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This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better. This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue. I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point. The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint. Saving Grace Chapter One I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing. I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day. Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me. Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started. As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.'' "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me. I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.'' "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said. "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.'' I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus. It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home. As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city. After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside. Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom. I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo. Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week. With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom. Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep. I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out. Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed. As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.

The Pumpkin Prince: Prologue A/N: Hello again! This story will be my next pet project on this site and it's an idea I've had since October. It's taken me this long to put it into action. but I hope you'll enjoy it. This story focuses on our Main Character Nathan who finds himself in a mysterious world where he must masquerade as the child of a prestigious Count. It's a bit weird, I admit, but vampires and supernatural creatures are my special interest and I've been wanting to write this story for months. It won't contain much of a horror element as much as the Halloween tag may fool you. It will contain semi-forced regression, coercion, intimidation, breastfeeding, bondage, and despite all of that, a lot of fluff. This is just the prologue and while it may seem like a lot so far, I promise we haven't even gotten to the best bit. Without further ado, let's get into it! Nathan hit the bottom of the chasm with a harsh thud. He had no time to prepare himself as the ground had crumbled beneath his feet while walking through a simple pumpkin patch; practically picked clean by patrons the previous days. Groaning, he found he had landed on yet another pumpkin which broke most of his fall. Hissing, he pushed himself up onto his knees. There was a throbbing in his rib and it was with no light amount of disgust that Nathan found he was covered in pumpkin goop. “Fuckin’ hell,” He tried to comment but a rustling of leaves nearby halted him. He finally noticed his predicament as he absorbed his surroundings. He was deep in a cavern, the walls arching up some 30-40 feet up. Lanterns hung down from the ceiling along with a multitude of simple floating candles. He found himself in the middle of a bountiful pumpkin patch. Very Charlie Brown-esque. The rustling grew nearer and was soon accompanied by a voice. “Fibby, Tibby, is that you? You know your mom said she’d ground you if you two picked my pumpkins again-” Time seemed to stop as the figure revealed himself and Nathan felt his stomach drop. Standing in front of him was a tall, lanky figure. It towered over him and was dressed in well-worn overalls; the kind with patches on the knees and one strap broken. It wore gloves that had to have been white at some point but were now stained a dark brown with time. A simple threadbare flannel under the overalls and worn black rainboots finished the ensemble. However, what shook Nathan was the burlap sack over the figure’s face. Bits of straw poked through the bag forming a patchy beard while the bag conformed to the shape of a face. The eyeholes were wide and expressive and looked down at Nathan with what he was sure was a faux concern. “Oh, you poor thing-” The Scarecrow cooed as he leaned down toward Nathan, finally forcing him to act. “AHHHH!” Nathan screamed, scrambling away as quickly as he could. Which wasn’t very quick mind you. He found himself slipping in the pumpkin goop until his back hit a large white fence. Pain shot through his side and leg at the moment, but Nathan was more focused on the scarecrow now approaching him quickly. Another scream tore through him. “Shhhh!” The scarecrow hushed him quickly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, little guy. Honest.” Throat now burning from exertion Nathan could only whimper as the scarecrow shuffled closer. Its gloved hand reached up toward the bag on his head and pulled it off slowly. With the bag off, Nathan balked at a very familiar sight. “M-Mister Myles?” He stuttered looking into the soft wrinkles of Mr. Myles Patch, the sweet and kind middle-aged man who kept his minuscule town stocked with award-winning pumpkins every fall season. Mr. Myles nodded slowly, seemingly emboldened by Nathan’s waning fright. He snuck a bit closer, gently placing a hand on Nathan’s leg causing him to gasp in pain. “You bumbled yourself quite a bit.” He muttered worriedly. “We need to get you inside so I can call a doctor before anyone sees you here.” Nathan opened his mouth to speak but had to bite down on his lip to fight a wail as Myles lifted him from the remains of the pumpkin. He was swiftly carried inside what looked to be a cozy cottage. Mr. Myles wasted no time carrying him towards a living room that looked like something out of a granny’s dream home catalog. However, the couch was more comfortable than it looked as Mr. Myles laid him down. “Sit tight, kiddo while I call a doctor.” ‘I’m not a kid.’ Nathan wanted to comment as he was 17, about to be 18 come next season. But he was more focused on trying not to cry what with his throbbing leg and side. There was quick mumbling coming from the tiny kitchen. Mr. Myles saying something about ‘-An emergency. Come quick and come alone.’ When he returned, he held a glass of clear water, a thin straw sticking out the top rim. “Come on,” He encouraged as he held the straw to Nathan’s lips. “Have a sip.” The water was cool and refreshing to Nathan’s sore throat, but it didn’t erase his questions. “Where am I?” He demanded. “What happened?” Mr. Myles bit his lip before putting the glass down and sitting on the armchair nearby. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It sounds crazy.” Nathan huffed out an annoyed breath. “I fell through the ground into a pumpkin patch owned by a scarecrow who just so happens to be the friendly old man who lives up the street.” He summed up. “I’m in pain and I want to go home. Just tell me what’s going on!” Mr. Myles seemed to be battling with himself for a moment longer before he sighed. “This is Autumn Hollow…A village that’s existed below yours for centuries…It’s another world, of sorts. The hole you fell in was a portal. I don’t know how you found it, usually, it’s closed.” “I was walking through your patch…” “I closed up yesterday morning, though, son. Shouldn’t you be trick or treatin’?” Nathan shrugged and winced. “I was passing through. Clearing my head.” It was definitely more than that. But he wasn’t about to dump his whole home life on what was essentially a stranger. Luckily, a quick knock on the door saved him from having to explain. Mr. Myles got up to greet the doctor and soon he was leading in an elderly woman in a black apron. She looked nice enough with her grey hair curling around her ears under a wide-brimmed black hat. When she saw Nathan tense with pain on the couch, her face fell. “Oh you poor dear,” She set a heavy bag down on the coffee table with a thud and pulled a square cloth from her pocket. Nathan could only lay there as she dabbed at the pumpkin goop drying on his face. “Ma’am, are you a doctor?” He asked hesitantly. “Oh, sweet child. I’m better than a doctor,” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m a witch!” “Can you help me?” Nathan pleaded. He had seen so much already and frankly he wasn’t in the mood to dispute the logistics of an old woman being a witch while laying on a couch belonging to a scarecrow. “I’m in a bit of pain.” Immediately, the witch nodded. “I’ll fix you right up, baby. We gotta let the cauldron boil.” What followed was a series of terrifying events all leading up to an anticlimactic finish. As the unseen cauldron started to boil, the witch disappeared into the kitchen with Mr. Myles leaving Nathan a mere 20ft away. “Myles hand me your eyes of newt.” “Lucky I picked some up not too long ago.” “Now we add the spider legs…” “We need the plan to get him home. You know I can’t tote him through town.” “Spider. Legs. Myles.” “Right, apologies.” “I could have sworn I brought some snake fangs…” “Right here. So what do you think we should do?” “Hmm…You have a half-sister, don’t you? The one married to the Count?” “So?” “Say he’s your nephew. Problem solved.” “You’re missing the moon drops-” “Don’t tell me how to brew!” “Well- I can’t say he’s my nephew! Nobody would believe that even if he could pass as their son, why would she let him visit now?” “It’s none of their business. Just say he’s your nephew and move on.” “But he can’t pass for Hollow Folk, Debs.” This bickering continued until Nathan felt as if his stomach was turning inside out. After all, goat’s tears?! No way he was drinking that. He’d rather suffer. But when Mr. Myles and the witch returned, she wasn’t holding some disgusting concoction in a glass bottle. Rather, she held a plain white mug with a mountain of what looked like whipped cream and chocolate shavings. The cherry on top was a cookie wafer straw sticking up through the foam. “Okay, baby. I made you some nice hot cocoa to help you feel better.” Immediately Nathan looked at her with mistrust. There was no way that came from those ingredients. But she only looked at him with gentle regard. “Come on, son. You don’t want it to get cold.” Very hesitantly, he took the mug, wincing as Myles propped up pillows behind him to sit up. Nathan sniffed the mug, but only smelled sweet chocolate and whipped cream. He licked the whipped cream peak and found it to be exactly as he remembered it to taste. His reservations slowly disappeared when he took the wafer straw into his mouth and took the tiniest sip. It was hot chocolate. Warm, sweet, creamy even. Not even burning hot considering how quickly they had brought it out to him. As he took another, deeper sip, he realized his aches and pains were starting to melt away. Breathing was getting easier. His knee throbbed less and less before halting completely. Each sip of the delicious liquid made him feel warm and soft. Before he knew it, the mug was empty. Even the whipped cream had melted into the cocoa and he crunched the softened wafer straw before putting the mug on the coffee table. “Feel better?” The witch asked and Nathan nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” Because he had manners. “Oh, please,” The witch sat down on the couch beside him, ignoring the pumpkin goop smeared on the cushion. “Call me Debbie.” Nathan gave her a gentle smile before Mr. Myles’ throat cleared. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, son, but we have to get you home before nightfall.” “We’ve already discussed it, Myles. He’ll play your nephew and you can get him to the return portal!” Debbie groaned. “I can make him look like Hollow Folk if it makes you feel better, but it’s not as big of a deal as you say.” “Whatever gets me home.” Nathan agreed readily. Myles ran a hand over his face, somehow ditching his gloves when Nathan didn’t notice. “What if my sister hears?” “Then you can explain. She’d understand. She’s not as uppity as you make her seem. She was a small farm town girl at one point.” Debbie seemed determined, rooting through her heavy bag. “I have just the thing too.” As she was searching, Myles pulled on his burlap sack once more. It was a strange sight to see as it contoured to his face looking identical to him now that Nathan wasn’t panicking. Debbie hummed triumphantly as she pulled out what looked to Nathan to be a set of plastic vampire fangs. The kind that came with a cheap vampire costume and made it hard to talk. He wasn’t sure of the intelligence of the Hollow Folk, but a simple set of plastic fangs couldn’t possibly fool them. Debbie, understanding his confusion, pointed to Myles. “It’s like his mask, son. This will disguise you well enough to fool anyone in town. Pop them in, and bite down as hard as you can. Be prepared to adjust.” Nathan had no idea what adjust meant but he took the fangs anyway and slipped them into his mouth. Before he bit down, Debbie stood. “I’ll get the sink ready for a bath.” He dismissed her words as more magical nonsense and bit down as hard as he could. A rush of warmth overtook his body. It almost felt like the drop of a roller coaster and his back met the soft pillows. Opening his eyes that he didn’t know he closed, Nathan took in the sight of the cottage. What was originally a dimly lit, the worn-down cottage was now a rich, homely environment. There were motes of light casting soft shadows around the room and he couldn’t help but stare. “The improved eyesight is a pretty good deal,” Myles noted and Nathan was startled upon realizing Myles towered over him so harshly. ‘Give me space!’ He tried to say, but what came out was a high-pitched slur. “Spay!” “Spuh-” He stuttered. “Spay!” “Easy there, son,” Myles reached for Nathan and lifted him off the couch by his underarms. “The magic goes by your spiritual maturity. Relax and let me get you home.” Nathan ignored him. “Me dow’! No!” He squirmed as he was carried to the kitchen, just as cozy and lit as the living room. And Debbie had filled a large farm sink with sweet lavender-scented suds. “Let’s get that pumpkin guts off him. I’ll bathe him while you find him something to wear?” Nathan was stripped much to his protest and deposited into the sink. To his horror, he fit inside. He felt tears fill his eyes as he looked up at Debbie. “Noo!” He warbled. Looking down at his hands. They were small and chubby, little clumsy sausages gripping the edge of the sink. “Baby,” Debbie cooed, running a warm cloth down his back. “The sooner we get you clean the sooner you can go home.” “No’ baby!” Nathan pouted, pushing the suds in rebellion as tears started to dribble. “Wan’ go ‘ome!” “You will,” Debbie promised. “Trust me.” He cried through the entire fiasco that was the bath and even harder as Debbie wrapped him in a fluffy red towel to dry while Myles hunted for clothes. “That man,” Debbie huffed the longer he took. “Grab anything and I’ll shrink it down!” Myles returned soon enough with a handful of garments. First was a billowy nightshirt in impeccable condition. Not a spec of dirt or wear which happened to be a sharp contrast to the entire home. The second was a rectangle of fabric. “This was my sister’s growing up,” He held out the nightshirt. “And I figure this…Is necessary.” He held out the fabric. “Oh, my my,” Debbie said with a pleasant smile. “He’ll look so adorable. Like a little Pumpkin Prince should!” She grabbed the garments and held a squirming Nathan over to Myles while she shrunk them to size. Myles bounced Nathan slightly, trying to cheer him up. “You’re gonna go home, kiddo. We’ll go right after we get you dressed.” Nathan’s cries ceased from exhaustion once the clothes were ready. Debbie slipped the nightshirt over his head and tied the neckline in a neat bow. His humiliation increased as he realized the strip of fabric was in fact a diaper. But it was an old-school sort. The kind that was done up with safety pins Debbie had no trouble conjuring out of thin air and secured the diaper on. “There we go, Viscount Dracul.” She spoke in a heavily accented tone before scooping him into her arms and encouraging him to lean against her shoulder. “Let’s go then.” And Nathan watched as Myles packed a small canvas bag with various items. A blanket, a stuffed pumpkin plush, and an umbrella which most definitely shouldn’t have fit in the bag but did. “Remember, Nathan. I’m your uncle. Your mommy and daddy let you stay with me for the day and now we’re sending you home. You are 18 months old and you’re very tired after a long day of playing.” “M’tay.” Nathal gave a shuddered breath. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to be exhausted, he thought. Boy was he wrong as they stepped out into the front yard. If the inside of the cottage was straight out of a movie, the outside view was an otherworldly vision. Myles’ cottage sat on top of a large hill overlooking an entire village. The village was abuzz with sights. Quaint little houses all as cozy and homely as Myles lined up along a grid of walkways. But the further out the walkways went, the more the town changed. It was as if it were one big carnival. The music carried through the air, wrapping around Nathan’s mind and luring him in. He could smell the sweetness of caramel apples and kettle corn. “Head down, baby,” Debbie instructed softly. The trio walked (well Nathan was carried) down the hill to the entrance of the town. Chatter could be heard all around. They didn’t make it far before a chirp-like voice called out to them. “Mr. Myles! We’ve been looking for you,” Nathan turned his head to see a rather short creature with the head of a raven approaching. “We need another judge for the pumpkin carving contest!” “I wish I could, Cork, but I need to get this little guy home.” “Oh?! Who is this?” They asked stepping up to Debbie. “My nephew,” Myles said quickly. “Really we have to go. His mother wants him home before nightfall. And he’s already so sleepy. You know how babies are-” The bird creature gave a pleasant tweet as it held its hands-wings? Up to Debbie to receive the child. “Let me get a looksie!” Nathan watched Mr. Myles give Debbie a look as she bent over and handed Nathan over. “He doesn’t look so sleepy to me,” Cork trilled while looking Nathan over. “What’s his name?” “Uh..” Myles’ eyes shifted back and forth to get an idea. “Nathaniel.” Cork nodded and Nathan felt a delicate feather pressing his chin down slightly. He let out a noise of discontentment and Cork let him go quickly. “Such a strong name. And I can see his fangs poking through he’s gonna be a heartthrob for the ladies. I can already tell!” Cork handed Nathan back to Debbie as he started to squirm. “You should bring him ‘round to Martha. She’d love to meet him!” “I would, but-” “Martha!” Cork cawed through the air. Pretty soon a whole horde of Hollow Folk came to get an eyeful of Mr. Myles’ nephew Nathaniel. And with them came gifts. Nathan couldn’t help but preen at the attention even if some of the Hollow Folk made his tiny heart clench at the sight of them. They were all quite nice from their first impression. He didn’t know which one had deposited a sunflower crown on his head, but it made him feel special nonetheless. One woman in a similar, newer-looking, black apron compared to Debbie’s came up with a small spoon food of orange-tinted puree. “Let’s see how the baby likes my pumpkin pie.” Nathan wasn’t one to turn down treats, especially if they were as delicious as the hot cocoa he was served before. The tiny spoon slipped into his mouth and he mushed the paste around with his clumsy tongue. It was miles better than the store-bought pies his mother tended to buy at the last moment for Thanksgiving. The filling filled his mouth with warmth and as he swallowed his bite, he couldn’t help but let out a gurgled giggle. “‘Ummy!” He tried to tell the woman who visibly melted at the sight of his joy. “Oh my stars, he loves it!” She cheered triumphantly. “Now, wait a minute,” A sweeter voice chimed in from the back of the crowd. “I want him to try mine!” “And mine!” Several more voices piped up and Nathan found himself the sole judge in a pie-baking contest. Debbie sat down on a bench made from woven fibers and a line of women wanting their pie judged filled in front of her. When each pie was tasted, and each woman gave a word of praise from his limited vocabulary (because each one, he swore, was the best pie he had ever tasted) he was handed a large blue ribbon. “Which one was the best?” Debbie encouraged him to pick. She even set him down on his feet to choose despite his bare feet. The ground was soft even for a child, tufts of grass not too long to trip, but long enough to cover the soil. He took one step forward towards the group. Nathan blinked at the group of women eagerly waiting to be chosen for the ribbon. This attention was as far different than before. He was the center of attention, but rather than doting on him, they were waiting for him to do something. It was all too familiar to his parents. Waiting for him to decide on a college, waiting for him to graduate, waiting for him to do something impressive. Eager to just get it over with, Nathan rushed over to the first woman, the youngest of the group, and handed her the ribbon. He didn’t wait for their response before he rushed to the nearest adult he recognized which just so happened to be Myles. Myles of course wasted no time scooping him up into his arms. Nathan buried his face into the rough texture of the flannel on Myles’ shoulder and held onto him tightly. “‘Ome. ‘Ome.” The revelry of the group seemed to dissipate as they realized their judge wasn’t as enthusiastic as before. “Oh no,” One baker cooed softly. “Did we scare him?” “No, no,” Myles was quick to assure. “Poor baby isn’t used to such a large crowd. He’s really looking forward to seeing his Mommy and Daddy again.” “Well, if Mary would bring him by once in a harvest moon he wouldn’t be so jumpy,” Someone scoffed. “But she’s pretty busy up in her ivory tower now, too busy to say hi to us hicks, huh?” “That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Myles warned. “She’s just been busy what with her work and now the baby-” Debbie took it as a great time to step in. “You all forget how old-school the Count is. He was around before we folk started to spread out. It took him and Mary a great deal of thinkin’ before they decided to let Myles keep the baby overnight.” She lied flawlessly. “Now instead of judging a first-time mom, we should all be thankful and show her her faith was not lost on us to show her baby boy a good time.” “But that can wait til the next trip!” Myles stepped in once more. “She only let me watch him for a few hours so we should get him back about now-” “Awww can’t it wait just a little longer?” Cork lamented. “We haven’t had a baby around since Tibby and Fibby were born!” “And that was over a decade ago!” “Next time,” Myles swore. “If I don’t get him back by nightfall, she’ll be so angry she won’t let me watch him again.” A gasp overtook the crowd as if he admitted to some heinous crime. And then it wasn’t so hard to walk through the village. People waved and cooed at Nathan but didn’t try to halt their path. A few times, they would hand the boy small trinkets and gifts which he accepted happily. A hand-carved wooden dog, a necklace with a bat on the end, and even a woven bracelet slipped onto his chubby wrist. Despite his fright from before, Nathan felt his heart sink the closer and closer they grew to an old white building with purple light emanating from stained glass panes. Was he ready to go home? Wouldn’t it be better to just stay here where people clearly wanted him around? He made a small noise of distress and Myles patted him on his back soothingly. “We’re almost there, bud. You’ll be home soon.” “Wha…” The baby stuttered, fingers dipping closer to his lips in nervousness. “I ‘tay?” He asked. “What is it?” Myles asked, pausing in his steps and looking at Nathan’s hidden face. “Wan’ ‘tay.” Nathan spoke clearer. Debbie chose then to pipe up. “I think he’s asking to stay, Myles.” At once, Myles’ face fell. “Oh, son,” “Wan’ ‘tay.” “You gotta go home, son. Your parents are probably wondering where you are. I already told the town you’re going home…Your place is up there,” Myles motioned to the dirt ceiling. “You’ll go home and eat dinner and…this will all just seem like a weird dream.” Tears sprouted in Nathan’s eyes as his lip quivered. “Nooo!” Myles didn’t know what it was like. Myles could just disappear down here where people liked him and forget about the outside world. His fists struck, thumping against Myles’ shoulder without force but the man kept walking. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he stayed,” Debbie piped up. “Just for a little while…” “Time moves differently up there, Debs,” Myles sighed. “Each night here is two months up there. He has a life and family up there. And we can’t keep him. Especially if my sister heard that I’ve been toting around a topsider as my nephew.” Nathan sobbed heaving breaths. If he went home, he’d have to go back to a family who barely cared about him. To friends too busy deciding their own futures to even spend the day with him. To the stack of transcripts and pamphlets on his desk demanding he decides what he was going to do when there wasn’t anything that interested him in the world. He wasn’t an athlete or a genius. He was just Nathan, a small-town boy who sometimes bagged groceries at the EZ Mart on the corner. What was there in the world for him when there was something so homely and soft right under his feet? Myles kept walking until he opened the door to the white building. He set Nathan down on the ground and Nathan found himself in a small room. The purple light came from an arched portal in the wall, swirling and glowing with energy. “Now all you have to do is walk through that portal and you’ll be home…” “Wan’ ‘tay!” Nathan said once more but Myles shook his head. “No, you don’t, buddy. You have a life you need to live…And I’ll still see you around occasionally. Maybe even come back to my patch next year and I’ll share a cup of cocoa with you.” Nathan looked up at Myles, his face crumbled and pleading. “You’re breaking my heart here, kid.” Myles sighed… “Go on…” Hands balled up in the fabric of his nightshirt, Nathan turned to the portal and ran through. Clearly, he wasn’t wanted… Nathan woke up on the cold hard ground with a gasp. Shooting up, he turned his head around to see that he was once more back in the pumpkin patch. He was in his old clothes free of any pumpkin guts and part of him wondered if he had just dreamed the entire thing. Tears bubbled in his eyes and he took a moment to cry at the loss. But as he went to stand, several things caught his eye. There in the grass was a sunflower flower crown, a hand-carved wooden dog a bracelet…and a plastic set of vampire fangs. Fishing around his neck, he felt the cold chain of a necklace as well. So it had happened… Gathering his trinkets, Nathan stood and had no other choice but to head home…He walked into the back door hoping to not be noticed, but his luck had always been terrible. “Nate? Is that you? Where have you been?!” His mother called out from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you all day!” “I was over at Mike’s house…we were…looking at scholarships…” He lied quickly, already heading for the stairs and going up. “Well, we already ate dinner.” She called up to him. “Your plate’s in the fridge.” “Thanks, mom…” She left him alone after that and Nathan was free to hide away his new trinkets on his nightstand. He would lay in bed that night and dream about a world underground. People who looked odd, but had hearts made of gold. Being doted on. Being loved. He’d shed tears on his pillow, hoping one day he could go back.

In 2016 I was fighting writers block on another penname's work, when I decided to write 'Emerald Princess.' About 2/3rds of the way through the work I suffered the same fate on this work, and only took it up when a reader kept badgering me in 2020. With time and inspiration then I was able to finish the work, and had left it in a mostly rough state. As I've been publishing my other Diaper Dimension Works, I wanted to publish Emerald too. Unfortunately it was originally a fanfiction piece in another universe, so I was stopped in my tracks since I couldn't publish it as that. A couple months back I decided I wanted to revise it, remove any reference to the other universe, and address some of the valid criticisms given to me at the time of initial postings. My hope is that the product is far superior to the original! If you wish to support me, enjoy the work, or it's a first time and you can't wait between postings - the full edited version of Emerald Princess is available now on Kindle here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 You may find almost all of my completed works on my author page Sofia's Author Page Emerald Princess is set in a world with humans who have evolved unique characteristics that make for superhuman abilities through 'Emergence.' The concept was partially inspired by many such works from comics and other fandoms. This work is meant for adults; the main protagonists are all eighteen or older. It contains Adult Baby Diaper Lover (ABDL) themes. If diapers, bottles, and babying of regressed adults are not your cup of tea, you may wish to give this a pass. However, if those don't offend you, I hope you will enjoy this tale! Thank you to my readers who have commented and encouraged me throughout my postings online! Thank you to anyone who purchases my novels and takes the time to read them! A special thank you to a reader, Chloe, who continually badgered me to finish this tale after I left it unfinished for several years! Copyright © 2016-2023 Sofia Hammerstein All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Chapter 1: Jealous I STARED AT the road as Mom drove me to school. The town where I grew up was in a category of its own reality as one of the most unique towns in the world. Just for me to come to school, we had to drive through a checkpoint with a guard shack manned by an MP! As usual, though, my mom was waived like normal without stopping. The only time they really checked vehicles like a military base was when there was some sort of alert. The town of Los Alamos was on the backside of a beautiful mountain that was a part of the Rocky Mountains. I loved hiking and fishing the mountain streams with my dad on the occasional weekend when he wasn’t bogged down in his research projects. I felt a prod in my side and looked over at my baby sister in her rear-facing car seat. She poked me with the play hairbrush she used on her doll. “Why’d you poke me?” I asked Lily. “Play?” I sighed, “If I get a chance, I will later, Lily. I have a lot of assignments due soon…” Lily looked at me with her pretty green eyes, “Please?” I sighed again, “We’ll see Lily Bear.” With that, I tickled her a little to make her smile. “Stop dat!” She giggled. I smiled at her as Mom pulled up to the loading zone at the school. Lily was probably the prettiest baby sister that I knew! She was a total oops child for my mom a bit over two years ago. My parents apparently forgot where babies came from one week while I was out of town at a music camp. As I opened the door of the Toyota Land Cruiser and swung out, Mom reminded me, “Don’t forget that you have Tae Kwon Do tonight,” through the window that she had rolled down. “Like I could forget?!?” I asked with a bit of incredulity. I was testing for my second-degree black belt tonight! I just hoped I could manage to pass this test. If I could get this belt, I would be able to really think about teaching in my own studio after college. After this belt, though, I would no longer be able to just test at home; I would be flying to major cities or maybe even Korea! For something I had been practically forced to do at the start, I had really grown a love of it! I walked down the hallway to my locker to drop off some things. I passed my reflection in the window of a dark classroom and shook my head. I was one of the nerdiest of the nerdy kids to my peers, and in Los Alamos, that was saying something! I was a decent height, five foot eleven, but was a total stick. It didn’t matter how much I ate - it took tons of fat just to get me to 105 pounds. That was with my clothes and shoes on! My brown hair was also really long - three inches past my shoulders in a neat ponytail. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was just riding the fad, but there was a deeper reason for it that I wasn’t about to share with anyone. “Nick!” I heard behind me. “Hey Jacob,” I said as I turned to one of my few real friends’ voices. “Did you get the math homework done?!?” He was in a panic. I groaned, like always; he hadn’t done anything but play games last night. I spent the next few minutes walking to our first-period band class, being cajoled into helping him finish - i.e., copying my homework. “Please, Nick!” He pleaded. “Jacob, you’re not asking to copy Nick’s homework again, are you?” Hannah asked with disdain. “Umm… maybe?” Jacob said, “Unless you’ll help me out?” He asked and batted his eyelashes. We both laughed. Jacob, Hannah, and I were like the three musketeers. Hannah and I had been friends for a long time, and she was one of the few people I felt I could trust with anything. She also happened to be Lily’s go-to babysitter if my parents and I weren’t available. I had a crush on her that confused me regularly since I really just thought of her as a best friend. I looked at my cell phone for the time and figured we had about ten minutes to save Jacob’s rear again. It’s not that he was stupid… he was probably as bright as I was, but he was lazy when it came to homework. Amazingly he managed to keep good grades up - of course, his parents probably would have killed him otherwise. That’s the thing with having two parents with PhDs; slacking isn’t even a remote option. I was fortunate that my parents only had one Ph.D. between them… It didn’t matter, though, because it might as well have been two since the only reason Mom didn’t have hers in Chemistry was that she found it too hard to take care of me and work on her doctorate. Dad was considered very useful at the lab due to his Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and his Doctorate in Physics. Their graduate degrees both came from MIT, and their undergrads were at rival Ivy League schools. Needless to say, my parents were brilliant! In any other town, their resumes would shine like a star, but they were practically a dime a dozen in Los Alamos. The number of well-educated parents in the community was absurd! As the first bell rang, I pulled my flute case from my backpack and went to sit in my first chair spot that I had fought for so hard. Playing flute as a guy is never a task that will prevent people from giving you grief. Fortunately, I was one of three guys in the flute section, so I wasn’t alone, but still… I quickly figured out that the way to shut up most of the chatter in junior high was by being better than everyone else. Well, that and the Tae Kwon Do lessons that they figured out I took by then. My Sensei trained me never to be the aggressor from when my parents had me start in second grade. That didn’t stop me from protecting myself when attacked, though. It sadly took until seventh grade before the last bully figured out the folly of attacking me. “Morning,” the band director said as he sipped a cup of coffee. “Morning, Mr. Muñez,” I responded politely. We both shared the opinion that there was no ‘good’ in mornings and had our private joke with this greeting. Before too long, rehearsal began, and I once again had to hide the guilty pleasure that we were playing music from Frozen for our Christmas Concert in three weeks. But, of course, it might have been just that we were playing music that wasn’t traditional Christmas music too! That had to be played that day, too, unfortunately. It didn’t matter what a composer did with Jingle Bells; it still got old! At lunch, I sat with Hannah, Jacob, and a couple other friends. “So your big test is tonight, huh?” Hannah asked. I blushed but nodded, “I hope I don’t fail it.” She gave me a hard stare, “Of course, you won’t fail it. Didn’t you like just win those competitions this year?” I shrugged, “This isn’t a competition, and even if it was, there would be just as good of a chance of things going wrong.” She kicked me under the table, “Come on, positive attitude!” I smiled at her, “Okay, if you’ll quit beating me up, I’ll think positively.” That led to her kicking me again for spite. “I hear it’s supposed to snow tonight?” Jacob asked. “Yeah, but don’t you go jinxing it!” I said with a warning. Truth be told, it would take a fair amount of snow for school to be canceled. Living in the mountains, you just had to learn to deal with it much of the time. It’s why families like mine that lived on the outskirts of town had to have a four-wheel drive vehicle. Hannah gave him the glare too. “Think the ski resort will open this year?” I asked thoughtfully. “Even if it doesn’t, we could always hit Sandia or go up to Wolf Creek over Christmas Break,” Hannah suggested. “My parents have offered to take us up to either.” “That would be sweet!” I said with a smile. “I’m hoping my parents will get me a new board for Christmas.” We spent the remainder of our lunchtime talking before having to go our separate ways to classes. I managed to get through the end of the day, and my Calculus test, without too much trouble. After the bell, I fought my way through the hallways full of students as quickly as possible and found my mom was waiting for me in our car. I climbed into the back out of habit to sit next to Lily. “You know you’d have to do a lot less driving if you’d let me get a car,” I suggested to her. “Your father and I want to wait until after Christmas Break,” she reiterated. I had just turned 18 the week before, but for whatever reason, my parents still didn’t want me driving by myself yet. It was like she could see my whining getting ready to increase, “Besides, you haven’t gotten a job to pay for it either…?” I sighed. “Just be patient, sweetie,” she said. I looked to my left and saw my baby sister sleeping quietly in her car seat. “How did you get the princess to sleep?” I asked quietly. Mom shook her head; “She had a playdate today with Becky’s daughter Zoe. They didn’t stop running from the time I dropped you off at school until I packed her up twenty minutes ago.” “Whatever works, huh?” I smiled. I looked over at her red hair that mom had put into pigtails this morning. One of the rubber bands was starting to slide off, so I gently fixed it. Mom drove us home to our house outside the city limits. Los Alamos is a weird town because it’s technically all government property. That means you had to move outside of town and commute if you wanted to own your own house. I didn’t mind because it meant our house backed right up to the forest. Well, sort of… Due to past forest fires, my family decided it was for the best when we moved here to clear the land immediately around the house. No sense in making it easy for the house to burn down when someone couldn’t figure out how to put out a campfire! Our house had two stories and a full basement containing a workout room, playroom, and home theater. As I grew older, the playroom became more of a hangout room for my friends and me. The playroom was back mostly in use now, though with Lily, and had dolls and other baby toys scattered everywhere in the room. Once Mom parked, I threw my backpack on my shoulders and went to Lily’s side of the car. I opened the door, quietly unbuckled her highness, and then picked her up gently. Mom gave me an appreciative smile. I had to appreciate that she only weighed 25 pounds at this point. She was tiny for her age of two-and-a-half. “Is she wet?” Mom asked quietly. I felt her diaper under her tights and nodded as we walked into the house. “Here,” she motioned, “hand her to me, and I’ll change her before I put her down to finish this miracle nap.” I smiled at her, “I’ll do it, Mom.” “How did I get lucky enough to have a son that doesn’t mind changing his sister’s diapers?” She smiled at me. “I don’t know,” I told her with a smile and walked upstairs past my bedroom door and to Lily’s room. My parents had switched her crib rails out last month for her toddler bed version of the bed but had kept Lily’s changing table in there. I gently sat her down on it and took care of the wet diaper. Truth be told, I loved taking care of my sister! She was the most precious person in the universe to me. I managed to get her tights pulled back up and lay her down in her bed without her stirring a bit. The pacifier in her mouth never once looked like it was in danger of falling out, either! I crept out of her room and went down the hall to mine. I sat down at the desk to start doing my homework. I only had about thirty minutes until Mom would call me down for dinner, and then I would need to change for my testing. But I figured it was just enough time to start typing the ridiculous essay I had to write for English. My teacher wanted three pages analyzing Dante’s satirical use of people in the Inferno. It’s not that there weren’t plenty of people and characters to use; it was that all three of those pages would have to be perfect for her to be happy. I sighed and began typing. I managed to get through the first page when I was invaded. “Can I help?” Lily asked me as she climbed into my lap with her favorite doll. I smiled at her, “I wish you could!” “Play with me?” She asked with a smile. “Hmm… I kind of have to get this done,” I told Lily while squeezing her in a hug. She frowned. “Please?” I looked at the clock. Mom was going to call us down for dinner any minute. I was just about to give in to her sweet eyes when Mom came in. “Dinner’s ready, you two.” I looked at Lily, “Maybe tomorrow night?” I suggested gently. She looked like she was going to go into crying tantrum mode, so I started tickling her. She instantly started laughing as my fingers danced around her mercilessly for a moment. “Stop…” she cried, and I stood up with her still in my arms. “Let’s go eat,” I told her and carried her downstairs. At the table, I set her in her highchair. Dad came in the door right as I finished buckling Lily in. He kissed Lily and mom, said “Hi,” to me, and went to wash up. Then, we sat down to mom’s roast and potatoes she had put in the crockpot that morning. She looked up at the clock as I finished eating, “Nicholas, go get ready,” she told me. “Okay,” I said with the butterflies flying in my stomach. It took me less than ten minutes to get dressed in my gi, and I ensured I looked ready for my testing. Then, I walked out of my room to see Mom changing Lily again. She usually had a messy diaper right after dinner, and it seemed like this was the case tonight, too, as I could smell it from the doorway. She had her bottle in her hand while she was being changed. “I’m ready,” I said with a smile. “So is Lily, huh?” Mom said and gave her a kiss. I loved my sister, but I have to say she was fortunate to always have so much attention from us. ‘I wish I received half that attention!’ I smiled. My parents and I loaded up the Land Cruiser and headed to the dojo where I studied. Mom hugged me, Dad said, “Good luck,” and I went to my place at the front of the middle line. Other students trickled in, and before I knew it, our Sensei had us warming up and running through some simple forms as a group. A few other parents were there for the younger children that night. A couple of my friends were also there to take their own belt tests. “Tonight, we have twelve students testing for their next belt,” Sensei announced as he had us gathered around the outside edges of the room. “We will go in order of lower belts to higher belts.” He explained the process, and I watched the other eleven students test through their forms, breaking boards, and sparring. It seemed like no time at all before I was called up. “Nicholas Hammerstein, please step forward.” He smiled at me. I walked to the center of the room and stood at the ready. “Nicholas is testing for the highest belt he can earn here. After this belt, he will have to test elsewhere with a grandmaster present. Good luck,” he told me. “Thank you, Sensei,” I said politely, bowing. He asked me to do my forms, and I hoped I did a credible job for him and the visiting masters. I was less worried about this part than the breaking test. I sized up the boards I was to break first with a punch and was relieved to see all of them broken after I tried. Next, he had me perform a kick break which I successfully nailed! I was feeling confident as the sparring portion came up. “Nicholas, you will spar against Randy,” he told me. He motioned to a student who had just successfully tested for his first-level black belt the previous month. I watched him like a hawk and would have been declared the victor by points if this were a tournament. At that point, Sensei concluded the match. I stood at attention before him as he discussed my test with the guests. “Nicholas, you have performed well on your test, and it is my great honor to bestow your second-degree black belt to you.” He handed me my new belt, and I bowed to him. “Thank you, Sensei,” I said. Suddenly I was attacked from below by a pink bundle. Sensei laughed at me, “You are going to need a higher degree belt to deal with that one!” I held Lily back to the car and put her in her car seat. “You so cool!” She told me with a smile. “Thank you, Lily,” I told her and reached over to hand her doll to her. That night we found a place to get ice cream before heading home. We talked about my confidence as I progressed through the testing. Dad mentioned he thought I might even have a chance of sparring against Mergents, but I shook my head. I knew how good they were from some of the tournaments that ran side-by-side with mine sometimes! They usually had too much speed and faster reflexes, even if they didn’t have the strength to throw a car a block away! We eventually finished our ice cream, and I fell asleep as soon as we got back into the car. It had been a long day! MOM WOKE ME up at home, and I discovered the snow had indeed started to fall! “Snow!!!” Lily said excitedly, waking back up. ‘Uh-oh,’ I thought, ‘I bet she’s going to be a hyper handful for the rest of the night. I looked at my phone and groaned when I realized how late it was. ‘10 pm already?!?’ I went upstairs, showered, and put on my pajamas before trying to finish some of my homework. The essay could wait until tomorrow night, but the math homework wouldn’t. So I scrambled to do the six calculus problems but was still struggling on the final one when my dad came in. “It’s time for bed, Nicholas,” he said. I sighed, “I have to get this last problem done first, Dad; I just can’t figure out where I’m going wrong.” I hoped that would get his attention, and maybe he would help. He gave me a stare that told me he knew exactly what I was up to, but he looked at the clock next to my desk and said, “What is it?” Dad looked at it for five minutes and scratched his head too. “Okay… If this number was different, this would work out to a nice even number, but the way it’s written… It has to be a mistake,” he said to me. “How would you solve it, though, if it’s right?” I asked. I watched as he found another piece of paper and started solving the equation using the much higher math knowledge he’d gained from his physics doctorate. “Well, this is the solution as written, but you can’t fully solve it because of this,” he pointed to errors. “Why don’t you…?” He walked me through what he had done to get to that point, and I copied it down to talk to the teacher the next day. I understood how he did it, but like him, I was pretty sure there was an error. This way, when I spoke to the teacher, I would have both an answer and a question on whether the problem was wrong! “Okay, time for bed now!” he said. “Thank you, Dad,” I said as I hugged him, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t know math!” He laughed, “You’d be fine. My parents used to look at my calculus homework and then walk away as quickly as they could!” I decided to go to the bathroom one last time and watched Mom put Lily down in her bed. As much as she was growing up, she still wanted to be held in the rocking chair and told a bedtime story each night with her bottle. I figured one of these days, Mom would have to be mean and finally take away her bottles, pacifiers, and potty train her, but she seemed in no hurry to do so. She turned and saw me walking back to my room, “You should have been in bed a half hour ago,” she said with a look. “Sorry, Dad was helping me with homework. Besides, why should I go to bed before my baby sister?” I asked with a smirk. “She takes naps,” Mom said with a smirk. Then, she gave me a hug, “Good night, Nicholas.” “Night, Mom,” I told her and crawled into bed. My last thoughts before going to sleep were, ‘I did it! I’m a second-degree black belt!’ Then, ‘I’m so jealous of Lily. I wish I could have a bedtime story and a bottle!’ SOMETIME LATER, IN the middle of the night, I woke up soaked with sweat and chilled. I pulled a blanket that had fallen on the ground and wrapped myself tighter, but I couldn’t stop shivering. I must have been audibly whimpering because my door opened, and Mom came in. “Are you okay?” I shook my head, “I’m cold and shi-hi-vvv-vv-ering.” She took one look at me and turned the lights on. I felt her hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up,” she said with concern. I watched her leave the room, and she returned with a thermometer and a washcloth. She stuck the thermometer in my mouth and put the washcloth on my head. “This can’t be right…” she said. “Levi!!!” She shouted. Dad came sleepily into my room. “What’s wrong?” “He’s burning up… you don’t think…?” This wasn’t making much sense to me as I was just not feeling it. All I could focus on was how much nicer it would be if Mom could just pick me up and hold me. Maybe I’d be warm enough then...? “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I said, suddenly standing up and trying to run to the bathroom. As I got to the bathroom doorway, I saw my baby sister standing in her nightgown with her pacifier squeezing her bear, looking at me, scared. I felt terrible that I had woken her up; she looked so cute. ‘I wish I could be that cute,’ I thought. ‘Lily is so lucky that she’s a baby girl!’ That was my last thought before everything suddenly went black. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading! Please press the ‘Like’ Button if you’ve enjoyed it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! For those who have read this before, I hope this is a smoother reading experience! There are lots of little changes and adjustments through the work. Let me know what you think! If you're someone who must finish a good story 'now,' consider purchasing the full book on Amazon Kindle! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 I will be posting a chapter about every other day until the complete 62 Chapters and the Epilogue are reposted.

When an IT engineer at RegressCo gets hold of his upcoming evaluation, he tries to find a way to adjust the standards by which he is assessed… with unintended consequences RegressCo - Fudging the Numbers Jack sighed as he sat down in his cubicle. Frustration was visible on his forehead this morning, wrinkling all the way down to the end of the hyenas muzzle. He’d been dealing with ridiculous queries all day, tickets from everywhere from Research and Development to Payroll. How they managed to break so many pieces of equipment and crash simple pieces of software was beyond him. RegressCo needed to get a better handle on enforcing some best practices, the entire IT department was at full capacity and the tantrums people threw about them were audible from three floors up. This time, it was easy to see the cause. Some new intern in HR hadn’t been given a sippy cup and his laptop keys were now stuck firmly in place from the apple juice that had worked their way between them. Thankfully, it was an easy fix, a little careful application of heat and cotton buds and soon everything was clicking away like new. “Now, let’s give you a test run” the hyena whispered to himself, pressing the on button. Rather than the normal start-up screen, the laptop flickered for a second before showing a clear and organised desktop, spreadsheets and documents neatly placed in specific sections. “What? Did this kid not log out or..” It was then the hyena spotted something that made him stop before hitting the start menu. A document mixed in among others. “Jack Crowley - Yearly Assessment - DRAFT COPY” Great. He’d known that was coming up at some point. Still a few weeks away, but definitely in his near future. He’d been at RegressCo for just under a year, his three month probation had come and gone and he’d been officially inducted into a little clique of workers who were still with it enough to make it to the toilet six months in. This place was a minefield, he’d learned that just by reading the various manuals covered in crayons and big red warnings saying “DON’T DRINK THE MILK”. Once you’d stepped in the wrong place at the wrong time, that was it, your name went on the potty chart and your assessments went from formal and boring to a desperate attempt not to be distracted by the colours on your bosses tie. He hovered over the icon, leaning back in his chair. If he read this, he’d probably be breaking a rule somewhere. Fireable? Maybe, he certainly wouldn’t look good on the next version if he was found out… But no one would know right? He opened up the document, skimming through its various sections. His face scowled, dropped, then contorted. None of the notes had been put into “corporate” speak yet, most were still in their raw forms. “Compared to other staff members, standards of work completion have recently dropped... Sees some work as unnecessary... misses deadlines... incapable of working to the standards expected in the company” This wasn’t good. It was really not good. Not a firing, but definitely a talk down. And company evaluations at RegressCo that involved a talk down had a tendency to result in demotion to “potty by the desk at all times” “This is ridiculous…” he whispered to himself leaning back in his chair. He looked over the spreadsheets in the bottom corner, eyes wandering over their file names. “Potty and Toilet Tracker - Q1” “Employee Character Reference Contact Details” “Timesheets - Break and Lunch Monitoring - Q1” All neat, all clearly labelled. Wouldn’t expect less from a straight laced intern in HR with more time to do busy work than anything useful. “Incapable of working to the standards expected in the company…” he tapped his legs, biting on his bottom lip “What standards are they talking about…?” He clicked on the Potty Tracker. Sure enough, everyone in the company was listed there, each one with a status drop down menu. Each of those were known to employees anyway, but it was clear this was the one area Jack was, at least, in the clear. He looked over the list of his colleagues in IT. His manager was listed under the third rung of the ladder: “PAUL FRY - Bathroom privileges, pull-ups required” A thought popped into Jack's mind. These were all a matter of public record in the company. If he lowered the visible standards of those assessing him… ************************************************************************************************************* Paul Fry grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the colourful kids tables in the kitchen. The cheetah had got used to this, regression for him was - as he liked to put it - “childs play“. Sure it was annoying for a while, but more often than not he woke up one morning back in his double bed sprawled out with a ripped diaper down his ankles. Then it was just shower, bathroom and back to the grind before the next time he got this small. Five years of it tended to give you a sense of it as it was happening and he’d had enough experience to keep himself stocked up with supplies. Potty training was just another system he had to learn in his IT Consultant position, like any other, and now he just went through the motions each… He stopped in his tracks as a warmth spread through his crotch. His eyes shot to his pants, the apple dropping from his hands in shock. His paws shot to his front, feeling the plastic of the pull-up underneath them expanding as his bladder emptied completely. “I… what the?” he pulled at the front of his waistband, checking the damage. Sure enough, the designs had faded, he’d not even felt it coming. This wasn’t normal… “Hey Paul! You ok there?” he looked round and up at his co-worker. Doing his best to shake off his shock he smiled weakly “Heh… yeah just errr…” “Having a bathroom break?” the cheetahs jaw dropped “Oh come on, it was obvious a mile away” “I… I am not!” he clenched his fists and stamped his foot on the floor. Wait… that wasn’t… “Ok geez… wait… you’re...” The cheetah felt strange. Why couldn’t he unclench his fists? Why did he feel so wound up? He tried to focus on breathing, trying to relieve the sudden tightness. His tail had gone straight, his legs were bending… “Oh… Oh no!” His co-worker fanned his nose dramatically “I’ll err… I’ll go get the nurse Paul. Try not to sit down” The cheetah felt tears coming to his eyes as he patted the back of his pants. But… he was potty training... ************************************************************************************************************* Satisfied with a little adjustment to his managers training progress - the drop down box now helpfully stating “Incontinent - Diapers Required” - Jack started skimming through a couple of the other spreadsheets. It couldn’t hurt to make a few additional adjustments here and there to get him through this, it’s not like they’d be permanent. They’d probably just blame simple clerical error and leave it at that. He wasn’t even logged in, so these wouldn’t appear as his edits. His mouse hovered over one particular spreadsheet, his mind finding another puzzle piece clicking into place. “Employee Character Reference Contact Details” A devious idea entered into Jack's mind. He looked through the list of staff members. There was his name, his mother listed as his emergency contact (being single wasn’t out of choice, so they were the best option) but he quickly found what he was looking for just below it... ************************************************************************************************************* “Hey Richie! Need a hand with those boxes?” Richard looked up and pressed the “Open” button on the elevator as the fox ran in next to him, his fennec ears perking up as he heard his friends gracious offer. “Yeah, that would be great! Seriously, I have no idea why the head of HR needs all this stationary. Can’t he just, I dunno, not eat his crayons every week?” The fox laughed “Oh come on, he probably just spills his bottle on everything and needs to replace it” As the elevator doors closed, Richard leaned against the back of the wall, checking his phone for messages. Sure enough, his wife was checking in on him at work, as she always seemed to. “Urgh…Janet” “Hmmm? Trouble in the Forrester household?” Richard shook his head “Nah, just getting the old “Are you sure you’re ok in work?” spiel. She cares a lot but man she can be…” His phone went off again, another message from her had popped through this time with a picture. “Come on kiddo, I know you’re there! You left your lunch at home silly!” The picture made Richard raise an eyebrow. She’d taken a picture of a kids lunchbox, adorned with cartoons and primary colours. He’d never seen it before in his life. “Oh wow, that's your lunchbox?” “NO!” Richard snapped back at the fox, immediately feeling a blush of shame come to his face for responding that way. “Hah, right, of course not.” Richard growled a little under his breath as he started to respond “Where did you get that from?! Great prank Janet, but I’ve got my lunch back in the office in my own tupperware” The elevator stopped at another floor. Richard began apologising as those outside looked disappointed at the pile of boxes taking up all of the space. “Sorry! I’m sure there’ll be another…” He stopped for a second as the door closed. Stifled giggles were coming from all of the staff. The fox burst into laughter as soon as the elevator started up again. “Richie you might want to take your pacifier out before you talk” What? “I don’t have..” he immediately felt his tongue smacking against a rubber teat. His eyes widened, looking down at the offending accessory that had found its way into his muzzle and pulling it free. It bounced off his chest as the clip that was attached to his shirt pocket caught it on the way down. “What the heck…” He felt his phone go off again. Grabbing at it he looked at the message that had just come in from Janet. “Oh you silly bee, that’s not yours! You should know better than to lie to mommy! I bet you couldn’t even do it without having your pacifier in, you always do that just before you tell me a fib!” Richards jaw dropped. Whatever was happening this was not how he’d expected this elevator ride to go, even as it reached its final stop. Whatever, he’d solve it once they’d unpacked everything, Janet acting strange was the least of his worries. “Ah, Richie!” The jackalope had been waiting for his delivery just outside his office “Glad to see you again, loving the new pacifier, Janet get it for you?” “I… errr…” “Just teasing” he took a small craft knife out of his pocket “Let’s just check the first lot…” he opened the tape of the first box the fox handed down to him, pulling open the cardboard sides. “Looks great! Oh, Richie!” He pulled out another box from inside the delivery, this one adorned with babyish designs “This is for you! Janet called me and asked to order this in. I have to say I think a lot of us are very jealous you have such a lovely mommy” he chuckled a little. Richard could barely keep his jaw off the ground “WI-FI BABY MONITOR - KEEP TRACK OF YOUR LITTLE ONE ANYWHERE!” As his phone went off again he shoved the pacifier back in his mouth and ran back into the elevator... ************************************************************************************************************* Jack couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he made the changes. Richie had always been funny to watch around his wife, a quick change to make her his “Mother by Regression” was far more fitting anyway. When they called for his character evaluation it would change the questions - “Does Richard need regular nap times”, “Does Richard prefer cloth or disposable diapers” - certainly lower his expected standards a little… and by extension the company average. He glanced around again. He was on a roll at this point, in for a penny in for a pound on the whole thing. “Timesheets - Break and Lunchtime Monitoring - Q1” Well… one last little edit would do for now… ************************************************************************************************************* Henry sighed as he leant back in his office chair. He had no idea where Jack had got to, the hyena must have been stuck in a side office working on equipment or something. The IT department was on a skeleton crew at the moment, Paul was at lunch and Jack was, well, not particularly useful at the best of times. He leaned forward, adjusting the booster seat under him a little. Being a field mouse came with a mixture of pros and cons in this place. He had all the accessibility items he could ever need for someone his size, but he did wish they weren’t all in primary colours. He glanced at his watch. Paul should’ve been back from lunch by now, and was delaying his own. “Guess I’ll go grab him, probably got stuck chatting to one of those cats down in accounting…” He made his way out of the IT office and down the hall. There was a little bit of commotion going on, a few of the girls were giggling outside the kitchen. He caught the word “accident” as he came up to the doorway. “What’s happening? Did I miss…” “Oh Henry dear is it time for your feeding already?” He looked to his right to see the head of catering, a large and motherly bear, walking towards the entrance, her apron stained from trying to persuade some of the regressed staff members to eat the veggies their caretakers had asked them to provide. “Is Paul there, he’s…” The mouse yipped as he was suddenly lifted off the ground the bear hoisting him on her arms “Now now dear, don’t worry, your bottle is ready and waiting to go in the warmer as always” Henry’s eyes widened as he looked up at his captor, squirming in her arms “Wa..wait! What are you doing?! I don’t need a feeding, I’m not regressed!” The bear gave his tummy a rub with one of her large fingers, her fur sneaking between the buttons of his shirt, untucking it and causing the mouse to squirm around it. “Ssshhh, I know you're not regressed silly, but that’s what’s on your lunchtime chart isn’t it! It’s alright, we’re always happy to oblige, no need to be embarrassed” He went to open his mouth to complain again but before he could, the bear started to rub his tummy again. It was relaxing and calming, far more than he’d like to admit. He felt himself mewl a little as he heard the beeping of the warmer finishing up what he could only assume was about to be his next meal. “Now Henry, don’t worry, Mama Bear is gonna let you finish this up and then you can have your nap ok?” Nap?! He didn’t have naps at lunchtime he… Before Henry could finish that thought the teat of the bottle was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He couldn’t help but swallow the warm milk that started to flow into his little maw, it’s taste washing over every part of his mouth. “There we are! See, no problem at all. Your manager was in here a little while ago, the poor kitten had a bit of an accident. Guess something is going round in IT?” Henry wasn’t really focussed on her voice. He just continued to nurse, desperate to get the experience over with so he could… “Oh dear!” Henry's eyes went wide. The warmth of the milk had flowed down into his stomach, but a different heat was now running down his suit pants. “Goodness me, guess someone needed to make a bit of room huh? Not to worry, this bear’s seen much worse. But I don’t think you’ll be able to stay in those pants…” The mouse tried to pop the bottle out of his mouth to get out some sort of explanation, but the paw of the bear was keeping it firmly in place. “Now, where are those diapers…” ************************************************************************************************************* Jack grinned from ear to ear. Adjustments to lunchtime rotas and meals took a little time to get ready, so by the time of his appraisal, he’d be the only one making himself his own lunch there. Henry would have to have bottles for a week or so before they made that correction, but it would be funny watching him try to explain it to a diapered Paul... Satisfied with his adjustments the hyena saved the relevant documents. That was it for the day, no need to go completely overboard and bring too much suspicious behaviour to the attention of HR. They liked to track these things, and going too far could mean IT could get a permanent changing table in the office. He shuddered at the idea… Still, he couldn’t help feeling like he needed to edit his own document just to be sure. It had been pretty harsh after all. He had to be careful and remove something specific. Removing everything would be obvious. Scanning down the list of bullet points he saw one he could very easily get rid of “He’s noted to be a clumsy member of staff. Motor control that of a child at times, recommend sippy cups and bibs at lunchtime as a precaution” That was bull, but he knew that would be the sort of thing he’d find particularly annoying if any of that was acted on. He selected the entire line and deleted it before moving the mouse towards the close button Except it didn’t get there. It span across the screen, slowly moving its way across the taskbar “What the…” It must have crashed, he thought. The next thing to do in this situation was to bring up the task manager and… His fingers clenched into fists, preventing him from even doing that. Panic spread across his face as he felt his legs push him away from the desk and start to move of their own accord, pulling him to the ground in a crawl. “What… what’s happening?!” he shouted out loud. The empty office didn’t respond, but his arm seemingly did. It slapped against his muzzle, feeling like he’d slept on it for days. His jaw opened as well, licking at the end of his fist and drooling round the back of it. Before he could try to regain control, his thumb had firmly lodged itself inside, his body seemingly desperate for the oral fixation. The hyena felt tears come to his eyes as he fell onto his back. The image of Paul coming in to find him like this was too embarrassing to think about. If he could just get himself back to his feet he could… “Hey do you have my laptop ready yet?” ************************************************************************************************************************************************** If you'd like to read more of my work, please visit www.patreon.com/DaddyWuffster I post three 3000 word stories a month there. You'll get two on the $5 tier and 3 on the $10 tier! Plus if you subscribe on the $10 tier you'll get one of them (voted for by Patrons!) as an audiobook!

Mama's Magic Guide to Parenting: Chapter 1 Morgan had had enough. She loved her son with all her heart, but he was just too much. Smoking, drinking, breaking things, throwing tantrums. And he was twenty years old! Of course, she knew it was probably partly her fault that this had happened. She had let his behavior go on too long unchecked. You see, when her son Michael was 15, she divorced her husband. It was a nasty divorce as well with both of them fighting for custody and she admits she let Michael slip to the backburner in favor of getting over on her ex husband. Gaining sole custody of him eventually, but the damage was done. Michael was too far gone feeling ignored and unloved he sought out the wrong crowd. Started smoking cigarettes and weed. Cursing at Morgan. Acting up in school. Morgan didn't know how to handle it. And now here she was, still supporting him after he barely graduated high school by the skin of his teeth and absolutely refused to go to college. "That shit is for fucking pussies, Morgan!" He had yelled at her when she showed him college brochures and slammed the door in her face. She was tired of it. But what could she do? She didn't want to kick him out! His father was a deadbeat! And Michael couldn't hold down a job long enough to establish funds! But she couldn't go on like this anymore! So she got desperate. There was a woman. She lived in a tiny almost shack looking house near the train track by the old fire department before it (ironically) burned down. And this woman had rumors tied around her. People whispered of miracle cures, spiting curses, spells, witchcraft, everything. But it mostly just seemed like schoolyard shenanigans. The kinda thing kids would tell each other as they snuck up to the place but never got brave enough to enter the property. And well...Morgan was desperate. Taking what rainy day funds she had hidden, she shoved it into her purse and jumped in her car. The way to the supposed Witch's Shack was mainly bumpy backroads that sent dirt flying everywhere in the road. But Morgan pressed on. She stepped up the rickety porch stair and poked the doorbell nervously. But she heard nothing on the other end. She even pressed the button again and yet there was still nothing. Not even a small chime. With a sigh she pulled the screen open and knocked on the door only for it to be ripped open. She was left standing awkwardly as a woman, younger looking than herself, answered the door. "I heard you the first time! What do you want?! I don't accept solicitors!" The woman sneered in annoyance as she leaned against the doorway. Morgan waa surprised by how...non-witchy this woman looked. Tall. Almost Amazonian height. Curly black locks that fluffed up in the softest way. Her skin a nice umber shade. And just like that her hopes were dashed. She should have known better. There was no such thing as magic. She was stuck with a spoiled boy for the rest of her life... "I...I'm sorry. I...Nevermind. Sorry for wasting your time." Morgan muttered as she clutched her purse and turned around dejectedly. "Wait." The woman said with a sigh as she crossed her arms and Morgan turned around in confusion. "It's your boy ain't it? He got a slick mouth and an even worse behavior don't he?" "I...how did you-?" Morgan was cut off as the woman chuckled. "I can always tell. Come on. Le' me make you some tea while we talk." The woman spoke in a Creole accent as she stepped back, holding the door open for Morgan to come through. Morgan walked in almost petrified. What kind of things would she see? Voodoo dolls? Shrunken heads? Decapitated chickens? She saw none of that. What she did see however was a small, but cozy, sitting room with an open kitchen and dining room. The decor was not ritualistic. Nor was it gruesome. In fact, it was homey and warm. If anything the only possibly witchy items were several crystals and insense burners. Taking a seat on the surprisingly comfy couch, Morgan looked to the woman. "So...you are a witch then?" The woman smiled. "Of a sorts." And she flicked her wrist causing the stove light to flick on and begin heating a tea kettle. Morgan was speechless at the display. They woman laughed once more as she sat down on a leather arm chair nearby with grace to spare. "So...tell me about your boy." And then Morgan couldn't stop talking. She told this woman everything. Her divorce, her slacking with Michael's disipline, his bad behavior, all of it. The woman listened with eyes full of sympathy. Only moving to ready the tea and hand Morgan a cup on a saucer. "A-and...I heard about you. About the witch's shack. I...I thought you could help me." Morgan felt tears come to her eyes. "I just want my son to love me again." She sobbed. The sorta-witch(?) Woman stood up and crouched in front of Morgan. "You poor thing. You let that boy beat you down and walk all over you..." Morgan sniffled and nodded as she fished a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "I didn't do it on purpose. I just wanted him to be happy." The witch woman stood to her full height just as a small wailing could be heard from another room. "Oh...little Willy's awake. I'll be right back, ya hear? You just sit here and drink your tea." Morgan, once she stopped crying, finally managed to take a sip of her tea. She sighed happily feeling aches she long ignored fade away making her feel warm and happy inside. A peaceful smile warmed her face. Well, if the witch couldn't save her son...maybe Morgan could get the tea recipe instead. She mused. Just like that the witch lady came back holding a small swaddled baby in her arms. The front of her shirt was pulled down, exposing her bra and a single uncovered breast that the little baby was latched onto. Suckling greedily, but letting out gentle coos of happiness. Morgan caught herself staring and jerked her head up. "Don't be shy, sweetpea. This is natural for all mothers." The woman- Morgan should really ask her name -said as she took her seat once more. "I...I wouldn't know. Michael didn't breast feed. Not after his first night after birth." Morgan explain as she sipped her wonderful tea once more. She received a look of pity. "Oh hun, that's part of the problem. Babies, especially boys, need that connection with their mama! Ain't that right, little Will?" And Morgan was shocked to see the little baby, no bigger than a year old, actually nod. "How???" The woman gave her a patient smile. "You see, miss ma'am. Little Will here is already forty six years old." Morgan...Morgan didn't know what to think. How could this baby, who was happily nursing on his mother's bosom, actually be a 46 year old man?! "And me myself I am not a day over One Hundred and Five." The witch explained. "William was the world to me. My sun, my moon, my stars, my reason for existing!" The woman said passionately as she rocked her son. "But...he's a baby still!" Morgan spat out incredulously. "Yes! But he wasn't always. He was a man. Just barely at the tender age of 19. And you know what he did? Decided he didn't need his Mama anymore! Went out, started wearin' his pants too low, spitting in my face, running in gangs even! And I wasn't gonna let my little boy run off like that. To be some random body in the street. I gave up witchcraft when I had him...and I picked it right back up just as quickly." She had tears in her eyes as she looked down at her nursing boy. "You just had to learn to love your mama again didn't you, my sweet boy?" She asked him, brushing his little hair aside. The baby nodded once more, letting go of his latch to speak. "Uh huh. I nevuh gon' fo'get tah luv Mama 'gain." He swore nosing for the other nipple and latching on. "Is...is this what you want me to do to Michael?" Morgan asked still trying to recover from the fact that the baby just spoke. The woman raised a brow. "No hunny. Is this what you want to do for Michael. Because he won't straighten out. He's too far gone. Best option is to start over. You don't gotta go this young, go how ever young you want. But somethin' has gotta give. Don't let it be you." Morgan took that to heart. Feeling the statement empower her once more. "What do I need to do?" /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ Morgan was leaving an hour later, purse full of three jars of labelled powder and instructions on how to use them. She had tried to hand the witch her money, but she was waved off. "I don't need money, sweetie. Just go get your baby back." She had said. And Morgan was determined to do so. Not just for her sake, but for Michael's. She wanted her baby back, yes. But she also wanted him happy. And this was the only way.

Dennis came to still sitting in the dentist’s chair. Anesthesia had a weird effect on Dennis; on most people, in fact. The college senior didn’t dream when he was this drugged up as much as his brain just turned off. The last thing he remembered was the dentist asking if he’d made sure to go to the bathroom. Dennis hadn’t been sure why the old-timer had asked that, but he nodded anyway. ‘I wonder what he wants to know-?’ Dennis had thought. By the time his brain had reached ‘that?’, the clock had skipped ahead an hour, and he was drooling into the paper bib chained around his shirt. “Well, kiddo,” the old man asked, “do you want the good news or the bad?” “Gooo-noooog.” If he hadn’t felt so messed up, Dennis might have laughed at himself. He didn’t slur this much when he was completely shitfaced drunk. “The good news is,” the dentist said, “your surgery was a complete and easy success.Yanked those wisdom teeth right out with no problem at all. Now there’s plenty of room for your other pearly whites.” Automatically, Dennis’s tongue started to probe the back of his mouth. He felt more than tasted the bloody stumps where his last set of teeth had started coming in. He winced in pain. The dentist chuckled at that. Clearly Dennis wasn’t the first to do that to himself. “Wusha-baaaa-nooog?” The dentist didn’t say anything. Instead, he replied by pointing down towards Denni’s lap. Wobbly as all hell, Dennis had to muscle himself up so he could see exactly what the ol’ tooth yanker was motioning to. It was in the shifting of his weight from his back to his pelvis that he got his first clue. His groin rubbed up against something wet and clammy. The dark wet spot on the front of his khakis confirmed what his crotch had already told him: He’d pissed his pants. Dennis’s cheeks flushed bright red. THAT’s why the doctor had asked if he’d gone to the bathroom before he’d been gassed off to dreamland. “Don’t feel bad, son,” the dentist clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Happens to a lotta fellas your age. Some people can hold their anesthetic and some…” He must have seen the embarrassment in Dennis’s groggy eyes. He changed track. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Happens all the time.” A soft click as the door to the operating room (is that what they were called when it was just a dentist’s office?) and a familiar voice. “Yes Doctor? Your nurse said you wanted to see me?” It was Mom. Even through the haze of the laughing gas, Dennis knew that voice anywhere. “You’re his ride home?” The dentist asked. “A parent, maybe?” “I’m his mother, yes,” she said. “He’s staying with us this weekend while he gets his wisdom teeth removed. Is he ready to be driven home? She walked over to the chair and leaned over. You okay, baby? Ready to go…” she saw the wet spot on his pants. “Oh…?” “Yes, about that,” the dentist told her. “He had an unusually strong reaction to the anesthesia. Thought you might be able to help him.” Mom seemed a little dumbstruck. “Help him?” Who could blame her? Dennis certainly didn’t know what the guy was talking about. “It’s not like I still carry a diaper bag around,” she joked. The dentist’s laugh was hearty, good natured and absolutely fake. He must have heard something like that reaction a lot. He gestured over to a cabinet. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. Your son’s umm...reaction isn’t terribly uncommon. Take a look.” Mom opened the double doors of the cabinet just above a handwashing sink. On one side were folded up clothes, the ugly mint green that could only be found in a medical setting; clothes very similar to the dentist’s garb. On the other side were stacks of underwear; but the way they were folded and how bulky they were made them look like more than just underwear. It was Mom who said the word first. “Diapers?” “Medical briefs,” the dentist corrected. “Adult Pull-Ups if you prefer. That and cheap scrubs. Mild incontinence is a not-uncommon side effect, so I keep backups in stock.” He went on, as Dennis and his mother kept staring. “Nothing permanent,” he promised. “But things might be...hard to hold in for the rest of the day. Thought it prudent to be prepared.” “And?” It took Dennis everything he could just then to formulate that one word clearly. “And I thought you’d want help putting one on before you left.” He shrugged. “That or walk out of here in wet pants. Your choice. Or I could have one of my nurses come in and help...” Dennis thought about the pretty women he’d seen up front. The secretaries and nurses and hygienists. Some looked like they were a few years older than him, but not too old for him. He imagined them snickering and pointing as he left, the damp spot around his crotch a not so subtle marker of his shame. Worse, he imagined them yanking down his pants for him. “MOM!” he yelped. At least she’d seen everything; even if it had been a looooong while since she’d needed to. Mom let out a laugh. Sold, Dennis knew. “Been a while since you called me that,” she said. “Okay, I’ll help you. I’ll take you home and you can sleep the drugs off.” The dentist opened the door and slipped out. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said. “There’s also some old grocery bags that you can put his wet clothes in.” And with that, he was out of their lives. “First thing’s first,” Mom said, grabbing both of Dennis’s wrists. “Let’s get my big boy up and out of that chair.” Unconsciously, Dennis rolled his eyes, even as his mother had to help him to a standing position. “What?” she said, jokingly. “It’s been a while. This is all muscle memory; mouth included.” Dennis toddled over to the counter and had to lean against it just so he could slip his loafers off without busting his face. Ugh. Speaking of face, he got a nasty look in the mirror. More than his bladder had had a reaction to the knock out stuff. His skin had broken out in terrible acne again. His skin had been blotchy all the way from seventh grade until his senior year of highschool. He hoped it wouldn’t take him this long to ditch it. The feeling of Mom yanking down his pants for him brought him back to the present. At least she was looking away and kinda sorta averting his eyes. “This is just for today,” she reminded him, even as he stepped out of his wet pants and underwear. He hadn’t had to do something like this since before Kindergarten. “It’ll be boxers again tomorrow.” She popped open the adult Pull-Up, plain white and ruffled around the waist so it could fit the maximum amount of sizes. “You’re still my big…” she giggled and slapped the counter. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” “Fanks,” he mumbled. He managed to pull the not-diaper up around his hips. The gross green scrubs were next. Less embarrassing, but he needed more help to get his feet through them; long legs and all. Time to cut the tension. “Why do they call ‘em wisdom teef anywaysh?” He was getting better at talking. At least the numbness above the waist was going down. Mom helped him finish by pulling the pants up herself. “It’s because of the whole ‘older people are wiser’ belief.” She grabbed his sneakers and helped him slip them back on his feet. Even redid the laces for him. Sneakers? Laces?! She didn’t see Dennis blanch. Damn. Anesthesia really had knocked him on his ass. He couldn’t even remember what shoes he’d been wearing. “Yeah?” Dennis asked. That made sense. “Did the gash knock you on your butt this bad when you got yours taken out?” Mom stood up and stuffed Dennis’s wet pants and undies in a shopping bag. “Nope.” That made Dennis blush a bit. “Never had them taken out.” She pointed to the back of her mouth as if he’d take the time to count her teeth. “I think you got your jaw from your father’s side.” “Ah…” was all Dennis said. Didn’t have much else to add, truth be told. Nothing left to do but to take his Mom’s hand, and stumble past the other people in the waiting room. At least his dignity was largely intact. Light snickers followed him out the door. It only then occurred to him that all the nurses already knew what the change of pants meant! Shit! *************************************************************************************** “How’d it go?” Dad asked when Dennis wobbled in, Mom still having to hold his hand. “He’s no longer wise, anymore,” Mom joked. “Nope…” Dennis said. “Not wiiize.” His mouth had regained most of its feeling, but he was still slurring a bit. His gums were starting to throb, and he let out a low moan unconsciously. Dad twisted his mouth a little bit and cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with the pants?” he asked. “Scrubs?” Mom kept shuffling Dennis along. “The doctor gave them to us. Dennis needed them.” Dennis dry swallowed. Please no, please no, please no, please no.. “I never had my wisdom teeth removed,” Dad said, “but I’m pretty sure dentist’s don’t operate down there…” Please no, please no, please no, please no… “He had a little too much anesthesia and wet his pants,” Mom said. “So he’s in trainers for the day.” There. Ripped that band-aid right off. “Mom!” Dennis said, right before having to stable himself against a kitchen chair. “Private!” “Nothing to be embarrassed of, Denny,” Dad said, a faint smirk on his mug. He hadn’t used that nickname since Pre-K. “Your mother and I changed your diapers before, we don’t mind doing it agai-?” The palm of Dennis’s hand slapped down on the nearest flat surface. It wasn’t nearly as thunderous as he had wanted it to be, but it was enough to cut Dad off. “I...CAN CHANGE...MYSELF!” The adrenaline carried his pounding footsteps straight out of the kitchen and to the bathroom door. His dulled senses, motor skills, and momentum sent him crashing headfirst into the closed door. Knees buckled. The world went topsy turvy. A set of strong arms caught him in a trust fall. “Easy there, bud!” It was Dad. “You just had an operation and your’re woozy is all. No shame in needing a little help.” No shame in needing a little help… Something about that phrasing stuck in Dennis’s mind. It’s something his father had told him repeatedly growing up, and his stupid pride made things worse. He’d told it to Dennis when he was seven and still wetting the bed; needing goodnites. Dennis had heard it that year in middle school when he’d broken his foot, but was too proud to let someone carry his books for him. Same spiel from freshman year of highschool, and they hired a tutor to stop him from failing algebra...and the tutor was someone he’d had a crush on. And now he was hearing it again when a bad reaction to anesthesia was making him need disposable underwear for all of a day. “Sorry,” Dennis said. Gently, his father patted him on the shoulder. “It’s my fault, son,” he said. “I shouldn’t have teased you. That’s on me.” Dennis looked back. The smile Dad wore was softer this time; a polite and gentle regret. Mom took Dennis by the hand. “Come on, hun. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She opened the door, and Dennis was gently boosted back into a full on standing position. “Thanks, Mom.” Dennis started wobbling into the bathroom. “Anything I can do to help?” Dad asked. Mom followed Dennis in and closed the door to just a crack. “Just make sure the dishwasher isn’t running. Hot water runs out faster if it is.” “Got it.” Dad walked away. “Oh, and maybe some water?” Dennis asked. “Knock out drugs dehydrate you, right? I think I read that somewhere.” It might be the placebo effect, but just thinking about it was making him thirsty. When no response came, Mom said, “I’ll make sure to tell him.” She went for Dennis’s pants. “I can do it myself!” Dennis whined, though he made no move to slap her hands away. This was like being drunk without the fun parts. He hadn’t even realized he was leaning on the bathroom counter again until just that moment. Not even bothering to argue, Mom tugged the scrubs and the medical Pull-Up down to Dennis’s ankles. He was able to slip his shoes off and step out so that Mom could ball the disposable up and toss it in the wastebasket. Before she did, he noticed a yellow stain in the padding. A big one, too. Ooof! He hadn’t even realized that he’d been peeing. Must’ve been when he bonked his head or something. “Arms up,” Mom said. Dennis obeyed, almost reflexively. Must be the drugs. The t-shirt was pulled off of him and added to the puddle of clothes on the bathroom floor. “Thank you,” Dennis said. Mom leaned over the bathtub, and turned the water on. ”Welcome.” Hot water came pouring out and steam started to rise in the air. “Thank you…” Dennis repeated. “Welcome.” Clearly, there was a miscommunication going on. When Dennis said “Thank you” he meant it in the same way that a person thanked a waiter refilling their glass: Sincerely appreciative and also with the unspoken expectation that the person would quietly leave once the task was complete. “Um...a little privacy, please?” It felt so awkward to have to say it; in front of his own mother no less and naked to boot. “No.” Dennis blinked. “No?” Mom rolled her eyes. “Honey, you bumped your head not two minutes ago just walking here. I’m not going to have you slipping and cracking your head open.” He looked at the filling tub, a cloud of steam already hitting the roof and fogging up the mirror. He’d only wanted to come in here for the privacy and the chance to wash his own stink off him. He was now being denied one of those things. “Can I at least turn the showerhead on?” “I think it’s best if you just sit in the tub.” Already, she was guiding him, one foot then the other, into the tub. A kind of muscle memory was kicking in, and Dennis was sitting down before he could try to make a counterpoint. “Safer that way. Easier on your muscles.” The tub was rapidly filling. The water was already filling up past his waist. His legs sang out. For some reason they ached terribly as if they’d atrophied or he’d sprinted three miles. The hot water felt wonderful to be submerged in. Something stubborn yet lingered inside him. “So you want me to risk drowning instead of cracking my head open?” It was more of a joke than anything, and his mother took it that way. Dennis couldn’t drown if she was there watching him. She chuckled and opened a pantry underneath the sink. The lavender colored bottle she took out poured out lavender colored contents. A moment later, the water was becoming foggy, foamy, and lavender scented. Bubble bath. ”There,” Mom said. “There’s your privacy.” Dennis relaxed a little. “And if you pee again, she added, “I won’t notice.” So much for that relaxation… Once the bubbles encased and clouded his manhood, Dennis was able to relax a little bit. Truth be told it wasn’t that bad. As long as Mom didn’t talk (which thankfully she stopped), this was kind of relaxing. It was nice to just have his muscle aches be boiled away; and to have his thoughts be able to float in the water with him. He even let Mom break out a washcloth and get the parts of his body that weren’t submerged wet and soapy. For the first time since waking up in the dentist’s chair, his skin was turning pink from something other than embarrassment. It was nice to just close his eyes and drift off as he was massaged and pampered. He’d had a rough morning, but it was turning into something of a spa-day. Too soon for his taste, the water in the tub turned tepid, verging on cold. “Okay…” he finally spoke. The numbness in his mouth was completely gone. Even better, the pain in the back of his gums was gone too. He ran his tongue along the back of his mouth and felt no soreness or stitches. No taste of blood either. Amazing! Maybe the anesthetic hadn’t worn off as much as it had just started working in the places it was supposed to work. “I think I’m done,” he said. Ready to get out.” “Sure thing, hon.” Mom grabbed a fluffy towel. “Do you need help getting up?” So nice to be asked! Experimentally, Dennis leaned forward and steadied himself on the rim of the tub. The water supported his weight and the world didn’t seem quite so wobbly as before. “I think I’m good.” Mom helped him out of the tub anyways and made a point of looking away even as she helped Dennis step into the towel. “Uh-oh!” Dennis stumbled...slipped really...and she steadied him. “Not quite.” She started leading him out of the bathroom. “I think a nap is in order.” A shiver and a sudden sense of relaxed tiredness. The water droplets evaporating off of him and his exhausted muscles made the idea seem appealing. “Yeah. Okay.” Dennis’s old bedroom was fairly spartan. In fact, it wasn’t even really his bedroom anymore. Since he’d moved into the dorms, his room had been converted a kind of bland guestroom. No more video game systems, movie posters, childhood trophies and keepsakes, bookshelves, or closets full of things that couldn’t be parted with come garage sale. Only bare beige walls and a neatly made bed with boring navy sheets, and an empty dresser remained. Hindsight can be a real kick in the pants: When Dennis had scheduled his wisdom tooth removal, he’d planned to move back in for the weekend to recover, but hadn’t brought in any kind of suitcase.. He hadn’t planned on needing a bath to get rid of any kind of pee-pee residue, either. “My clothes,” Dennis said. “I’ve got a bag in my car…” “Don’t worry about it.” Mom opened a drawer, and Dennis couldn’t help but gawk at what he saw. Goodnites. Bed wetting pants. Extra Large Pull-Ups. Whatever you wanted to call them, Dennis hadn’t worn them in years. “What are those?” Dennis felt stupid asking. He knew the answer; but then again “What are those?” wasn’t really the question. He knew what they were, but he didn’t know what they were doing here. Mom understood the question. “Just did some spring cleaning,” she told him, popping open a pair. “Found a half pack of these and thought to store them, just in case.” The young man’s eyebrows shot to the roof. “Just in case, what?” “I was thinking of grandkids in a few years,” she replied dryly. “But they’re gonna get used a little sooner.” Dennis opened his mouth to complain, and got a finger pressed to his lips before he could utter a syllable. “The dentist only gave us one pair of briefs and these are the next best things. You already had one accident. Let’s not have another.” Dennis literally couldn’t argue with that. His energy was flagging, and he was not long for this waking world. He’d turned beet red splashing urine on the inside of his pants. How much worse would it be if he peed the bed in the middle of the day? The fight left him as Mom knelt down and held the Goodnites open for him to step into. This time she didn’t even tell him to. He just did, only looking down long enough to make sure his feet slip into the holes. It was getting easier to do what his Mommy...erm...his Mother...wanted. ‘Wise’ or not, there were some habits that didn’t fade completely with age, and Dennis always was something of a Momma's boy. “Much better,” she said, and then snuck in a pat to his butt. The light swat caused Dennis to jump on his toes a bit. He looked at himself in the dresser’s mirror. He looked ridiculous. A big boy in what was basically a Pull-Up. It was like the cartoons with the big muscle man in nothing but a diaper and safety-pin. Except, Dennis didn’t look like a muscle man. Ooof! He looked like a wreck, truth be told. His skin was still blotchy from acne, and something had happened to his physique, to boot. The tone and muscle that he’d worked so hard for wasn’t reflecting back at him. He wasn’t flabby, but lacked any sort of definition. He was almost gangly. Practically pubescent. It reminded him when he was sixteen and he hadn’t “filled out” just yet as it were. That couldn’t be. Still, it was a bit jarring that a Goodnite could still fit over him. “It’s just for today and tonight,” Mom reminded him. “Till the operation gets through your system. You can wear your regular jammies tomorrow.” “Brought you something to keep you hydrated.” Dad walked in carrying a glass filled with red liquid. His eyes darted down, clearly seeing Goodnites, but choosing to remark. Probably for the best. Mom’s nudging could irritate Dennis, but a single remark from Dad was sometimes enough to make him feel like less of a man; such was his ego. “Drink up.” Dennis took the glass and stared at the cherry red stuff. “What is it?” “Kool-Aid,” Dad said. “Thought it’d taste better than plain old water. “Is that too much sugar?” Mom asked Dad. Dad scratched a bit of grey stubble on his chin. “It’s still mostly water, hon. It’s Kool-Aid, not that high fructose crud.” Dennis closed his eyes and knocked back the fruity drink. It was good. Really good! Sipping became gulping became guzzling. Dennis didn’t normally drink anything other than jaeger bombs this fast. “Oh! Careful there champ! You’re dribbling!” With a reflexive gasp for air, Dennis put the empty glass down, his belly now feeling comfortably flooded and full. Like a well trained pit crew, Dad swabbed Dennis’s chin and neck with a wet wipe. “Good stuff, huh?” Dennis nodded “Uh-huh,” he said. “Really good.” Mom touched the top of his lip. “Missed a spot,” she told Dad. That same smug grin came back to his father. “Oh, I just thought he wanted to look a little more like his old man.” Dennis looked back in the mirror. A stripe of red raced across his upper lip. An old-fashioned Kool-Aid mustache. He tried reaching out for a wet wipe so he could get himself, but his father simply stepped up and did it himself. “I’ve got it for ya, sport.” Now clean, dry, and hydrated, it was nothing at all for Dennis to wobble to his old bed, plop down on the mattress, and start to drift off, over the covers. “Should we tuck you in?” Mom asked. “Oh just let him rest,” Dad said. “He’s a big boy.” There was more than a little irony in his voice. He was falling asleep in what was essentially a diaper without the tapes. “We’ll wake you when it’s time for lunch,” Mom promised. “Get some sleep,” Dad told him. Turning out the lights so that only a thin shaft of sunlight came in through the boring beige curtains that had been hung in Dennis’s absence. Too late. Dennis was out before the lights. “Ni-ni…” he mumbled. He almost heard his voice crack. Almost... **************************************************************************** For the longest time, Dennis had been a thumbsucker. When he had been a baby, he almost never went to sleep without a pacifier in his mouth. Even when Mom and Dad had taken away all his binkies in pre-school, he’d just switched to his thumb. It’s not something he’d meant to do out of defiance; it’s just that his body had gotten used to the act. He’d finally kicked the habit when he was eleven by having Mom and Dad tape oven mitts to his hands for a week straight one blustery winter. Sadly for his teeth, the home remedy didn’t break the habit in time for him to not need braces. After enduring two years of braces,and nearly half a lifetime of insecurity all because of a frankly infantile habit, imagine Dennis’s shock and embarrassment to wake up with his thumb tucked deep between his lips. He hadn’t known when it happened; no dreams about slurpees or anything that would make his lips start to pump. His nap had been a dreamless sleep; just silence and darkness where time had lost all meaning. It wasn’t unlike being in the dentist’s chair in that regard. Part of his mind wondered if he had slept the day away. A glance at the kitty cat clock in on his wall immediately told him that it had only been a handful of hours. (Not immediately, actually...he had to find the little hand and then count by fives around the clock until he stopped at the big hand.) Dennis hadn’t even slept till lunchtime like he’d wanted to. But if it was one thing he’d learned about himself, it was that when his body wanted to wake up, there was no point in rolling over and snoozing. His eyes were open and any attempt to close them again would just feel like prolonged blinks. He’d likely gotten more than enough sleep in the dentist’s chair. Wiping his wet thumb on top of his comforter, Dennis let out a high pitched yawn; so high pitched that he startled himself into a sitting position. Immediately, he felt the sodden squelch beneath him. What the…? Oh yeah...the Goodnite. He’d needed it this morning. But it was only for today and only while he slept.. Tossing off the Paw Patrol sheets, Dennis swung his feet out onto the floor and stood up. With only his skinny thighs and gravity yanking it down; Dennis felt the full weight of the soaked garment threatening to sag right off his hips. It felt...loose. Oddly loose. Was it because he’d wet so much, or was it somehow too big for him? Maybe it was one of those things where it had been stretched so thin from him putting it on that it couldn’t hold its proper shape after less than two hours of use. He shuddered at himself for thinking of the word “use”. Gross. Out of a kind of nervous tick, Dennis ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. That, more than the wet night-pants caused him to suck his breath in. Something didn’t feel right. The young man grabbed the Goodnite at his hips and sloshed over to his dresser and knocked aside his dinosaur figures so he could lean forward and get a good look at his teeth. Crooked! His teeth were crooked! What the heck was going on? Years of orthodontics down the drain because he accidentally sucked his thumb, once! “Okay…” he squeaked to himself. Something sounded weird about his voice too...it sounded higher than he remembered. It must be because of the panic. “Okay...it’s not that bad.” They weren’t that bad. Bad, but not that bad. Not as bad as he’d remembered when he first got his braces put on way back when. Still crooked...but not too crooked. Will Ferrel had crooked teeth and he was still a leading man...in comedies at least. Another plus was that weird breakout on his face had cleared up. He looked at the top of his head and blinked. Was his hair a lighter shade? A quick knock and his door flew open. “You up, Denny?” “Huh?” Dennis said. “Yeah, Dad. I couldn’t sleep.” Dad had changed t-shirts since Dennis had laid down. Instead of a plain button up shirt, he wore a grey t-shirt with a cartoon picture of a pizza on it. Weird, but okay. “That’s fine, sport. You can get up from your nap.” Dennis felt oddly comforted that he had permission. “Still got a little time before lunch. Ready to get dressed?” Dennis had to shake a few cobwebs out of head. A little leftover sleep, it seemed. Why was his father even asking? “Uh...yeah.” Something must be wrong with his ears, too, Dennis thought. Something about his voice just sounded...off… “Okay. Do you need help getting that wet Goodnite off?” Nervously, Dennis's tongue ran across newly crooked teeth. “No.” Dad walked past Dennis and straight to his old closet. “Okie dokie, champ. You can take it off then. I’ll help you pick something out.” Rushing, Dennis shimmied his wet Goodnite down; feeling a plop as it hit the carpet so he could step out. He opened up his underwear drawer and stared down at it. A kind of mental nausea came over Dennis as a dozen questions assaulted him: Why were the walls of his room a different color? No more beige, but sky blue. Hadn’t he fallen asleep on top of his bed instead of under the sheets? Did that mean someone had snuck in to tuck him in? Weren’t his sheets plainer, too? Less childish looking? Where had the dinosaurs on his old dresser come from? And most importantly, “Dad? Why is my underwear drawer full of Pull-Ups?” There were still Goodnites in the drawer. But right next to them were a small stack of disposable training pants. Light blue trim on the sides, and Mickey Mouse riding in his car, they looked even more babyish than the soaked faux camo under Dennis’s feet. Dad seemed oblivious to the question. “Go on, big boy,” Dad told him. He placed a hand on Dennis’s naked shoulder. “Get dressed.” Dennis looked up to his father and repeated the question. “Why are there Pull-Ups in my underwear drawer?” He flinched when he realized that he was literally looking up to his father. Mom was a shorter woman, and Dad was on the tall side, so Dennis was always a bit shorter than this father, but he could have sworn it was by a couple of inches, not anywhere so that he'd have to bend his neck. Dad reached into the drawer and lifted up the stack of Pull-Ups. “Your underwear is still there.” Good old fashioned tighty whities (though they also had decorations on them) were bunched up under the toddler pants. “Your mother and I just thought it’d be better if you switched to Pull-Ups.” “Just for today?” Dennis asked. “Just for today,” Dad confirmed. “After the stuff the dentist gave you wears off, you can wear your big boy undies again.” He handed one of the Pull-Ups to his son. “Get dressed.” Dennis did. All by himself. He hunched over, and leaned against the dresser for balance so that he could fit his feet through the leg holes. When he pulled them up they didn’t feel right. Something was off. Good. He really was too big for these. A temporary measure, at best. Dad came back with a t-shirt that he promptly linked over Dennis’s head. “There we go!” he said. “Starting to look sharp.” The college student looked down at his shirt. Gray, just like Dad’s. It also had a cartoon pizza on it; but this one was just a slice. Dad’s was a whole pizza...that had a slice cut out. Matching father and son outfits. Cute. Oi vey. “Thanks…” Dad looked down at his Pull-Up and chuckled. “Denny, I think you need some help.” Dennis cocked an eyebrow. “Huh? Why? With what?” He’d dressed himself. Dad pointed at the front of Deniss’s waist. “That bright star right there? It says ‘back’.” A fresh coat of paint was applied to Dennis’s cheeks. He’d been so focused on keeping his balance that he’d accidentally put on the Pull-Up backwards. That’s why it fit so funny… “Here, let me help.” Dad took a knee. Dennis tried to politely decline “No, you’re fine.” Scriiiiiitch. Sriiiiiitch. Before Dennis could react The covert velcro sides were ripped open, sending the Pull-Up wafting to the floor like a leaf in the early Autumn. “Just easier to rip ‘em off and start over.” “DAD!” His father just grabbed another Pull-Up and opened it, just like Mom did. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, son.” Dennis stepped into the new Pull-Up, just wanting to get this embarrassing day over with. But when he looked down, he did have something he hadn’t seen before. More accurately, something looked different. His public hair wasn’t as dense. Weird. Manscaping, maybe? At least the Pull-Up still felt pretty stretched out, pressed to its limit; like he was too big for it. Good. That meant he wasn’t going crazy. “Remember,” Dad told him. “This isn’t a diaper. This is just in case your body forgets to go potty.” He pointed to the mickey mouse ears centered right on Dennis’s crotch. “That Mickey Mouse will fade when wet if you have an accident. You don’t wanna chase Mickey away, do you?” Dennis shook his head. A solemn vow had been made. A flash of denim blue. Dennis blinked. Dad was holding a pair of bib overalls. Only one word came out of the boy’s mouth. “Why?” “You don’t wanna just run around the house in your underwear all day, do you?” “These aren’t my-” Dennis stopped himself. Dad had a point. Not being a farmer, he couldn’t remember the last time he wore overalls- kindergarten, maybe- but there were certain practical advantages to it: They’d better hide his Pull-Up with no chance of it peaking out over the back of his pants, and the bib would cover up the childish t-shirt. “Okay….yeah.” Dennis didn’t argue with help getting the overalls on. He’d had enough trouble with something as simple as a Pull-Up. Denim lederhosen was way out of his capabilities right now… He looked down at himself. This would work, he decided. The legs went all the way down to his ankles, and the buckles on the bib were firm. The hardest part would be taking them off to go to the toilet, but that wouldn’t be an issue. He was awake now, it’s not like he’d be doing potty dances and having to rush for the bathroom. “Come on,” Dad said. Dennis blinked again. Had he gotten even taller? Before leaving his room, he took another look in the mirror. It was still Dennis’s face looking back at him...or a face he remembered…. Together father went out to the family room. “Your Mom and me are still fixing lunch. How about you watch some T.V.?” That was more than enough invitation for Dennis to take a seat on the couch and grab the remote. “Sure.” Finally, some normalcy. Dennis started flipping through channels. He didn’t have much time for just vegging out at school, so it was nice to just turn into a couch potato. Within five minutes, he remembered that it was more than just studying that kept him from T.V. these days. Over a hundred channels and nothing on. Sports. News. Lame sitcoms. Gameshows. Cartoons…? Spongebob was on. Dennis remembered Spongebob. He didn’t remember this episode though. Squidward had hit his head and was now being treated like a giant baby. Were they still making new episodes? The college senior did not like it when the “Squid Baby” pooped his diaper and needed changing. It was a real case of “I’m in this picture and I don’t like it.” He lifted his seat up and felt the back of his pants; not that he thought he’d actually taken a dump in his clothes...but just in case. Of course the episode ended with Squidward back to normal, followed by an older episode; one that Dennis vaguely remembered came on. Okay. Sure. A nostalgia trip wouldn’t hurt. Dennis watched a Spongebob cartoon. Then another. Then another. The “miracle” of lazy children’s programming made it so that while official marathons were a thing of the past, three hour blocks of the same show were the norm. A tap on the shoulder. Dennis looked up from his spot on the carpet. “It’s time for lunch.” Mom said. “How’s your appetite, Denny?” Dennis leaped to his bare feet. “Starving!” His eyes lit up. Did his voice sound higher? His throat didn’t hurt, though. Dennis’s attention drifted from his throat to his clothes. He could have sworn he’d been wearing blue overalls, not red. Weirder still, the leg cuffs ended just below his knees. Hadn’t they come down to his ankles just a little while ago? Was he hitting a growth spurt or were his clothes shrinking? Dang. That must’ve been some strong stuff he’d gotten hit with. Clothes didn’t just change color, and only shrunk in the wash. The stray thought that he’d had some kind of miracle growth spurt was equally ridiculous. He was a big boy; all done growing. “Coming Denny?” Mom was looking over her shoulder. Not wanting to hear his own strange yet oddly familiar voice, Dennis just nodded and padded along, the crinkle as he walked the only sound coming from him. Mom’s ears wiggled a bit when he closed. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. She turned around and looked down at him. “Do you need to go potty?” “No…” It was an automatic reaction. It was also the truth, but not in the way that Dennis might’ve preferred. His bladder did not ache in the least, that was true. But were his pants dry? He legitimately couldn’t tell. The Pull-Ups seemed a little looser. Almost like they were sagging a bit. He felt the temptation to reach between his legs and give the padding a squeeze but that would have tipped his mother off that he didn’t REALLY know the answer to her question. Mom clicked her tongue. “Okay…” She’d said it in that way that grown-ups did when they didn’t really believe you. He paused, long enough to let his mother get a few steps ahead of him and wondered: Hadn’t he gotten taller than her around middle school? Nervously he ran his tongue across the back of his teeth. They felt straighter than they had after the nap. This was all in his head. Things would make more sense after all of the medicine got out of his system. When he got to the kitchen, Denny didn’t have to guess where he was supposed to sit. “What’s this?” He pointed to the chair within the chair. He’d seen baby pictures of him circa age three sitting in it. “That’s your booster seat,” Dad told him. The bigger man hoisted him up by the armpits. “Hey!” Denny protested. A combined glare from his parents stopped him from protesting further. He sulked, instead just folding his arms over his chest as Dad finished buckling him in. It made a bizarre kind of sense, Denny supposed. He could barely keep his balance while putting pants on, today. It might be best for him to have something to keep him stable in his seat. Dad probably dug it out of the attic with that in mind. Though for something that had been sitting in the attic for nearly twenty years, the booster seat was in remarkable condition. Like everything else, it was a bit of a squeeze, but a manageable one. It didn’t even creak or crack under his weight, and the chair barely made a scraping sound as Dad muscled him up to the table. Like a professional waitress, Mom came holding three bowls at once. In her right hand and the crook of her elbow were a shredded mishmash of shredded meat and gross looking chopped up vegetables. “Chicken salad for me, and Daddy.” she said. Denny wrinkled his nose at it. It looked like cat food to him. “And a bowl of macky cheese for Denny.” In her left hand was a bowl of golden noodle goodness that made Denny’s mouth water. Macaroni and cheese! It was good to have a bit of comfort food when he was feeling so low. Mom took the seat next to Denny. Dad sat across from him. Mom dipped a plastic spoon into the cheesy gunk and picked it up. “Okay big boy. Open up!” The spoon came shooting out towards him, a speer stabbing at a lion’s maw. “Maaaahm!” Denny whined, turning his head. A bit of cheese sauce smeared on his cheek. “Denny…” “Come on, honey,” Dad said. “Give the boy a chance.” Mom twisted her mouth again, weighing the options and consequences. “Fine.” The spoon was put in Denny’s hand. Cheek stained with cheese, Denny took the spoon and shoved it in his mouth. His tongue fairly orgasmed at the taste and texture. Let his parents eat chopped up chicken and mayonnaise or whatever it was that went into chicken salad. He had everything he needed right in front of him. He dug the spoon in and shoveled another bite in. “Mmmmmm!” He couldn’t help but squeal as he swallowed. A bit of cheese leaked out the corner of his mouth. “Yummy!” “I think he likes it,” Dad nudged Mom. “Good call, hun.” Mom smiled and blushed a bit. Denny loved the macky cheese so much that he was willing to ignore his parents' terrible flirting with each other. He loved it so much that he somehow managed to miss his mouth on the next go around, an elbow noodle plastering his upper lip. How had that happened? The next spoonful was successful though. The third wasn’t. Denny was halfway through the bowl and only hitting a fifty percent success rate. He was going as careful and slow as possible, but his limbs were practical. His face began to turn red with frustration. Every spoonful he missed was a bite of macky cheese denied to him! If not for the bib catching him, his shortalls would be terribly stained. Bib? “Okay, I think he needs help.” Mom said. Her bowl was scraped clean. She even ate faster than him. She took a baby wipe from the spare pack off the dining table and dragged it over Denny’s mouth. Dad dragged Denny’s chair away from the table, “I think you’re right, hon” “Wait, I'm not done yet!” Denny said. “I’m still eating.” “We know,” Dad said. “We’re helping.” Denny heard a click and then felt a slight pressure against his stomach. Denny looked down at the tray that had been slid into place. His booster seat had been the kind that started out as a highchair but could be converted to a booster seat. It was being converted back... Mom saw the impending tantrum in Denny’s eyes. “It’s not permanent. It’s just for tomorrow. First thing tomorrow, we’ll turn your highchair back into a booster seat.” There was something off about that statement, but Denny couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Ready big boy?” Mom said. She dipped the spoon into the pasta and spooned it into his waiting mouth. It was much better to have a full belly than a full bib. It wasn’t even until the third or fourth serving that Mom started playing games with the spoon, pretending it was a submarine firing torpedoes filled with yummy payloads. “Fire eight!” Mom was scraping the bottom of the bowl. Denny let out a mighty belch while she readied one of the last payloads, and looked away. “ ‘Scuse me.” “That’s alright, sweetie.” He looked away anyways, feeling silly for not remembering to cover his mouth. When he saw his cheese smeared mouth reflecting dimly in the microwave, he realized that he had a lot more to feel silly about then a simple lack of manners. Denny looked younger. Much younger. The reflection was his, but it was one that he hadn’t seen since roughly fifth grade. There was more to it though. Mom and Dad were acting funny. He was acting funny. FIfth graders didn’t wear Pull-Ups. They definitely didn’t get spoon fed in highchairs by their Moms. “Mom…” That voice! That’s why it sounded so strange. It was pre-pubescent. His body was shrinking down to elementary school and his parents were “Fire ten!” Denny opened his mouth, chewed and swallowed the macaroni and cheese. Wait! Why was he doing this? Was it affecting his mind too? “Mom!” He cried out. “Mom! Stop! Something’s wrong!” “Mommy’s all finished, Denny.” She took a second wet wipe to his face and unclicked the tray. Denny grabbed her by the wrists when she moved in to unbuckle him, just so that she’d pay attention. He tried to summon all of the seriousness his squeaky voice could muster. “Mom! Something’s wrong.” Mom stepped back. Dad turned around from doing dishes in the sink. “What’s wrong, bud?” “Mom. Dad. This is wrong.” He gestured to himself. Undeveloped body, toddler shortalls and booster seat included. “There’s something wrong with me. I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m twenty-two, not ten. I shouldn’t be in a booster seat or training pants, or any of this!” Mom and Dad exchanged bemused smiles. “Of course you’re not ten,” Mom said. “Not yet.” “It’d be very silly if a twenty-two year old was in a booster seat.” Denny noticed how his father emphasized the word “year”. “I’M SERIOUS!” he shouted over them. In a bit of theatricality Mom put her hand to her face and tapped her chin. “Sounds to me like someone doesn’t want any popsicles for his desert.” “If he’s too fussy, he might not get orange…” An itch of panic. No popsicles?! He loved orange! “NO!” Denny powered through it. His mind was definitely being altered with the rest of him. “NO! NO! NO! NO!” He was too far away to pound the table and the feeding tray was gone so he settled for hammering his balled up fists into his lap. “Yikes,” Dad said to Mom. “He’s really working himself into a fit.” “DAD!” Denny begged. “MOM! PLEASE! SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH ME! I WENT TO DOCTOR...DOCTOR…” Crud! What was that dentist’s name? “Madison?” Mom suggested. “Doctor Madison?” “YES!” the young and getting younger man said. “THAT ONE! I WENT TO THE DOCTOR AND WET MY PANTS!” His tiny throat was starting to clench up and he had to power through just to choke the word out. “THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPENING! I NEED TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM! I NEED SOME KIND OF EXPERT. I NEED A NEW DENTIST! I NEED...I NEED…” who did one contact about one’s body going back in time? “I NEED A CHRONOLOGIST!” No such thing, of course, but if there had been... The back of Mom’s hand pressed to Denny’s forehead. “He is a little warm.” “That could just be from him shouting.” “Still,” Mom said. “He has been acting funny since we brought him home this morning. Maybe he’s having a bad reaction to something they gave him? Better safe than sorry.” She gave Denny a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go get the car ready.” Dad nodded and sighed. “You’re right. I’ll get Denny ready.” Yes! They were getting the car. Dad came and unbuckled him, and Denny started getting a tour of his own house via being carried over his father’s shoulder. “Dad,” Denny said. “I can walk.” Dad didn’t break his stride. “I know. I’m just gonna have to pick you up anyways.” “Pick me up? For what?” Denny found out when he was laid down on something soft and cushioned. “Huh?” He didn’t have time to react as his father pulled a restraint across Denny’s chest. “What’s this?” “You’re kinda wiggly today, bud.” Dad told him. “This is so you don’t roll off while I’m changing you.” “Changing?” Denny rolled his head to the side and saw his reflection in the dresser mirror. There had been a bookcase where he was currently laying. The thing he was on had shelves, but those shelves didn’t have books on them. “No!” Denny yelped. “Daddy! Not that! Please don’t put me in a diaper, Daddy!” He tried to unbuckle, but his fingers lacked the strength to push the catch. That wasn’t normal. Ten year olds were stronger than this, and didn’t have to lay on changing tables, besides. Did he even look ten anymore? He might’ve been younger, even, losing a year between the kitchen and room. “DADDY!” Unphased by Denny’s crying hysterics, Daddy unbuttoned the snaps running up and down the inseams of Denny’s.shortalls. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Those definitely hadn’t been there before. Reality itself was turning against him. “Don’t worry, Denny,” Daddy promised. “This is just because we’re going out and we want you to not have to stress out about making it to the potty.” The ripping off of the hidden velcro sides felt like tiny rips in Denny’s brian. “You need a change anyway.” He started wiping Danny’s penis down. He forced himself to look below his own waist while his father finished wiping him. The open Pull-Up was indeed soaked. He didn’t need to see the faded mouse ears to know that. More disturbingly, his pubic hair had completely gone the way of the dodo. Dad muscled the man-boy’s legs up to finish wiping him and then balled up the sopping Pull-Up like the diaper it really was instead of the underwear it was supposed to be. Mickey didn’t go away, though. The Huggies Size 6 that was slipped under him had similar decorations; though thicker padding and a white unisex coloring. “This is just for today,” Daddy promised. “You’ll get your big boy Pull-Ups back tomorrow.” Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Always tomorrow. His life was being stolen from him in degrees, with an ever babyish stick and empty promises that he’d get slightly older tomorrow. “What if I don’t make it that far?” Denny whispered. His father must not have heard him over taping the diaper on and popping the snaps back in place. “You’re almost too big for these…” Not for long. A pair of socks and sneakers later, and Denny was being carried through the house again. This time, he was able to ride, albeit uncomfortably on his father's hip. “Hurry, Daddy! Hurry!” All that got him was a condescending pat on the back. Mommy had already started the van when Daddy had carried him into the garage. “Okay, we’re ready to go.” Daddy slid him into a forward facing car seat and started buckling him in. “Got the diaper bag?” Mommy patted a blue canvas number that Denny could never remember seeing before. “Right here. Fully packed. Was he dry?” “Nope.” Daddy slid into the passenger seat “Not at all. Might have to think about putting off potty training for a bit.” Denny slinked down in his carseat. Already they were talking about dialing back his potty training as if he’d never finished it. And adults talking about him as if he wasn’t there or couldn’t understand them was something he wasn’t used to. “Guys,” he pleaded from the back seat. “I need to get. “I know,” Mommy said, pulling out of the driveway. “We’re going as fast as we can, sweetheart. “Don’t you remember?” Denny said. “I’m twenty-two. I’m about to graduate college.” “Oh yeah?” Daddy asked. “Yeah.” Denny said. “But then I went to get my wisdom teeth removed and I wet myself while I was asleep.. “Huh…” Mommy remarked. “Go on.” Denny was really hating the sound of his own voice. It was technically him, but it wasn’t in a range he’d remembered. “And since then, I think I’m getting younger and younger.” Daddy didn’t turn his head. “Oh really?” “Yeah. Like first my voice changed back before puberty. Now I don’t have any pubic hair. No wait. I think I started getting shorter first…” Mommy nodded. “Uh-huh.” Waves of relief were pulsating through Denny’s spine. “But my clothes are changing too,” he thought out loud. “I didn’t even have any clothes at home. Then I had Goodnites. Then Pull-Ups…” “I getcha,” Daddy said. “And my room is turning more and more into a baby’s room. The changing table wasn’t there before lunch. And even if I’m nine or whatever I shouldn’t be wearing diapers or sitting in a car seat.” “Yup.” They were agreeing with him? “I think something is happening with my mind, too. At first I thought it was the anesthet...ane...the knockout gas for my wisdom teeth, but it should have worn off by now. But it’s hard to tell how it’s affecting me.” No response. Then Mommy glanced at Daddy. “Wanna do pizza tonight?” “Guys? Mommy? Daddy?” Daddy tapped Mommy’s shoulder. “Your turn.” “That’s nice, baby,” Mommy said. “What else?” “You can’t understand me, now. Can you?” “Oh really?” Daddy chimed in. “What else?” They weren’t really listening to Denny, he realized too late. They were just doing the thing that parents of young children do by pretending they could understand the babble so as to encourage the kid to talk.. He leaned forward in the car seat and looked out the window. The roads looked so unfamiliar. Where were they even going? Would it do any good to ask? “This doesn’t look like the way to the Dentist…or the hospital.” “Yeah?” “Yeah…” “Okie dokie. What else?” He hung his head. “Nothing. Never mind.” “Uh-huh.” The parking lot was packed and no hospital in sight. Dennis tried to figure out where they were, but when he read the signs in the plaza he realized that the letters looked like they were nothing more than chicken scratch. “I can’t read…” Dennis gulped. “I can’t dress myself anymore and I can’t even read.” “Yup-yup, hun,” Mommy said after the second or third lap around the lot. “Stop the car and switch with me,” Daddy spoke up. “Denny’s getting restless, I think.” Mommy stopped the car. “Good idea.” His parents got out and shuffled around the outside. Diaper bag on one shoulder, Mommy slid the van open and leaned in and leaned in to unbuckle Denny from his carseat. “Let’s get you to the doctor, baby.” Knowing she wouldn’t understand him, Denny decided to hold his tongue. Even with the body of a seven year old (he’d guessed), he still felt ridiculous being carried around the parking lot by his mother. He did appreciate the gentle back rubs ,though, and that worried him. The door to the doctor’s office opened with the ringing of a little shop bell overhead. It didn’t take long for Denny to figure out that this wasn’t the dentist's office. Preschoolers and babies, real ones fussed on their parents laps or dozed in their mothers arms and cheap and well worn baby toys littered the floor. “You took me to a pedia…” the word wouldn’t come… “a pee-pee…? You took me to a friggin’ baby doctor.” Mommy just rubbed his back and bounced him a little. Denny caught a look at himself in a convex mirror. He was still too old to be in diapers, but he definitely looked like he should be going to a pediatrician. He was losing ties. The lady at the receptionist's desk wore light pink scrubs. “Hello may I help y-...Denny? What are you doing back here? Is he okay?” The question was clearly addressed to Mommy. An idea came to Denny. “Lady, you've gotta help me! I’m not a baby! I’m not even a kid! I’m twenty-two! A big boy!” He squirmed in Mommy’s grasp. “A BIG BOY! I’M A TWENTY-TWO YEAR OLD BIG BOY!” There was almost no reaction from anyone. A few mommies and daddies looked up at the source of the noise, but quickly disregarded it when they saw the source. A dirty thought. “THIS WOMAN IS ABUSING ME! SHE LOCKS ME IN A CLOSET BENEATH THE STAIRS AND BEATS ME!” Desperate times called for desperate measures. No one so much as stirred. Not even the few children who seemed old enough to talk reacted. This bizarre magic (no other word for it) was affecting more than he and his parents. It was affecting everyone who saw him. Likewise, Mommy ignored him. “I think he’s having a weird reaction to the booster shot he got earlier today.” “Booster shot? I didn’t get a booster shot!” Mommy jostled him a bit. “I know...I know…” She patted his back. Then his bum. She was checking his diaper right in front of these people! “I’ll let Dr. Madison know you’re back,” the receptionist said. “Go ahead and have a seat.” “NO! DON’T HAVE A SEAT! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Mommy ignored him and sat him down in her lap. He struggled and shrieked to get out of her grasp, but she held him fast. “Are you feeling hot?” she asked. Big strong adult hands undid the buckles to his shortalls. Denny caught the first falling strap, but not the second. She slipped off his shoes while “Mommy! Stop!” He was stood up on a neighboring waiting room chair. Gravity and Mommy’s strength went against his grip. HIs arms went skyward when Mommy yanked the t-shirt back over his head. More not listening from his parent. “You’ll be more comfortable in just your diaper,” she promised. Mommy was getting the barest gist of Denny’s discomfort. Even as a kindergartener, Denny would have been mortified to be in nothing but a diaper. “You’ll have to be undressed in front of the doctor, anyway.” Denny’s whole body heated up with humiliation. His hands shot down in a vain and futile effort to hide the front of his Huggies.. That only made Mommy gently slap his hands away and check his diaper. “Still dry.” A few other mothers saw Denny’s undressed state and decided to do the same to their actual children. That didn’t help Denny’s mood. “Denny Ides?” a nurse said, poking her head into the waiting room. “Right here,” Mommy said. She stood up with Denny and followed the nurse out of the waiting room. How young did they think he was, now? The lay-down scale and lay down measuring mat they used to measure his weight and height didn’t give him much hope. At least they took his temperature with a forehead scanner, leaving the nightmare scenario of rectal thermometers a thing of the past and fetishists. Left alone with Mommy in the exam room, Denny didn’t calm down as much as he kept quiet. Denny kept racking his brain: How was he going to get his Pull-Ups back? The door opened up and an attractive woman came in. The white lab coat branded her as a doctor. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Even though he was only twenty-two in real life, she was decidedly to Denny’s tastes before this, with beautiful auburn curls and dimples. The crinkling in the front of Denny’s diaper alerted him to something else: He had a twenty year old’s lust and a six year old’s dinky. “Hi Mrs.Ides.” the doctor said. She put on a big bright smile. “Hi Denny! Good to see you again.” Butterflies fluttered in Denny’s brain and he broke eye contact. “Someone’s feeling shy.” Mommy transported him to the exam table. “He’s been feeling more than that,” Mommy told the doctor. “Something’s gotten into him today. I’m worried he’s having a bad reaction to the shot.” “It’s normal to get cold-like symptoms within a day or two,” the doctor said looking a chart. “But everything seems to be normal.” “This is not normal…” Denny said. No one listened. “Yeah, I know,” Mommy said to the doctor. “It’s just he’s been acting rather….off...I guess.” “He may be feeling some effects, but not enough for any outward symptoms.” “The symptoms are pretty outward, lady.” The doctor ignored him, instead feeling his back and pressing a stethoscope to his chest. She continued to examine him, test his reflexes, shine lights in his ears and eyes. He kept making comments which were ignored or given just a cursory glance. “Is he still eating?” “Ate all of his macaroni and cheese.” “Any fatigue?” “He did have an early nap as soon as we got home. But he was playing in his crib not even two hours later.” Denny didn’t even have a bed back home anymore. “Sounds normal to me. First time Mom, right?” “Yeah,” Mommy said. “Denny’s our little miracle baby.” Miracle is not the word Denny would have used to describe his situation, but it did give him some more insight. “Miracle babies” were used to describe babies who shouldn’t have been born, usually because the parents were thought unable to conceive. Everyone might think he was a little pamper pusher, but his parents were seen as just as old. This cosmic injustice anger Denny to no end. Rage started to replace fear. A growl rattled up out of his body. “WILL YOU JUST FFFFUUUUGIN LISTEN!” Why was it so hard for him to make the “F” sound? He opened his mouth and felt for his teeth. They were there, but only some of them. His front teeth were almost non-existent. He had a full on case of jack-o-lantern grin. His tiny pudgy finger recoiled as if it had touched a hot stove. “Oh?!” A glove finger zoomed into Denny’s mouth and prodded at his gun. “This might be the culprit,” the doctor lady said. “I think he’s teething.” “Already?” “It would explain his appetite and irritability. He wants to chew. It hurts otherwise. I can recommend some good pediatric dentists for when most of his teeth are in.” It was only some shred of bewildered empathy that kept Denny from biting down with his remaining teeth on the woman’s finger. “Oh yeah,” she said. “One more thing. Do you mind if I take his diaper off?” “Go ahead.” What about Denny? Didn’t he get to consent? Apparently not. His back hit the examination table; basically a changing table and the diaper was ripped open. “Gotta make sure his testicles have descended. “Heh,” she chuckled looking down at his shrunken penis. “He’s a boy alright.” Embarrassment at her comment and shock as she squeezed his tiny grapes took care of any erection that remained. She stepped away and removed her gloves. “He seems to be developing just fine, in my opinion. I think you’re just worried over nothing. Which means you’re an attentive and caring mother.” she added. “Go ahead and get him dressed. No charge for the extra visit.” “Thank you doctor.” “Ffffuck you doctor.” It was a minor benefit that no one could understand him. He didn’t bother to sit up from the table. His body was aching to the point where sitting up to be pushed back down would have been more effort than it was worth. Mommy held him down with one hand and took the old diaper away. “Not wet but…” she squinted at the front. “Size 6? How did this get here? Weird.” Yes. Very weird. Just not for the same reason she thought it was. The diaper that replaced it was even smaller. Still snug...this did not bode well for Denny. Neither did the absence of shortalls and shoes as she dressed him. The pizza slice t-shirt had transmogrified itself into a pizza slice onesie. The leak guard leg cuffs his new diaper still peaked out of the bottom. Everyone who saw him would know that he was diapered...not that they’d think there was anything wrong with that. A pre-schooler in a onesie might be odd, but it wouldn’t be unheard of him to be diapered. He ran his hand through his hair. It felt thinner. Finer. Another glance at the nearest mirror showed him to be nearly blonde. He’d been born blonde, and his hair darkened as he’d gotten older….not much time left. “Really…?” Daddy huffed as Mommy carried the regressing boy out of the clinic. “I just found a parking space.” He was pushing an umbrella stroller. “Why’d you bring his stroller?” Mommy asked. “I figured we could go on a walk after. Enjoy the fresh air.” “It’s after now.” “Good point.” Mommy started to lower Denny into the stroller. Another thing with a buckle that he had no hope of undoing. Another mobile prison. Another infantile contraption to just demote him further and further… ENOUGH! He bit down as hard as he could with his remaining teeth, right on Mommy’s hand. “OW!” Mommy shrieked, and pulled back. With all his might, Denny pushed off the stroller’s foot rest and leaped out. He landed on the ground on his feet but did not run. His knees buckled and his arms caught him. He couldn’t even walk anymore. The element of surprise was still all on his side. Scrambling like his life depended on it, the twenty-two year old toddler crawled between his mother’s legs. “DENNY!” Round a corner! Hide! Do something! He had to get away! This might be his only chance. He was out of ideas otherwise. The opportunity of ideas was robbed from him. His body stopped. Was he about to plop down on the sidewalk, unable to even crawl? Something was about to plop... When he’d wet his pants, Denny had been blissfully unaware; either asleep or mesmerized by cartoons. As the single cramp flooded his system and his gut started to push, Denny had no such luxury. He was pooping his diaper. He was acutely aware of each movement of his bowels pushing the mass out: His cheeks spreading and the warm solid lump coming out of him and then smushing against the back of the diaper; causing the Huggies to balloon ever so slightly before the padding’s give gave out and the mush spread out while more and more came out of him. Shit. His adulthood. His future. His hope of escape. Everything was ending up in the back of that diaper and dragging it and him down into the abyss. “Gotcha,” Daddy said, snatching him up. “Don’t scare us like that, little guy.” Too despondent to cry out, Denny could only wince as he was buckled into the stroller. Something broke inside him. What was the point of crying? All it’d get him was another diaper change if was lucky. He might as well get used to sitting in his own mess. Emptying his body’s contents into his pants was the only forward passage of time he was experiencing. Denny sat in the stroller, sniffling as the world was pushed by him. Wriggling in discomfort, Denny tried to contemplate his fate.. Maybe he’d get diaper rash. Yeah...that’d show ‘em….somehow. Being “fussy” might be the only freedom left to him. “Connie? Frank?” a voice called out. The stroller stopped. A woman holding the hand of a big-kid came in. “I thought it was you two!” “Frannie?” he heard Mommy say. “Oh my goodness,” the woman said. “Is this Denny? He’s getting so big!” “Carter is too!” Daddy said. The big-boy giggled and waved. “Hiiiii.” He waved at Denny. “Hiiii, baby!” “That’s Denny, Carter.” “Hiiii, baby Denny.” The big boy said. Denny rattled himself awake. That wasn’t a big boy! That was a little kid! He looked three...four at best. And Denny looked younger. It took him trying to count his few remaining teeth with his tongue for him to realize he lacked the ability to count. He must be sitting on that, too. The grown-ups talked to each other, while Denny was “entertained” by the kid making “funny faces” at him. His gnashing teeth and spread (facial) cheeks and inside out eyelids were replaced by a turned up nose and audible sniffing. “Mommy,” Carter tugged on the grown-up lady’s pants. “The baby is stinky.” “That’s because the baby isn’t potty trained,” the boy’s mother explained. “He goes pee-pee and poopie in his diaper.” “Ewwww!” the boy giggled. Denny just wanted to die. “Don’t laugh, Carter,” Mommy said. “It wasn’t that long ago that you were wearing diapers too. “Nuh-uh.” Carter started to fidget uncomfortably. “Speaking of which, I think someone is getting ready to do their potty dance.” “Nuh-uh.” Oh how nice it would be to be understood by the grown-ups again, Denny thought. “Come on, Carter, let’s go to the potty,” the lady said, taking the big boy by the hand. “I got the last one,” Daddy said. Mommy walked around to the front of the stroller. “Fine,” she said. “I’ve got this one. Come on, baby.” The stroller shrunk away in Mommy’s arms. “Whew!” Mommy proclaimed. She patted his backside for emphasis. “How did all of THAT come out of little you?” “AAAAAAAH!” Denny cried out in despair. “AGABAH!” He sucked in his breath. Understand him or not, he couldn’t talk anymore. “Looks like there’s a long line at the ladies’ room hon.” Daddy said, peering off into the distance. “It’s going out the door.” Mommy looked at a nearby bench. “No big deal. I don’t have to go to the bathroom anyways. I can just change him here.” She flipped open the diaper bag and removed a changing mat. No! “WAAAAAAH! AH-AH-AH-AAAAAH!” Not in public! Not in front of everyone! This was too much to bear! “WAAAAAAH!” “Don’t worry,” Mommy cooed. “We’ll get you sorted out. It’s no fun to be in a dirty diaper, is it?” Denny was down on the hardwood, looking up at the sky. His onesie unbuttoned and his diaper untaped so that everyone could see the mess he’d made of himself. His head feeling like a lead weight, Denny looked at once last time to see his half naked body. He no longer even had the autonomy to decide when and who he was naked in front of. His penis had shriveled down to a nub. His testicles had retreated inside him. His tongue probed his mouth while Mommy wiped him. No more teeth, and plenty of room for new baby teeth to sprout out. His body had finally caught up to the way they were treating him. His mind wasn’t far behind. Maybe then this madness would stop and he wouldn’t get any younger; it wasn’t much of a prayer, but what else could he realistically hope for? A cool cloud of baby powder enveloped his not-so privates. Mommy slipped the fresh clean diaper, one of many many more to come underneath him. “Size two already,” she said. “It seems like he was just in New-Borns.” “Yup,” Daddy agreed. “They sprout fast. He’ll be going off to college before we know it.” “I hope not,” Mommy said. She pulled the diaper up and over baby Denny’s pelvis. “I love being his Mommy. I wanna enjoy this.” “Me too,” Daddy agreed. “Little stinker is cute.” Denny cried and tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. He didn’t want to be this pathetic but cute blob. He wanted to be a man! He wanted to finish college and go on dates and get a job. He wanted his wisdom teeth! Something else started dripping and Mommy looked at her shirt. “Heh,” she said. “I think he’s fussy because he’s hungry.” She lifted her shirt up and unclasped the front cup of her nursing bra. “WAAAAAAAAAH!” Daddy grabbed a blanket from the stroller. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” The lights went out for Denny as his father covered his head so no one would see him suckling on his mother’s breast. He wasn’t even thinking in words anymore. The last coherent thought in the boy’s brain occurred right as he latched onto the milky teat. “This isn’t so bad….” (The End)

This rp will be mainly about two sisters, Addison and Taylor. The story line will be that Addison makes a "fake" wish on her birthday cake candles. The wish results in Addison going from a new 16 year old to a new 8 year old and Taylor being regressed from 12 down to 4. Both girls have to work together to figure out how to undo the wish by the end of the week or they are stuck in there new ages. DM me if your interested and we can work out details, I'm good playing the girls, parents, or whom ever. I'm looking for detailed responses during the rp. Thank you hope to hear from you all soon

Looking for a rp partner on this one, it's a new element to me to explore. Posts must be more than a sentence long and have details. Thank you The idea/ base of the story is a 12 year old girl gets sent to her aunts house for her birthday week. Shes about to turn 13 by the end of the week but a baby sitter her aunt hired has another idea. Shes regressed physically either gradually or all at once to a toddler and has to either be a good girl and show shes a big girl ready to be a teen or be bad and have to regrow up again.