“You Can Be As Young As You Wish, Part One”

by Jay Roberts

====I wrote this fantasy for over 18 year old folks. Younger kids

       were never invited. If you are here, you ought not to be.

I stood in front of my bathroom mirror in the new condo I had just bought. This mirror was created by the devil himself. It had two wing sides that showed the body at all angles. Shit, it was only a studio, why did they have to go all out with the bathroom mirror, was it a plot to humble me, old Fred Gold?

The mirror certainly was not my friend. It revealed a 5’ 11” gentleman with partial gray hair (some on my chest, ugh). Except for a small paunch, I wasn’t fat, but the profile of my face showed slight neck jowls (ugh again). I stepped back, about six feet, not so bad at this distance, but then my eyes aren’t what they used to be. I should be satisfied with my appearance, especially when dressed. I am careful in choosing clothing and points up my good stuff and minimizes the bad. But at sixty years (last month) I look better than most of my friends. But I’ll tell you a secret: aging is harder for guys who were spectacularly handsome as I was when I was young. The years seem to chip away more each year of good looks.

I think since my birthday, that I have become excessively obsessed with my fading looks. So that when I spied this ad in the back of a men’s health magazine, it really resonated with me.

      Dr. Vlad Wallenberg, Famous European Hypnotist in the US for two

        Weeks, Offering his age and appearance regression sessions.

 Of course it was likely a scam, but, but, but. In short, I called the number from the ad. The voice on the other end was soothing, Eurasian, and I must say hypnotic. My eyes actually felt hot and sleepy just making the appointment.

He asked three questions before agreeing to accept me as a patient. The first was a bit off-putting, “Can you afford the $1000 fee for each visit, There may be more than one?”

“Are you over fifty years old?”

“What was your best age?”

Now that last one caused me to pause. Finally, he said, “Bring photographs of yourself at different ages and we can decide together.

The following evening, at seven PM, I went to the address Dr. Wallenberg had supplied. To my surprise, it was an office building in the financial section of town. The lobby was empty, but a uniformed guard was at the desk. I gave my name and the room number of the doctor. He checked his list. “Yeah, you’re okay, take the small elevator on the far left.”

This elevator was marked “Penthouse.” When I reach the top floor, there was an elegant marble foyer. In front of me was a door with a paper sign pasted on it. “Dr, Wallenberg, knock three times.”

I felt as if I had been catapulted into a children’s story. Was I a male Alice in Wonderland, about to fall down the well?

As I knocked, it became ‘curiouser and curiouser’ as each knock seemed to cast a spell on me. Well, I don’t want to get too dramatic, but I felt as if I was wrapped in soft wool, sounds were muffled and my body was warm and insulated from the environment.

The door was opened by the doctor, as I learned from his announcement.
”I am Dr. Vlad Wallenberg, Welcome, but do not shake my hand, I value my sterile ness.”

Uh oh, this man was a character. If almost turned to leave when he asked me to put the check for $1000 on the small desk in the corner of the room. They say in for a penny, but this was a lot of pennies. My urge to flee was stifled by his strong, commanding voice, “Sit on that chair. Take off your jacket and loosen your tie.”

I obeyed, knowing that I must be partially tranced already. I remember that years ago I attended a stage hypnotist’s show. To my three pal’s delight, I was a perfect subject, falling asleep immediately. Every suggestion of the entertainer resulted in my enthusiastic compliance.

“Now Mr. Gold,” purred Bela Lagosy, “I am now looking at the photographs you brought at my direction. Ah yes, you look quite good at the age, I am guessing, forty, in this one. A bit of gray at the temples, some character lines on your face. Wait, this one at the age of twenty- one, yes. As I place them in a line, you were at your pinnacle age that age.”

It was true. Girls were ga-ga over me in college. I sampled as many as I could during those four years. I got some offers from guys. A few times, just for novelty, and enjoying their total subjugation by me, I indulged. Those day were gone. Now I am interested in some gay hook ups, now that I am divorced, but gays are very age sensitive, not interested in someone my age. I’ve been rebuffed so often, I am shy to make the effort now.

“Yes, twenty-one was a wonderful age for me.”

“We will then proceed to bring you back, mentally and….physically.”

I sat up, “What are you saying? When I leave here I will be and look twenty-one.?”

He smiled at me. Shit, his smile was eerie, like he was going in to suck my blood. “I never fail your man.”

I wondered why he called me “young man” but then I learned that he thought he was over a hundred years old!!

Ye Gods, I have delivered myself into the hands of a crazy nut, but such thoughts began to fade along with the room and the doc’s face as he droned at one, on and on in a foreign tongue. Finally he passed his hands over my eyes (at a three inch distance, remember, he is a germyiac.)

All I could feel now was rushing air around my ears. My body felt burning hot. Muscles began to ache, then settle down and feel okay, one muscle at a time as he addressed each one.

I had a bad knee. It hurt all the time. I crazily noted that the pain had vanished.

Finally, the fog surrounding me seemed to disappear. Here I was looking into the gruesome face of Dr. Frankenstein, I mean Wallenberg, who was smiling with his pointy yellow teeth. “You may now wake up and tell me how you feel.”

“I feel good. That trance was like a long nap. I am full of energy. Wait, something is different. Yeah. It’s my voice. It’s very strong and clear and, and….young.”

He was giggling now, a very unpleasant sound and sight. “Look at your hands.”

I looked down and was greeted by the hands of my youth, smooth, even colored skin on the back, no liver spots. They felt strong too. I turned to Doc. By God I think you’ve done it.”

“Yes, you were an easy one. It will not be necessary for another visit. You got off cheap, no? Go young man and enjoy your new self.”

I stepped out I front of the building and hailed a cab. It pulled up, but the driver looked at me suspiciously, after I gave my home address. “Hey Bub, this is a bad neighborhood. You gotta pay me first ‘fore I tote you uptown.”

I paid him and sat back on the cracked leather cushions in back. He was a talkative one. “Sorry I had to treat you rough, but you’re a young guy and some of your age are quick to jump the fare. I just couldn’t take a chance.” Then he turned back and looked at me. “Hey kid, you are a looker. I could have skipped the fare if I could have a little feel. What do you say to that?”

He wasn’t bad looking, Hispanic, about thirty. I decided to try out my new sexual power. “Sorry man, you are just too old for me.”

Back in my condo I stripped down and checked myself in the mirror. There was me almost forty years ago. Smooth muscled chest, nice pecs and abs. My face was that of a college boy. My beard was confined to my chin and sideburns, it hadn’t yet spread all over my cheeks and neck. I looked close, smooth, no wrinkles, hardly any character lines yet. And my hair, it was blue-black, springy and full. I kissed the mirror. Let’s take this act on the road and check it out.

 End of part one, stay tuned, there’s sex coming, get you rag ready.