21
Days Later…
A
story by diaperedgurl
Christy
had been through a lot. She
was only 21, but she felt she had lived an entire life.
She was 5’2, 115 pounds, blonde curly hair, with gorgeous
thighs, for she was a cheerleader at
St. Martin
’s University in
Arkansas
. She was the classic
Southern Belle, complete with the accent.
However, she hadn’t been using it over the past few days,
because she had been depressed.
As she lay up in her dorm room, Christy lamented over the
coming midterms. “I
can’t believe midterms are already here.
I am so unprepared.”
She looked at the clock and read that it was
3 pm
. She then
contemplated studying for her Italian midterm, which happened to
be the next day, but she fell asleep instead.
When
Christy awoke, she yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes and picked
up her Italian textbook. Looking
at the clock, she realized that it was
9 pm
. She had slept for
over four hours! “Oh
my gosh”, she thought. “I
have got to study from now until the exam just to get through
everything.” Whimpering,
she crammed for the next 10 hours, taking small bathroom and snack
breaks, only to walk into the exam room totally exhausted.
She finished the exam with plenty of time left, which
worried her, but, at that point, she didn’t care.
The professor told the class that their grades would be
posted via the internet in 3 hours, so check back. Trembling,
Christy left the classroom to go find her some coffee, for she had
three hours to wait.
Three
hours later, Christy was back in her dorm room, logging onto her
computer to check her grade.
She had showered in the meantime, and had changed clothes
from the plaid pajama pants and tank top into some nice pants and
a blouse. As she
logged onto her Italian course site, her heart sank into her
stomach. “A fucking
62??!!” she cried out. “No
way!” She slammed her chair against the table and threw herself
onto her bed, exhausted and crying.
Christy
assumed she cried herself to sleep, because she woke up from a
doze with a start. Her
clock read
12 pm
. She assumed she had
dozed off, but it wasn’t restful.
Over the next few nights, Christy lost sleep and, even when
she fell asleep from pure exhaustion, she didn’t rest.
She woke up continuously tired and never any better off
than when she went to sleep.
She decided to go see the school doctor and see what he
could prescribe her.
As
Christy sat in the doctor’s office, she was shivering because
she was cold. Finally,
the doctor came in. She
knew Doctor Mitchell well, for she had to get her birth control
from him in addition to some antibiotics she had gotten a few
months earlier for a bacterial infection she had come across.
“Hello, Christy, how’s life treating you?” Dr.
Mitchell asked.
“Not
too well, Mike,” Christy and the doctor were on a first-name
basis. He gave her a
funny look. She
responded, “Ever since last month, I have been having trouble
with sleep. I can’t
fall asleep. Its like
my mind works overtime and won’t let me drown anything out so I
can get some rest.”
Immediately
the doctor suggested a stress test, which Christy gladly accepted.
As
Doctor Mitchell examined Christy’s levels of stress over a
number of questions via a machine that examined her heartrate, he
came to her with a diagnosis.
“Christy, you need a break.”
“Tell
me something I don’t know, Mike”.
“Well,
you know I am a psychologist in addition to a general practice
doctor, and there’s this new kind of treatment for people who
are needing an escape from daily life.”
Christy
was nervous, kind of glancing around the room.
“Recreational pharmaceuticals, Mike?” she laughed.
“No,
actually its hypnotism. Called
YSR; or Youthful Stress Relief.”
Christy
looked at him and got down immediately.
“No way, Mike. I
am not letting you hypnotize me into anything.”
Mike
stopped her. “But
you don’t understand. It’s
for your own good. And
plenty of research has been done to prove that its safe.”
“I
dunno Mike,” Christy groaned.
“I don’t have the time.’
“Look,”
he said as he took her into his arms.
“Midterms are over.
I will come over tomorrow night and explain everything to
you then, okay?” Reluctantly,
Christy agreed.
The
next night came, and Christy answered the door when Mike knocked.
In his arms he had books, a tape, and some candles.
Looking at him awkwardly, Christy let him in.
“Now,
here’s what YSR will do for you.
When was the last time you were stress free?”
“Um,
when I was probably 7, because with school, comes stress.”
“Good.
Okay, you are 21, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.
I am going to hypnotize you and regress you mentally so
that less stress is placed on you mentally each day.
You will have the mind of 2-year-old by the end of it.
And the best part is, its completely reversible, so you can
come back to regular, everyday life whenever you want.”
“Hell,
at this point, if it allows me to sleep better, I don’t care
what it does,” Christy replied.
“Let’s go”.
“…and
when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, completely in the mind
of a 7-year-old.” <SNAP!>
“WHOA!”
cried out Christy. She
covered her mouth at the sound of her voice, and then giggled and
got up, grabbing Mike’s hands.
“Let’s go play tag!” she cried out.
Mike smiled. ‘exactly as it should be,’ he thought to
himself.
“But
Christy, its nearly your bed-time.”
You need to go to bed, okay.
Go get your jammies on so you can go to bed, okay?”
“Otay”,
she replied, and disappeared into her bedroom, where, not five
seconds later, she returned in an oversized t-shirt with panties
on underneath.
“Now,
we can sit here and watch tv if you want, but you have to promise
to go to sleep.” The
two of them sat down on the couch and, in a matter or moments,
Christy was out, sleeping soundly.
The
next morning, Mike brought Christy out of her hypnotized state,
asking her how she slept. “Mike,
I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, I feel
awesome.”
“Well
rested?”
“Very.”
“Good,
then should we do this once every two weeks?” Mike asked.
“Sure,
I am sure I will need it again in a couple of weeks.
Want some breakfast? It’s
the least I can do for you.”
The two ate breakfast together, with Christy cooking eggs
for Mike and herself.
Over
the next few months, Christy began to call on Mike for more of the
YSR. She was fixing
to graduate, and time was running out for her to finish her final
graduation project. Now,
as time had gone on, Mike had not been charging Christy for his
services. He accepted
breakfast and wrote it off as a favor to a friend.
However, he began to develop a crush on his patient, which
is strictly forbidden by the Hippocratic Oath, which all doctors
take when they are licensed.
One night, he tried to move in on his crush, with some
simple words. “Christy,
I have to tell you something,” he started.
“What
is it Mike?”
“I…er…think
I have a crush on you.”
This
totally shocked Christy, who merely thought of Mike as her best
friend and doctor. “Well,
I hate to break it to you, Mike, but this patient-doctor
relationship is as far as we need to get, okay?”
Mike was infuriated, but didn’t let it show.
“That’s
fine, if that’s how you feel, I just felt the need to tell you,
okay? Now onto our
YSR for the evening.
<SNAP>
Suddenly, Christy was awake.
She was aware of everything that went on around her, seeing
Mike sitting on her couch with a sly grin made her worried a
little bit, but she was okay.
As Christy decided to stand up she looked at Mike and spoke
to him. She meant to
say, ‘You want some breakfast, Mike?’, but it came out as,
“Ooosu bekfass daddy?” She
immediately slapped her hands to her mouth as she not only
couldn’t form the words correctly, but heard the babyishness of
her voice. She went
to stand up immediately, not likeing the sound of her voice or her
incapability to talk, and immediately fell back down with a padded
<THUD>. She
tried again, this time clumsily putting her hands in front of her
and raising her butt in the air t gain balance.
All of this was involuntary, as if her mind was forcing her
body to do it before she could react.
She was able to get upright, only to fall back down with
another <THUD>. She
noticed that she was sitting a few inched higher than usual and
that something was different about her clothing.
Christy looked down at her waist and saw…diapers!
She was wearing what felt like two thick disposable diapers
and a white t-shirt that barely covered her top.
“So,
how’s my baby doing this morning?” Mike asked as he got up and
moved over to her. “You
talked to me like I was some kind of baby, so I figured you would
get a kick out of being one for a while.
Maybe you should learn not to be so rude to people…baby.
At this, Christy wanted to cry, but she fought the urge
and, although her face scrunched up involuntarily, she prevented
herself from crying. “Now,
let’s get up, shall we?”
Mike said as he bent over to help Christy up.
She wobbled as she stood there, simply being held up by
Mike’s single hand held in hers.
She was dependant on him at this point even to stand.
“Can you stand up while I go get you some food?”
He mockingly asked. Christy
lazily nodded her head, and Mike left.
Almost the instant that he let go and was out of her sight,
again, she wanted to cry uncontrollably, but again she fought it.
Again this uncontrollable urge to cry came over her, but
she fought it, only to fall down on her padded behind again.
Mike returned with a bottle of “formula” that he had
specially mixed, just for her.
As Christy thirstily drank it down, she realized that she
had been hungry, and that this formula strangely satisfied her
hunger. As soon as
Mike saw that she had finished her bottle, he led her by the hand
into her guest room, which only had a tv in it.
Aside from the tv, the room was bare.
Christy
tried her best, once Mike left, to stand up so she could leave and
find help, but the cartoons that he had turned on grabbed her
attention. She was
stuck to the tv, her eyes never leaving the screen.
About thirty minutes later, she felt the urge to pee.
She struggled with the words, but was finally able to call
out, “Daddy!” and Mike came into the room.
“Me need potty!” she
blurted out, holding her legs together while squirming.
All of a sudden, as soon as she finished saying
‘potty’, she felt her bladder give way and herself flood her
diapers. The warm
urine flushed its way around the back of her diapers and, since
she was sitting down, gushed towards the front.
Christy tried her hardest to clench her bladder shut, but
her muscles wouldn’t work.
They simply wouldn’t work.
Mike smiled and left.
It didn’t take long, but minutes later, about 45 to be
exact, Christy felt her bowels begin to rumble.
‘Oh no’ she thought, ‘I am not honestly gonna shit on
myself, am I?’. She
tried to work herself up frantically, feeling the pressure on her
bowels increase with each passing second.
She worked herself up to her feet by pushing her thickly
diapered butt out in the air and pushing down with her hands.
As she got to her feet, she began to wobble-step towards
the door, all the while, her bowels were screaming to be released.
Suddenly, one of her pigeon-toed steps caught the other
foot, and she fell backwards again onto her butt.
All of a sudden, her bowels gave way, expelling the last
two days worth of adult food, and the formula that she had eaten
earlier. It felt like
five minutes, but for the entirety of that five minutes, Christy
filled her diapers to the point of bursting.
To
be continued