexy. That was also very impressive. But there were other changes I didn't notice. I started losing interest in work. I had signed a power-of-attorney and my deputy stopped sending me emails or messages. I didn't care. I was enjoying the island lifestyle too much. I had to get rid of all my old clothes. None of them fitted any more. Instead, the staff got me some shorts and leisure shirts suitable for a young person. To start off with I was a bit picky about what I wore. It all had to be masculine and manly as befits a young stud. As the months progressed I changed even more. One major thing was that I started losing interest in the female staff. I can tell you, back in my earlier years I was a man's man. I had dated and had many relationships with gorgeous women. When I got married that didn't change. I had two sons and a daughter from that relationship, before the divorce. And I had more kids with my other partners. So, you can see, I was a completely normal hetero male. No doubt about it. That's what I had been hoping to get back with this drug treatment. I confess, I had tried other treatments in the past, only to be disappointed. But, this time it seemed to be working. I had regained my vim and vigour. I had a full head of light brown hair. I had a firm jaw with no extra chins. I looked and felt great. Life was good. But things were due to change in ways no one could possibly imagine. Small Changes and Big Changes For me, the next change I noticed was that I started losing my body hair. It started with my chest hair. I didn't have a full-rug, but there was enough for me to look manly. Yet, looking in the mirror one morning I noticed there was almost none left. I just put it out of my mind. Life was too good to be worrying about little things like that. So, it was, that I didn't notice when I lost my armpit hair. Then the hair on my arms and legs. And finally, my pubic hair just went away. By this time, I wasn't really interested in things like that. To be honest, I wasn't really interested in anything very serious. I had stopped dating any of the female staff. I just spent my time swimming in the sea, lounging by the pool and watching adventure movies. Then I had to throw all my clothes out and get some new stuff again. The Steward got me some speedo swimming trunks and cute tee-shirts. I asked him about other clothes and he said he would have to wait until my therapy finished and my age and physique had settled down. One thing that I did notice. The staff started treating me differently. I went down to breakfast one morning and I was just wearing a pair of light-blue speedos. The steward looked down at me and smiled. "Hey there, Pumpkin," he greeted, "Looking cute today." "Thanks Sir," I replied, grinning up at him, "These are my favourite briefs. Can you get me some more like this?" "Why don't you come over to the Commissary later and we can look through the catalogues." "I'd love that," I said. It was such fun looking at the glossy pictures and imagining what I would look like wearing the cute clothes. He ruffled my hair and patted me on the butt. I loved it when he did that. They had moved me out of the big suite I'd originally occupied when I first arrived. Some other rejuvie was in there now. I was moved into a smaller room with a single bed, a shower, a closet and a desk for me to do my hobbies. I'd got interested in making model airplanes, which I could order via the commissary. There were about a dozen of us rejuvies on the island by this time. Some of them had responded to the drugs really well and were looking great. They treated me like their pet mascot and I loved the attention they gave me. My special friend was Simon. He looked to be about eighteen years old, following his course of drugs. He had a slim, swimmers build and a cheerful smile. When he wore his speedos there was a nice bulge, suggesting a good-sized cock. We got on really well and he treated me as a little brother. If I ever annoyed him he would pretend to frown, grab me and tickle me until I was breathless. I loved it. The best times were when he slipped his hand under the waistband of my trunks to tickle my peeny or my little nuggets. One time, he even slipped my trunks off and played with my tight little butt-hole. It really surprised me he when he did that. Especially when he slipped his finger inside me. I giggled and squirmed in delight. The reason I am telling you all these intimate details is to try and explain just how much I had changed in such a short space of time. Instead of being a fit, healthy, athletic hunk with the sexual capacity of a rutting stag, I had morphed into a skinny, little twelve or thirteen-year-old boy, covered in freckles, with no pubic hair and much-reduced genitals. Also, I seemed to have lost my interest in women and girls. For some reason, I now much preferred the attention of cute boys and young men. And there were plenty of rejuvies who had come to prefer young boys. I can't explain what had happened, but I guess the drug companies hadn't tested Rejuve properly after-all. To start off with, they couldn't rejuvenate people to their preferred age. It was all guess- work. You could end-up at almost any age. Then there were the psychological changes. I had completely lost my focus on business. I wasn't interested in serious things. I couldn't concentrate on books or movies that weren't about adventure. All I wanted to read were comic-books. Then there was the sex. Me and Simon Because we were on the island, there were no moral guardians to bother us. If we wanted to have sex. It didn't matter when, where or how. We could just please ourselves. The first time I had sex with Simon was at one of our barbecue parties. The staff had set up a grill on the big patio and decorated the trees and bushes with lanterns. I adored the magical way it lit the villa up. There was music on the sound-system and the long table was laid out with drinks and snacks of all kinds. A few of us had been skinny-dipping in the pool and finally climbed out for a rest. Most of us were completely naked by this time and I can tell you I was enjoying the view. I was surround by all these cute, hunky boys with great bodies. I was in heaven. They had allowed me to have a couple of glasses of the tropical fruit cocktails and I was feeling loosened up and happy. Simon insisted we sit around with the rest of the rejuvie-boys and they all treated me really special. After a while, they started pairing off. Some of the couples wandered away to find somewhere private, while others just started making-out right where they were. The whole sexiness of the scene really aroused me, and my little boy-nub strained to get big. Except, for some reason, it wouldn't get stiff. I had been playing with myself quite a lot over the preceding weeks and the sheer novelty of shooting ropes of cum again made me almost faint with excitement. But, recently that all seemed to have stopped. I was lucky if I managed to get hard. I still managed to have an orgasm and produce a bit of jism, but it wasn't very much. Anyway, Simon lay next to me. He turned my face to his and leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. I opened up for him and was soon sucking on his tongue while he tried to massage my tonsils. No. Stop. This isn't a sexy or romantic way to describe how I lost my virginity. I'll try and paint a picture for you. I want you to be looking at the scene. It is a bright, warm night with a full moon. The sound of the waves on the beach blends with the music from the speakers. I am feeling heady and receptive to any suggestions. I have been making-out with Simon for the past month and we are beginning to know what the other one likes. Two newly-minted young bodies are lying on the deck next to the pool. I close my eyes while Simon strokes my flat tummy, down to my rubbery little boy-nub. I am squirming with delight at the sensations running through my body. I am stroking Simon's lovely cock. It is a good five inches long and I can get my hand all the way around it. I have been hoping that Simon would fuck me some time soon. He has been playing with my little boy-pucker for over a month and I like it a lot. To start off with he would tease his finger around the tight rim. Then, he would find some lubrication and, gently massage around, and inside my hole. First one finger so I can get used to the feeling. Then two fingers to stretch me open. At first, it hurt a little. But I soon got used to it. The next thing was him pumping his middle finger in and out. It was while he was doing this that he did something that made me squeal with enjoyment. He had found a spot inside me that sent a shock up my little nub and down to my creamy-nuggets. I nearly swooned with the feeling. After he had massaged that spot for some minutes, I managed to shoot two little squirts of boy-juice. It felt heavenly. Now, on this magical, tropical night, I felt I was ready. I wanted Simon to take me and have me. "Oh, Simon," I moaned, softly. "What is it Pumpkin?" he asked. "I need it real-bad." "Need what, Baby?" he teased, knowing full-well what I wanted from him. "I need you to take me. I need your beautiful cock up inside me. Please Simon." I pleaded, "I need it real-bad." "For my little baby-boy princess, nothing is too much to ask." He found some lube and started preparing my tight, little rosebud, like he had done so many times before. I squirmed with delight and couldn't help from squealing in excitement. While he prepared my boy-pussy with one hand, the other was playing with my pricklet. Using his thumb and fore-finger he teased my little nub, giving me a wonderful feeling. When he was ready, Simon rolled me over, on to my side, and raised my leg to allow his rigid cock access to my hole. He positioned it, and eased in gently. By this time, I was eagerly looking forward to my first good fucking. It felt a bit big at first, but I had been well- prepared and the initial pain soon went away. He sunk his cock into me, right up to the hilt, and kept it there for a few seconds. Then, he slowly slid back until his lovely, silken tip was nearly out. Then he pushed back inside and started a steady fucking rhythm. It was almost too much for me. This is what I had been waiting for since he and I had hooked up. If you had told me, four months ago, that Rejuve would turn me into a cock-hungry pubescent boy I would have laughed at you. But now, I wouldn't have changed it for anything. I looked it up once. I had become a catamite. I was a Ganymede. I was that Trojan youth who had been abducted by Zeus to be his juvenile fuck-toy. I had become a boy who loved being loved by men. And I loved it. Simon fucked me hard that first time. He pounded my tight, little boy-hole until I squealed and shot a few pearls of my boy-juice. Then he shot ropes of his manly cum up inside me. When he took his softening cock out of my pussy I cried at the loss. But I had nothing to fear. I looked up to find we were surrounded by the rest of the hunky-rejuvies. They had witnessed my ritual deflowering with obvious enjoyment. A couple of them lifted me upright and raised my leg so Simon could take me again. This time, he lasted a lot longer and I was glad of the support. He took me three more times that night. My First Girly Clothes The first time I dressed up in girl's clothes was a complete surprise to me. Being on the island, we had to order all our clothes online. I loved going to the commissary and looking through the catalogues. The steward was always very helpful, and made sure he checked my measurements with a tape-measure before making any orders. I had completely changed sizes since I first arrived and now I was a thirteen-year-old boy. I needed a whole new wardrobe for when I got dressed. I had some cute swimming bikini-trunks in pink and powder blue. Plus, I had a floral satin robe that I had selected all by myself. Simon had decided that I needed some new shorts, underwear and tops, so I could look smart. We sat in the office with the steward while we went through all the various styles and designs. Simon chose three pairs of shorts for me. The first was a brief pair of Daisy-Dukes, whatever that meant. There were made of a blue, faded material and were cut to show my legs and tight butt. The next were a pair of pink satin shorts. I couldn't wait to try them on. They came with a matching top. It was made of the same material but was cut to be short. My whole tummy was left completely bare. Simon thought I would look really cute in an outfit like that, so he ordered another one in lilac. I cuddled his neck and kissed his cheek for being so nice to me. He loved it when I did that and patted my butt, which he knew always turned me on. The next thing he ordered was a costume to wear at the next formal party. Some of the older rejuvies had got together with the manager and arranged for formal evening once-or-twice a month. To start off with, I went in my shorts and a clean tee-shirt. But Simon decided I really needed to start dressing-up for them. We went through the catalogue and he pointed-out a number of cute outfits. The one we ended-up going for was a kind-of fancy-dress theme. He selected a pair of harem pants for me. They were in pale- blue chiffon, which suited my eyes. I couldn't see from the catalogue, but they were 'slashed' down the length of the legs so I would reveal lots of bare flesh. What I also didn't know was that they had an open vent at the rear. I also got a matching 'bolero' waistcoat in a shiny blue colour to match. There were a pair of curly-toed slippers and, to finish-off the ensemble, I got a pair of pink, frilly 'tanga' briefs and a matching top. I didn't know at the time, but I guess you would call it a training bra. That was the very first item of clothing I ever wore that you would definitely call girly. I know some of my other new clothes were a bit frilly, or came in cute 'femme' colours, but they were all for boys, whatever you might think or say. Me wearing a training bra was the first real step on a long road I would be taking. The costume was delivered in good time for the next 'formal' social. Simon insisted I try it on, so he could take some photo images of me. I was so excited I couldn't bear to wait. I rushed to my room and started getting ready. I stripped out of my shorts, crop-top and briefs and, completely naked, unwrapped the exciting new packages of the clothes that were just for me. The briefs were made of a stretch, satin material in pale pink. There was lace trim around the waist and down the hems of the leg-holes. But there was also lace trim down the back, where there was a vent running from the waist and down past my secret place. I looked up at Simon with big eyes. "That's there so that I can get you when I need to." He assured me. "And will you need to?" I asked, all innocent-like. "Let's find-out when you get fully dressed." I slipped the briefs up my smooth legs. I have to tell you that they did feel heavenly. And when I managed to get the training bra on, I nearly fainted with how cute I looked. The top was made of the same material as the briefs and had the same decorative lace. Next, I put the 'bolero' jacket on. It was quite small and didn't meet across my chest, so you could see my flat bra. Also, it was very short. When I put the harem pants on there was a big gap showing my bare midriff. The pants were completely see-through, and you could see my briefs. Thankfully, they were nice and opaque, so I still had some modesty. The gaps down the legs meant that you could see lots of my bare flesh. It was almost as if I wasn't wearing any clothes at all. Simon was nearly drooling as he looked at me with that look he has. I think he selected this outfit more for himself than for me. I quickly got undressed so as not to ruin my lovely new outfit. At the same time, he peeled off his briefs and tee-shirt and threw me, bodily, down on my bed. Sometimes I wonder where Simon gets his passion from. He was kissing me all over my face and neck and chest and tummy. At the same time, he was playing with my little penis and testicles. The feeling was completely yummy and I ran my fingers through his hair. All too soon, he had shifted his attention to my boy-pussy and was slicking himself-up, ready for the main action. I can tell you, ever since that first time when he had taken my cherry, I had grown to love being fucked up my bottom. It had become my favourite thing of all time. The initial pain had been replaced by a delicious itch. I thought it was an itch I would probably never be able to satisfy. I felt his rigid dick pushing urgently against my tight ring and, with one 'grunt' he slipped inside me. "Oooh! Simon!" I moaned in pleasure, "Fuck-me! Fuck-me! Please give me your cock." And he did. He pounded into me with all his might-and-main. His balls bounced against my tight butt. I was taken to paradise and I loved every second of it. I suppose it must be hard to explain how I came to love being violated like that. But it was all I lived for now. We never did take any photographs that time. We had to wait for the 'formal' before I got any pictures to see how cute I looked. My First Dress-Up Social I couldn't wait for the next party night. I thought Simon might get fed-up with my carry-on and throw me in the pool, I was so excited. The other rejuvies treated me like I was a silly, little kid, which I suppose I had become. And I wasn't the only one. Another rejuvie had arrived a week earlier. His name was Robert, so we all called him 'Robby'. He was another one like me. His treatment had regressed him to about twelve-years-old. He arrived wearing a strange outfit. He wore a frilly, satin shirt, which he called a 'blouse', with lots of flounces down the front and on the collar and cuffs. He was also wearing a short, little plaid kilt with a buckle that fastened on the side. For footwear, he had a pair of sandals and knee-high white socks. I thought he looked ever-so cute and told him so. "Thank you," he replied, politely. "I like your outfit." I was actually wearing one of my normal pairs of briefs and matching crop-top. But he called them my knickers and bra. I wondered what he was talking about, but was soon referring to all my clothes like that. He had spent the previous two years in the outside world and things were starting to change out there. He had brought quite a lot of luggage with him and it included many outfits like the one he was wearing. I helped him settle in his new room, with all his clothes to hang-up in his big wardrobe. I was amazed at the whole variety of outfits he had. He had numerous 'blouses' and 'skirts'. They were all very cute and the sheer numbers made me nearly dizzy. But the best thing was the huge selection of underwear he had. Knickers and training bras in soft colours and textures. Some with cute patterns and frills. I loved them all and was very jealous. Robby saw me admiring them and selected a set, still in its wrapper. "Here," He said, generously, you can have these for helping me. The colour goes with your pretty eyes." They were a kind-of pale lilac with pink lace-trim and yellow flowers in a pattern. "Thank you," I breathed quietly. Tears started trickling down my cheeks. No one had been this generous to me as long as I could remember. I got very emotional. Robby took my hands and we sat down together on his bed. "We are going to be the best of friends," he said, "and we will have lots of adventures together." He kissed me on the cheek and wiped the tears from my eyes with a soft finger. I told him all about the dress-up party and asked if he had a nice party dress. He grinned and said I could help him select something. One thing that worried me, in the run-up to the party, was that Simon didn't seem to be around at all. Normally we would have breakfast and lunch together. Then we could while-away the days with whatever we felt like doing. The worry was that for the last few days he didn't seem to have been around at all. To start off with I hardly noticed as I was busy making friends with Robby. And, as I have told you, I was getting so excited about going to the party in my fancy costume. Robby had decided to go as an Egyptian princess. He improvised a pleated loin-cloth from some old sheets, wore a glittery crop-top and draped a multicoloured chiffon sarong around his waist and shoulders. He made a head-piece out of cardboard and painted it gold. The effect was fabulous and complemented my own costume perfectly. We were sure to be a hit! By the Saturday morning I was fretting with nervousness. Robby decided to style my hair. He made me wash it three times and then put some conditioner in. I never usually did that. The truth is that my hair was really quite short. More of a floppy-mop than gorgeous tresses. But I was happy with it like that. Instead, he spent some time combing it to an attractive style and sprayed something to hold it. And that was when he produced his piece-de-resistance. He had made a perky little pill-box cap for me. He made the body out of cardboard and covered it in blue cloth to match my costume. He also dressed it with a blue, chiffon veil. I was so please that I couldn't stop myself from smothering him in kisses. But there was still no sign of Simon. If you want to know the truth, I was beginning to get a bit stressed through lack of intimate physical activity. I was really beginning to miss the firm way Simon would take charge of our energetic love- making. And it had only been about four days. I had really grown accustomed to being his pet fuck-toy. I started worrying that I might have said or done something wrong to make him mad at me. That would be terrible. That was a measure of how much I had changed since starting my 'rejuve' therapy. The old Timothy Andrew Johnson, founder and Chairman of "Johnson Industrial and Financial Enterprises" would never have worried about what another person might think. He would be too interested in seeing what angles he might use to make money out of the situation. He sounds like a complete jerk to me. Robby and I were prepared well in advance of the official start time of the party. We were sitting in his room, listening to some cheesy pop-songs and lip-synching the vocals. I had never done anything like that before. I was having so much fun that I managed to forget about all my woes. Robby decided it was high-time for me to start making myself more glamorous. He determined to put varnish on my fingernails. He had some glittery-pink stuff that he said would go with the pale-blue of my outfit. Between us, laughing and bickering, it nearly took an hour before they were done to Robby's satisfaction. I sat, admiring the finished result. I agreed with Robby. They did look glamorous. I was feeling mighty-fine. We were just-about ready to make our big- entrance in the bar when Robby came up with one more surprise for me. "And to go with the nail-varnish, you need this." He held out a short tube. Pink lipstick. I hesitated. All of the other things in my transformation had come naturally. The knickers and training bras. Trying to be more stylish and making myself attractive so I could please my man. Even the nail- varnish. These all seemed perfectly reasonable. So, why did I feel that the lipstick was one step too far? Robby applied some of the colour to his own lip and 'smooched' them in the mirror. Now it was my turn. I stared at the tube for about seventy minutes. It was actually about five seconds, but it felt like seventy minutes. Robby grinned at me, took the tube and leaned forward to apply a layer to my bottom lip. And that was it. With that one simple, but significant action, I had transitioned from being a man, to being a boyish boy, to being a cute little girly-boy. If you want to know the truth, it didn't feel bad at all. Just in case you don't know, all my life there had been men transitioning to become women and vice versa. By the time I had become and old man gender-fluidity was an accepted fact. But you can believe me when I tell you that us manly-men still ruled the roost. At least, that's what I thought. How little I actually knew. Robby led me out to the party and all the hunky rejuvie-boys cheered, whistled and clapped at our grand arrival. The bar had been decorated and there were trestles laden with all sorts of good food and drink. The sound-system was playing 'grand-ball' music. Almost before I had arrived one of the big-boys took me in his arms for a waltz. I was a bit concerned about this and I guess it must have shown in my general demeanour. "What's the matter, Timmy?" My partner enquired. "I'm afraid that Simon might catch me dancing with you. I think he would want to have the first dance with me." "You shouldn't worry about that. I don't think Simon will be worrying for much longer." I wonder what he meant by that. The evening wore on. I danced with all the big boys, and even some of the stewards. They were dressed in formal tuxedos, which made them look very smart indeed. I particularly liked dancing with Mister Bryce. He was the Chief Steward and made all the day-to-day decisions. He was very protective of us Juvenile-Rejuvies. If we even looked like we were under-age he would be sure that we behaved ourselves. There would be no staying-up late or getting up to any mischief. Although, he was quite happy for us to indulge our rampant sex-drives. He must have noticed I wasn't entirely happy and asked me what the problem was. "It's Simon," I confessed, "I haven't seen him all week." "Ahh." He said. "The thing is that Simon is going through some changes." "What sort of changes?" I was really worried now. "He has started regressing again. The drugs must have had a boost somehow and he's losing some of his maturity." "My Goodness! How terrible it must be for him. How old is he now?" "It's hard to say. I'm no expert, but it looks like he's going back to his puberty." The effects of this new development didn't immediately strike me. I finished dancing with Mister Bryce, who invited Robby and me to join him at his table. He ordered some drinks. Wine for him and elderflower spritzers for us 'minors'. He sat between us and was very complimentary about our costumes. I told him about the vent at the rear of my pants and knickers and he laughed. He said he would like to see that. But not here in public. You might think I am stupid, but I couldn't see where all this was leading. The truth is that I was going to lose Simon as my lover, except I didn't know it yet. In the meanwhile, Mister Bryce understood perfectly-well what was going on and was laying the ground so-as to make his move. I went to bed that night with mixed emotions. I was feeling horny and frustrated and there didn't seem to be anything I could do about it. Much as I liked Robby, he didn't have the necessary size of equipment to be able to satisfy my sexual needs. As an experiment, I tried fingering my hole myself. I had washed properly, so it wasn't gross. I found some body lotion to use a lubrication. First, I tried with one finger. I can tell you, it felt good. I eased it in and gently massaged the sensitive area around the pucker. After a while, I tried with two fingers and that felt even better. I got goose-bumps with how good it felt. I had shivers up- and-down my spine. But, the problem was, no matter how I plunged my fingers in and out, they weren't long enough to get really deep inside and find my special spot. After a while I gave-up. I decided to talk it over with Mister Bryce in the morning. He might be able to suggest something. The following day was a Sunday, so we had a lazy brunch. A breakfast buffet was lined-up with trays of bacon, scrambled egg, pancakes, hash-browns and all the other things for a leisurely morning. Robby came and joined me. He was looking perky and well-scrubbed. He was wearing a short pink-cotton night dress with rabbits on the design. It was so short you could see his knickers. They had pink- and-white stripes with yellow lace around the legs. Even for sleeping, he has really good taste in clothing. "I like your nighty and knickers," I told him. "How would it be if I got a set just like it?" "That would be super-fabulous. Then we would be like twins." For some reason, that made me very happy. By eleven-o-clock, Simon still hadn't put in an appearance, so I went to visit Mister Bryce and ask his advice. He was sitting out on the front deck, sipping coffee and reading a glossy magazine. He looked up and smiled. "Hello, Timmy. You're looking very cute this morning. I hope you've recovered from the excitement of last night." I was wearing a matching set of pale-blue knickers with a matching crop-top vest. It was one of my favourite outfits. "Good morning, Sir," I said politely. "I was wondering if I could ask your advice about something." "Well, I'll try to do my best. What's the problem?" "It's this thing with Simon." He nodded to himself. "I haven't seen him for over a week and I'm worried about a few things." "Understandable. Go on." "Well, obviously, I'm worried about Simon. Why won't he come out and join us? He knows we're his friends. We're not going to be mean to him or anything, whatever happens." "That's nice to hear. I'll certainly tell him that you are concerned. That might take his mind of his problems." "Thank you, Sir. That would be very kind. There is another thing, though." "That sounds intriguing. Tell me more." He said. More nodding. "You know me and Simon are best friends." More nodding. "It's just that I can't get used to being without him. If you know what I mean." "I'm not sure I do. Can't you be a bit more explicit." I hate to have to admit it, but one of the effects of rejuve, and all this personality change, was that I had become nervous and shy. I was never like that when I was a grown-up. I was assertive and aim- oriented. I wouldn't have blushed and gone all coy like I was doing now. Eventually, I plucked-up the courage to explain my problem. "It's just that when Simon made love to me it was the best thing in the world. And now I haven't got him making love to me I'm getting all-upset and miserable." There. I said it. "Hmmm. That's certainly a problem. I think we might be able to do something about that. Come with me." He led me into his office and fired-up the big screen on his executive desk. He seated himself in the leather chair and patted his lap, inviting me to hop-up so I could join him seeing the screen. I know it was a bit wrong of me, but I had a frisson of excitement. I wiggled my butt to make myself comfortable on Mister Bryce's lap while he pulled-up the product-page. When I saw what he had selected my eyes nearly popped out of my head. I suppose you would call then sex-toys. And there was an eye-watering selection of items. They seemed to come in all sorts of sizes, shapes, colours and materials. My mouth hung open in amazement. "Now, we need to work-out a comfortable size for you. How big was Simon's cock?" Well! I hardly knew where to put myself. Playing with Simon in an intimate environment was one thing but candidly analysing all the details to a third-party was something else entirely. I can tell you I must have blushed pink! "There's no need to be shy," He assured me. "Nothing can possibly shock me." After I had plucked-up enough courage I showed how long Simon's cock was by holding my hands apart. "Approximately twelve centimetres long. And the girth?" "What?" "How wide was it?" "I don't know. But I could wrap my hand around it." I was so embarrassed I was nearly in tears. I showed Mister Bryce and he estimated it was three centimetres. "I think the best thing is to find you a set. You can start with a beginner's one and then work your way up to something bigger." He scanned through the pages until he found the category he was looking for. I admit, I started getting interested. There were all sorts of toys for men to use. Some were plain cylinders. Some were molded to be like a realistic cock. Then there were others. One was shaped like a dog's cock and another was meant to resemble a horse's dong. I don't think I would ever be able to manage something like that. "Ah, here we are." He said, coming to a section he thought might be suitable. "How do you like the look of that?" He showed me the section. It was a small, plastic item in a translucent turquoise colour. The label copy read: "Small Dildo with Suction Cup is Perfect for Anal Beginner, Anal Plug for Anal Sex (16Cm), Green" I nodded. It seemed to be what I was looking for. He stabbed the 'purchase' button and the order was made. Throughout all of this process, while he was searching the web-pages, I hadn't noticed that his free hand had slipped down the front of my knickers and was gently massaging my little nubbin. Free from the distraction of my embarrassment I started responding to his ministrations. A warm shudder went down my body. "Ooh, Mister Bryce," I moaned, softly, "That feels so nice." I nuzzled up to his chest and he nibbled my ear. Wow! One of the senior staff wanted to play with me. How cool was that? Hi other hand now joined the first, down the front of my knickers. He fondled my balls and reached around to my boy-hole. I shuddered, deliciously. After five-or-six minutes of loving attention he lifted me up, bodily, peeled my knickers off, and lay me over the edge of the desk. He lost no time in removing his own shorts and underwear and lifted my legs to afford his cock entrance to my boy-pussy. I can tell you, without any special preparation, it was a real shock to me. Mister Bryce's cock was much bigger than Simon's. But, the truth was that he was really quite gentle. He eased his big knob past my ring of muscle and slid in quite easily. Although, I did cry out with the initial pain and discomfort. I felt completely filled-up as he plunged his member up my tight, little passage. "Ow! Ooh, Mister Bryce! That's hurts!" "It will ease off soon enough," he assured me. And I believed him. Lucky for me I greased myself up that morning. He fucked me hard and fast, plunging in and out without regard for my comfort. And I loved it. It was completely unlike how Simon fucked me. It was hard and brutal and animalistic. My poor little body was nearly shaken off the desk as his pounding of my bottom increased in intensity. At the same time, he leaned forward and gripped my bottom lip between his teeth. "Ow! Ooh, Mister Bryce! That hurts!" That's what I meant to say, except it came out as an incoherent series of cries. He must have pounded my sore bottom for over ten minutes before I felt him tense-up and plunge into me with a few final thrusts and a satisfied grunt. He withdrew his cock from me and I felt his ejaculate oozing from my well-fucked hole. I can tell you, I nearly fainted from the experience. His cock had massaged my prostate and I had produce five-or-six squirts of my boy- cum. That was the most I had managed in over three months. I felt shaken and sated. Oh, Mister Bryce. Thank you so much. That was lovely." I meant what I said. The fuck had been completely unexpected and shocking. He had taken me roughly, with no consideration to my comfort. It was great. The End of the Good Times Simon finally made a reappearance two weeks later. He had been staying in one of the guest chalets, away from the rest of us, while he went through his regression. I must admit, it was a complete shock to see him when he came down to breakfast. He had changed from the gorgeous, hunky teenager I remembered to a young kid. He was no bigger than me or Robby and had developed a youthful flush. He had become another juvenile-rejuvie. Poor Simon. He was having problems getting used to his new physique and status. The bigger boys started treating him with the same cheerful, patronising manner as they treated me. They patted his bum, which he obviously hated, and called him 'Peanut' as a pet-name. I would guess that he was quite depressed. He wandered around with a flat expression on his face. His shoulders were slumped and he couldn't look anyone in the eye. It was almost as if he wasn't fully there. Me and Robby tried to befriend the new-him and included him in all our adventures. I wouldn't be able to guess if he enjoyed them or not, but he still tagged along. He still wore his 'older-teenager' clothes, but they didn't fit him at all. Not at all. He had to tie his shorts around his waist with a length of cord and his tee-shirts hung off his slender frame like a tent. He declined any offers of a loan of my or Robby's clothes. Poor Simon. One time, Robby and I determined that we would start exploring the island. It had been our normal habit to loaf around the Rejuvie accommodation, or go swimming in the sea but we had got bored with all that. We did have other things to occupy us. I enjoyed making miniature models, Robby enjoyed clothes and fashions and the bigger lads enjoyed endless sex, sun, sand and sea. But there comes a time when endless luxury loses its allure. So, us 'juvie-rejuvies' went out to see what we could see. I told you that some eccentric British trillionaire had leased us the island, but he had retained title to the big colonial house on the hill near the centre. It had formerly been a plantation-owner's villa and had a sort-of old-world elegance. We had been warned not to go there but curiosity got the better of us. We dressed-up as if for a long hike. I wore my 'Daisy-Duke' shorts, a pair pf pink knickers and a matching cropped-vest. Once I put my sandals and broad-brimmed hat on I felt ready to go exploring the rugged mountains. Robby wore a pair of tight shorts in a pink camouflage pattern, with a matching tee-shirt. This was a real change from his normal elegant blouses and skirts. Simon just wore his baggy shorts and tee-shirt. If you want to know the truth, I don't think he had washed himself or his clothes since he came back. He was definitely smelling a bit rank. I mentioned it to Mister Bryce after one of our vigorous-fuck- sessions. I had fallen off the desk half-way through, so he'd flipped me over and fucked me, doggy-fashion, until he had one of his massive, orgasmic cums. I had got used to the big girth of his cock. It filled me right up. I think my eyes had crossed with the astounding passion and energy of it all. Once I had managed to get myself back together I broached the subject of poor Simon. "He's still not right." I told Mister Bryce. "He needs looking- after." I must admit, that wasn't entirely the most elegant way of expressing my concerns. But I really did mean it. Honest. "What do you mean?" "For Fuck's Sake!" I lost my cool for the first time in years, and it wasn't anything to do with international finance. It was to do with me wanting to help a friend. "Can't any of you see? He's not the full-shilling. He needs professional help." I can tell you, Mister Bryce looked amazed at my determination in this. If you ask me, it was his duty to look after all of us. It's what he got paid for. Instead, he patted my bum and said he would see what he could do. To be honest, I wasn't content, but did nothing more. I felt bad about myself. I decided to try and help Simon as much as I could. Accordingly, we three-musketeers took the day-off to go and explore where the multi-trillionaires lived. The villa was about twenty-minutes hike from the luxury hotel where the rest of us were staying. There was a proper metalled road, so we didn't have to cut our way through a tropical rainforest, which was a bit disappointing. The kitchen had provided us with a haversack full of explorer-rations, including snack-bars, sandwiches, bottles of soda-pop and other things essential to a gruelling expedition. Robby and me started on the snack-bars shortly after we left the compound. Simon didn't seem in the mood to eat. In any event, we reached the big wrought-iron gates in good time. Peering through, we could see a helicopter landing-pad, some tennis courts and well-trimmed lawns. The question was how to get inside. Robby and me looked at each other with blank expressions. I didn't have any ideas about how to proceed. And, neither, it seems, did he. In the meanwhile, Simon had been doing some exploring of his own. He came back to join us and said he had found a gap in the hedge. That was both amazing and gratifying. Simon was starting to participate again. After I had thought about it a bit later I burst into tears and couldn't stop smiling. It was the first indication that Simon might be getting better. I couldn't have been more happy. We squeezed ourselves through the narrow gap in the hedge and found ourselves in a small grove of shrubs. We spent some minutes brushing leaves and twigs off each-other and went exploring the grounds. The villa itself was probably out-of-bounds, but the rest of the grounds were fair-game. We didn't bother trying to be stealthy, imagining that there would be no occupants, so you can imagine our surprise when we wandered around the corner of the building and found the deck of a large pool occupied. There was this old-guy laying on one of the loungers. My first impression was of this wrinkled old geezer with chestnut-bronzed skin, sparse, grey goatee and thinning hair. He wore a perpetual, genial smile as he saw us amble into view. "What do we have here?" he asked in a cultured. British accent. "International terrorists, malign trespassers or some rejuvenated boys who have lost their way?" We giggled at his remarks. "Pardon us, Sir," Robby said, becoming the spokes-boy for us all. "We didn't mean to cause offense, but we were just curious about what lay behind the big hedge." That sounded like a good answer to me. "Honest words. That's probably good enough. While it is true that I value my privacy, I do miss the company of young people. So, tell me. Who are you?" That was a good question. Who exactly were we now. I decided to make a start. "I'm Timmy Johnson, also known as 'Pumpkin', formerly Timothy Andrew Johnson, global financial whizz and corporate bastard. At your service, Sir." I made a bow. "I was formerly Robert Altenshaw. Owner of 'International-Media- Corps'. Now known as Robby. At your service." Simon just grinned stupidly and grunted. That was probably enough for today. "Such formerly important company. I am honoured. As you are probably aware, I'm Richard Brassington. I could have bought and sold you all many times over. But chose not to do so." It was true. He was one of those who hadn't opted to exploit the rest of us out of existence. Also, he had not chosen to join the Rejuvenation-Revolution. I had wondered what motivated him. He invited us to join him and signalled for refreshments. That day he told us many things we didn't know about how things were going in the outside world. It didn't make for comfortable listening. In the last few years, while we had been lazing around on the island, things in North America and Europe had changed beyond imagination. There was a whole new world order. And it had nothing to do with money and politics. I won't go into details because it was very depressing and would just make you upset. Eventually, we made our farewells and departed Sir Richard Brassington's villa in a sober frame of mind. The world had changed and we had missed it. And we had no idea what that might mean for us 'Juvie-rejuvies'. We found-out a couple of weeks later. I was roused from my bed at some time in the middle of the night. "Pack a few clothes and go to the vestibule. You've got three minutes." I confess I was dazed and confused. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and felt a bit stunned, as I normally do at this time of the night. Someone grabbed my arm and hauled me, bodily, out, without any apology. Us 'juvie-rejuvies' were gathered in the front room of the hotel, blinking and looking confused. Some were reasonably dressed in shorts and tee-shirts while others, like myself and Simon, were still in out night clothes. Mister Bryce was there to supervise us. "I'm sorry to have to put you all through this, but an emergency has come about and we need to evacuate you youngsters to a place of safety." I was tired, sleepy and confused. I had always thought this was a place-of-safety. What was he talking about? "Things on the outside have become a problem that we can no-longer ignore. This isn't a place where we can guarantee your continued health and wellbeing. I have made arrangements for you to go somewhere that you can be looked-after properly." We were led down to the jetty, where a launch took us out to a big motor-yacht. If I hadn't been so confused I might have recognised it. I'm sure I had owned a vessel like this. Was that the spot where the "Johnson-Corporation" logo had been? I couldn't tell you. All I know is that we were conducted down below by smart and efficient crew-members. The Entrance to a New Life So, that was the end of that. That has been the story about how I changed from being a fat, grumpy, offensively-wealthy corporate bastard with irritable-bowel-syndrome, bad breath, dandruff and incontinence into a cute, young, sensitive cock-hungry boy. Thinking about it from this point of view, I would guess that Rejuve had been good for me. The end result wasn't what I had originally hoped-for, but it was good enough for me now. I have since learned that wasn't the case for the majority of males who went through the Rejuve-experience in those days. They were tricked into it. Most of them became the victims of the 'Radical-Gynarchy' Matriarchal Government. Those poor males were reduced to being delicate, feminine playthings of the emerging generation of 'New-Men'. That is to say, those women who had chosen to redefine themselves in a much more masculine role. I had missed all that up to now, but it wasn't to last. For me, I had become more sensitive, empathic and, generally, a nicer person than I had been. I was much-more in tune with the needs of my friends. I was less selfish and 'grabby'. I was more at ease with myself than I had ever been in my life. Also, I was cute and gorgeous. Who wouldn't want that? I still haven't told you how I ended-up, a destitute street-boy, sitting on the steps of the Resettlement Bureau, waiting for the agent to turn-up. For this I apologise. But don't worry. I can promise you I am coming to that. You will need to be patient. In the next episode: I become a cabin boy and then I become a bridesmaid. Hold-on. It's going to be a bumpy ride!