Loli Impossible

Chapter 1
Light the fuse.

Chapter Description: Marjorie discovers the joys of reentering puberty.

Marjorie Phelps was the best there ever was. No one was better than her at ending lives. She had been trained from birth on how to end lives, starting with her mother at age 3. Thirty years later, she was still the best but was starting to fray about the edges.

She noticed this by the fact that her assignments were starting to slow down. She started to get more of the hard ones that took more and more of her time to complete. After completing her current undertaking by assassinating a power-mad king, she now found herself without a task to fulfill and therefore, on break.

She went back to her rented apartment and kicked back with a few drinks while watching a movie. One drink lead to another and she passed out.

Upon waking, she received the call for a new assignment.

“Good timing,” she muttered and popped a few pain killers. The assignment required her to show up for a makeover. She wondered what gender and age she’d be for this one.

“Ah, Agent Marjorie!” greeted her personal physician, “Are you ready for your reassignment surgery?”

“As always,” replied Marjorie, “I serve the secretary. What have they chosen for me? Male? Female?”

“Today is your lucky day, my dear! They’ve chosen to remake you into a younger incarnation of yourself.”

Marjorie was taken aback. “How much younger?” she asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say, suffice it to be a dress size or two.”

While Marjorie was in the best possible shape for someone her age, she knew that the wrinkles and ever so slight sag to her skin in certain places did increase her dress size; she wondered how young she would have to be in order to constitute 2 full dress sizes.

The physician had little more to say; he hooked her up to a rejuvenation tank with hoses for her various orifices and advised her that while it would take a little while, she would be unconscious for the procedure and would wake up after it was done with no passage of time experienced.

Marjorie drew from the bottomless discipline that allowed her to prepare for an unpleasant experience and said “Let’s get on with it, then!”

The physician filled the tank with a cool, slimy, viscous liquid and, as Marjorie’s consciousness faded, threw a switch.

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She awoke in a hospital room. A nurse on standby signaled her handlers that she was awake and made sure she was comfortable.

While she waited for her handler, she took inventory of her body and found that she was a lot smaller than when she’d gone in for the procedure. She looked at her hands and saw that they were not the hands of an adult. A teenager, perhaps?

Testing out her voice, she found it to be an octave or two higher than what she was used to.

“Just how young did they make me?” she wondered as her handler showed up with a medium-sized suitcase and a small garment bag that contained several suits for her assignment. The handler gave her a dossier along with a small pocket-sized memo voice recorder and departed.

She opened the dossier to its first page and, after reading a note, turned on the voice recorder.

“Good evening Ms. Phelps,” began the recording, “Your mission, Marjorie, should you choose to accept it...”

Marjorie leafed through the pictures in the dossier; she memorized pertinent facts and found that she’d be operating with a small team in a private school for the very rich and elite. Her mission was to infiltrate the inner circle there, report its activities, and dismantle it if deemed a serious threat.

The recording continued, “As always, should you or any member of your task force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions. This message will self-destruct in 5 seconds, Good luck, Marjorie!”

She put the dossier and the recorder in a small metal bin next to her bed, then watched the contents immolate themselves with a bright flash and puff of smoke, leaving a small amount of residue behind.

Marjorie dressed up in one of the uniforms: A dark green blazer with a tasteful coat of arms covering a white blouse and training bra. A Black Watch tartan plaid skirt ended at her knees and complimented her knee-height socks, which were cream-colored.

The highly polished black Mary Jane shoes with brass buckles completed the ensemble and the whole outfit left very little space for hidden weapons.

She twirled in front of the mirror and smiled at the reflection there. Her teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. As her eyes drifted down on the reflection she saw there, she became painfully aware that her breasts were only just budding.

“Don’t worry, ladies!” she quipped, “You’ll come in just fine in a few more years, I promise!”

A knock at the door admitted her chauffeur, who picked up her luggage and escorted her to a waiting Bentley. She waited patiently while he opened the door for her to enter the vehicle.

The drive took several hours to the private school. It was built in a remote location with privacy in mind and a long walk to the nearest town. An armed guard in military regalia lead a small team to inspect the vehicle and verify Marjorie’s school ID. After a thorough search and inspection, the Bentley was permitted to drop her off at the front steps of the dormitory.

She was welcomed by the Dorm Matron along with several porters who ushered her to a private room, the size of which reminded Marjorie of a small dance hall. She settled in and decided to walk around the grounds.

She hadn’t expected to be escorted, but found herself in the company of a page who pointed out the grounds and filled her in on what building and class was what on her busy schedule. As the page walked her around campus, she was introduced to several other girls and made appointments with them for the various social activities that were absolutely necessary for a person of her stature.

The page offered his services, should she need them for the next several days as she got settled into the routine. She declined them by demonstrating that she’d already memorized the layout, and he politely withdrew.

She had several visitors for the rest of the day, her team was in place and several of them were faculty. The rest were students. She could already hear the rumor mills churning with the news that a VIP had entered their school.

She went to bed and fell asleep after a small jet of gas from a hidden source knocked her out.

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Marjorie awoke to find herself bound to an examination table. A tall figure detached itself from the darkness of the corner, slinking up to her.

“Well, well, well! Hello, Marjorie Phelps! Fancy meeting you here,” said the oily voice of Leopold Strangler, “It seems you’ve gone backward through puberty since our last encounter!”

Marjorie sighed, “Hello, Leo. For your information, I’m actually in Tanner stage 3, by my reckoning.”

“Really? Getting your thatch already? I would never have guessed by the training bra!” He chuckled as he pulled a section of the garment up and let it snap back into place.

Marjorie felt that she was about to die. She waited for Leopold’s next move.

“Well, so much for chit-chat, my dear! Are you ready for what comes next?”

“Depends on what it is,” replied Marjorie matter-of-factly.

“It’s not death, but it’s probably just as bad,” he paused for dramatic effect to watch her squirm. He was disappointed as Marjorie, despite being strapped down, could just as easily be discussing knitting tips with a colleague.

He snorted in disgust and pulled out a metal helmet that he strapped to her head.

“You’re going to be reprogrammed to be a typical tween, my dear. You’ll forget everything about who you were and be a part of the popular clique. Think of it as my little gift to you! Good luck in your next life, goodbye and Bon Voyage!”

“Well, shit!” said Marjorie Phelps as she felt the tingling of the probes as they began to activate next to her scalp.

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Join us for our next installment: “The Loli Strikes Back!”

Same Loli time, Same Loli channel!