Chapter Description: Okay, the last chapter is pretty dark and disgusting. Don't read it if you don't like that sort of thing.
A small boy dressed as a fifties biker icon except for a bright white diaper instead of jeans puttered on his “mighty bike”. After applying a small amount of oil to the chain, he checked the tire pressure and wiped any stray smudges off its frame.
Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he put his meager box of tools away on a nearby workbench. Straddling the bright red Frog bike, he pulled the kickstand up with his foot. He began pedaling furiously making the bike with its rider roll away to do stunts in the street outside the boy’s house.
“V-r-ooo-m, vroom!” yelled the happy Damian as he zipped back and forth on the rough pavement. He jumped over a cinder block with a makeshift ramp made from a well-worn pine board and landed a few feet away from the apex of the brick and board on his back tire first, front tire second. A perfect landing!
After several repeat performances, Damian was tired and thirsty. He pedaled his bike back into the garage, put the kickstand up, and went inside for a glass of water.
His mother was in the kitchen preparing a meal for later. It was a typical casserole with noodles, canned soup, and cheese with breadcrumbs on top. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, merely tolerated it and moved out of the way as he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
“Don’t drink too much, Damian,” she admonished, “You’ll end up soaking your diaper too soon and I want it to last a little longer.”
“Ah, ma, I’m thirsty! It won’t go into the diaper, more like it’ll evaporate from my body before it gets there,” said Damian confidently.
“Really?” his mother moved towards him abruptly and squeezed his already soggy diaper, “I don’t see that the other three bottles of water you drank did, why should this one?”
“Ma-a-h!” protested Damian as he jerked back from her touch, “Just let it be, alright? Geez!”
The child who was feeling just fine until being confronted by his mother was now angry and moved to go back to the garage and ride some of that angst off.
“Dinner’s in an hour, be here or go hungry!” yelled his mother as he stomped out of the kitchen.
“Geez!” muttered Damian.
Riding around the block, Damian decided to go play in the park and took his bike on one of the many trails that were constructed for that activity. The “biker without a clue” pedaled his prized possession until he found a playground with a swing set. He got off the bike, locked it to a local bike stand, and began swinging on one of the swings.
A group of local children ages 5 to 9 was playing a game of tag nearby. They noticed that Damian was now in their territory and some of the group felt a little uncomfortable that a stranger had invaded their playground. After a break in the action, one of the bigger kids went over to assess the threat.
Pete walked up to Damian swinging back and forth, minding his own business, and grabbed one of the chains of the swing that Damian was on forcing him to tumble off into the grass in front of it.
Hurt and surprised, Damian’s first impulse was to cry. As he clamped down on his emotions and stood up to walk over to Pete, his pee-soaked diaper bunched and bulged around his crotch. The top of it pouched outwards, revealing a small amount of smooth skin underneath. It was very near time for him to go home and get a fresh one.
“Whatcha do that for?” asked Damian of Pete as he approached him.
“Just because.” answered Pete with a surly attitude and then decided to expound on his reason a bit more, “I don’t think you should be here, this is our playground. Find somewhere else!”
Damian looked up into the larger boy’s face and started to protest that the playground belonged to everyone when the rest of the group, five in all came up to back up Pete’s claim.
“Get out of here!” one said, “You don’t belong here!” said another, “You’re a big doody-head!” said the youngest, not quite understanding what was going on, but backing up the group anyway.
Damian stared at Pete and came to the slow understanding that if the group wanted him out, there were more of them than there was of him. He clenched his fists in helplessness and put them by his side, “Fine! Whatever! I’m leaving!”
He turned around and stomped off towards the bike rack.
“You get out of here!” yelled Pete to punctuate his prior claim as Damian stalked off. “Yeah, you’re not wanted! Leave!” came out in various ways from the rest of the group. The youngest yelled “doody-head!” to give her support and giggled loudly.
“I say, Peter! That affair was handled in a most effective manner, what?” asked the eldest, a boy of nine named Alfred.
“Oh, indubitably, old chum! I believe that blighter shan’t trouble us ever again!” answered Pete.
“If you wankers are through pattin’ yourselves on the back, we’ve got a serious spot of tag to continue with! Chop, chop!” said the youngest, aged four, named Mary.
Damian’s ride home was slow and sullen. The prior energy and enjoyment of riding his bike had been stolen from him by those mean kids. He arrived home, threw his precious bike violently at the garage wall in anger, and stomped into the house to get a diaper change and a meal.
His mother had cooked the casserole, laid it on the table with a few plates stacked upon it. She left some dinner napkins and silverware next to them.
Sitting in her chair, she stared straight ahead, bereft of movement. Damian didn’t notice at first when he came up to the scene, but the whole house was in a sort of frozen time. The steam from the casserole stood stock still above it and the dust motes in the harsh light of the ancient overhead fluorescent lighting reflected light but were held in their prism-like appearance perfectly still.
A small man detached himself from the shadow on the darker side of the kitchen and introduced himself. “Hello, Damian!” he said as he approached.
Damian, no stranger to the odd situations that come up from “fight or flight” experiences, asked, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Well now, that depends,” (he said “depends!” Heheheh!), “on whether you want to get a bit of revenge or just let situations like what happened in the park go unchallenged, I’ll leave it up to you.”
The dark figure rested his clasped, gloved hands in front of him on top of a heavy iron cane with brass paraphernalia attached in various places on it in anticipation of Damian's response.
We interrupt this part of the tale to take you to the residence of Jett Freelancer, to a scene already in progress…
Jett ran across the carpet as fast as his little two-year-old legs would take him, babies running “nakee” was a common enough occurrence in most households, but that was usually accompanied by the baby giggling, chortling, or laughing uncontrollably. Jett was doing none of those things.
“O-o-h, Je-e-tt!” called Tina playfully from the other room, “Where a-a-are you? I’m gonna catch you, just you wait!”
Jett had to hide! Where? Where could he hide? He spotted the clothes hamper and pushed up its lid, pulled himself up, and jumped inside, closing the lid behind him.
The smell of dirty laundry tickled his nostrils with the pungent scents of feet and armpits slightly muffled by the manly scent of Rite-guard underarm deodorant.
Tina passed by his hiding spot a few moments later. “I know you’re around here somewhere, Jett! When I find you, I’m gonna dress you up all pretty, and we’ll have tea! Won’t that be fun?”
Jett hated it when Tina got into these playful moods. She’d regress to age 6 or 7, put on her tea party finery which consisted of a large foppish hat, a yellow sundress, frilly white ankle socks, and cute little girls’ white dress shoes while a faux pearl necklace on her neck complimented by gaudy plastic bracelets on her wrists completed her outfit.
Of course, she insisted that Jett join her in her tea party. She had caught him once, regressed him to age 5, and dressed him up in a frilly little number that most child tea party goers would die for. He hated it as there were better things to do than listen to a bunch of inane chatter and pretend to be children pretending they were high society types.
He was determined to stay out of her playdate this time around.
The lid to his hideout opened and Jett stared up to find Lisa reaching in to grab him and pull him out. “Hiding in the hamper is one of the oldest tricks in the book, time to face the music, cowboy!”
“Lemme go, Lisa! I don’t want to play a tea party with Tina. We need to find out our next move in Rodney’s chess game that he’s been playing us in!”
“It won’t hurt to have a little downtime, Jett,” she advised him as Tina strolled up in her tea party finery, “besides, Tina has her heart set on this little play date.”
“Oh, yes, Jett! You simply must come! We’ll have real tea and cookies and everything!” she said in her best “Lady Chatterley” persona.
“Fine! Whatever,” grumped Jett, “I do it, but I won’t like it!”
“If that’s the way you feel about it, then how about Lisa and I have tea while you play the napping baby in a basket nearby?” asked Tina as Jett regressed in age a little further.
“No! No! I do it!” protested Jett from an infant’s mouth that was barren of teeth.
Lisa joined in the tea party with Jett and Tina. She played the part of Lady Chatterley’s older sister, Hilda, and he played the part of Oliver.
(He admitted later that he did enjoy the “production” and he only had to scan the entire novel by D. H. Lawrence for a few moments to do so.)
Lisa, age 8, resplendent in the finest of children’s frilly summer dresses, high-heeled dress shoes that were meant to be worn by an adult woman, while sporting a large sun hat and long gloves that also were meant for an adult woman, clattered around Jett’s crib by sliding her too-large shoes across the floor.
The two ladies sat down for their evening tea, while Jett, age 7, dressed in only a pair of long pants stood beside them and played his part as a gruff, uncultured gamekeeper.
Kurla came home to the sounds of the children’s playing. She crept up to spy on the three as Lady Chatterley rebuffed Oliver for his forthrightness.
She decided to stay and watch by pulling up a chair to watch the “production”.
“You kids should become actors! Bravo! I loved that novel!” she enthused after their play date finished and everyone went back to their normal ages.
“Yes, it was fun! I need to get back home to do my schoolwork,” said Lisa as she made her goodbyes and left.
“A most intriguing novel, by any means. Hey, Tina, wanna do the bedchamber routine for real?” asked Jett with a bit of hopefulness in his voice.
“Why not? We’ll be down to help cook dinner in about an hour, Kurla. Would that be okay?”
“Sure, sure. You kids enjoy yourselves,” said Kurla as she left the crib.
(We now return to you our regularly scheduled programming...)
Betty, aged 10, was at the Chuck’s and Ducks, enjoying the kiddie party that was in full swing. She was racking up tickets by bopping moles with a large wooden mallet with expertise.
“Another thing that I missed at this age was the ability to go to a pizza party and have fun while stuffing myself with cheap pizza and getting sick off of root beer!” she said to no one in particular.
The loud “WHAP! WHAP! WHOP!” sounds she was making with the mallet were drowned out by the even louder music.
Bright lights flashed and dazzled the eye while multi-colored spots from a glitter globe danced around the darkened area where she stood.
Bells and sirens went off on the ski-ball run as other children rolled for tickets with heavy plastic balls.
A fresh order of pizza was brought out and put on a waiting heating tray, she made a beeline for it with a plate in hand. She managed to get a few slices and went over to the seating area to enjoy them.
“Ah, this is just heaven!” she said as she bit into the hot, gooey cheese and soft crust of the pizza.
One of the chaperon parents who volunteered to endure the chaos and noise of Chuck’s and Ducks in trade for a set of spa passes noticed the lone girl and remarked to her fellow chaperon, “Janice, do you recognize that kid over there? I don’t.”
Janice looked up groggily from her second large piña colada of the party, glanced at Betty chowing down on her pizza, and said “Nope. Do you have the list?”
“Yep, let me see…” The first chaperon scanned the list and couldn’t match Betty’s face with any of the kids listed there. “We’ll have to ask her,” and the two got up to visit with Betty.
After Betty was questioned and found guilty by the chaperons of crashing a private party, she took her tickets to cash in at the prize booth. “Oh, no you don’t, young lady!” said Janice with a slightly drunken slur to her voice, you weren’t invited, and you don’t get any prizes!”
“Bummer,” said Betty as she began to walk away from the chaperons.
The first chaperon grabbed her by the arm, “Where are you going? We still need to call your parents and have them pick you up. You’re too young to go out walking by yourself!”
“So, I just have to be old enough to leave?” asked Betty innocently.
“Yes, but that’d take a few years that we don’t h…” began Janice as Betty aged quickly to a young lady in her twenties. Her child's dress looked ridiculous on her mature frame and the bottom of it hung just over her navel.
“Is this acceptable?” asked Betty. The first chaperon let go of her with a shocked expression on her face and Betty walked out of Chuck’s and Ducks before they could gather their wits about them.
“I don’t know what they put in those piña coladas, but I’m ordering up 2 more!” declared Janice.
“Make mine two of them as well!” said the first chaperon.
Jett woke up from his night’s slumber, Tina continued to sleep peacefully beside him. He swung his feet off the bed and meant to have them touch the floor, but instead, he ended up launching himself from the bed and landing on the floor hard.
“What is this?” he said as he turned around to find the top of the bed came up to his chest, “Tina! Did you…”
“Hmm, what? Oh hey, Jett! Good morning!” said Tina as she went to pull herself across the bed and found that she was tangled in her oversize pajamas, “Hey! Why am I small? I didn’t go to bed that way?”
“I was going to ask you about that myself,” said Jett, “did you unconsciously regress us during the night?”
“How am I supposed to know that? I wouldn’t have known if I did, right?”
“Can’t argue with that logic, how about aging us back up? I have a physics test this morning.”
“Okay…”, after a few moments of concentration, Tina found that she couldn’t do it.
“It’s not working, Jett. I’m unable to age the two of us up, hang on a second.” she concentrated on a teddy bear and turned its color from brown to purple.
“My chronograph is working fine, but I can’t age us up!”
“But we need to get to school as teenagers, Tina! I have that test and all.” said a worried Jett.
“I’ll adjust our parameters so that a pair of kids walking into a high school looks normal. There!” said Tina as she finished her reality modifications.
Jett and Tina’s pajamas morphed into prepubescent versions of their everyday clothing as Tina concentrated. Jet noticed that his diaper was kid-sized as well.
The two went downstairs, ate breakfast, wished Kurla a good day, and left for school.
After hurrying, the pair just made it in time for the first bell of class, “Wow! Having short legs makes the journey a lot longer!” remarked Tina.
“See you later!” said Jett as he ran to his first class and his ill-fated physics test.
He walked into his class, sat down, and said good morning to Mark, who answered “babbaa bababa da!” and sucked his thumb.
“Mark, you okay over there?”
“bubby ubby bubby bub!” said a happy mark as he made a grimacing face for a second and then smiled with relief as he loaded his diaper.
Looking around, Jett found out that the whole class, from the teacher to the students had all mentally regressed to various ages and were either pooping themselves or finding things to play with.
“What’s going on here?” he asked to no one in particular.
The door to the class opened to admit a teen wearing a biker jacket, biker hat, biker boots, and a big white diaper instead of jeans.
“Hello, Jett! I see you’re admiring my handiwork! What do you think of it? Pretty fucking neat, eh?”
“Damian! Did you do all this?” asked Jett as he waved his hand to indicate the classroom’s occupants.
“Yep! I wanted to do it to you and Tina but I’m not allowed to. So I just settled for making you guys a couple of kids, instead.”
“Who’s not allowing you to do...this?” asked Jett as he looked around the classroom. The smell from some of the mentally regressed occupants was starting to remind him of a large dank sewer.
“I’m not supposed to say,” he said as he walked over to Mark and concentrated. Mark shrank down to the point where his body matched his mental age. His clothing changed to a onesie with a fresh diaper change and Damian picked him up.
“You had to go and leave the gang, Mark. That’s just fucking great. Hope you like diapers ‘cause you’ll be in them for a few years!”
“He does, look at his smile,” noted Jett.
A bit of drool escaped Mark’s mouth as he waved hello to Damian the big smile on his face radiated happiness and joy. Mark was a very happy baby right now.
Mark’s desk morphed into a baby bassinet as Damian put him down in it. He continued to wave his arms and legs happily around as it made the diaper chafe up against his baby parts and felt pleasurable.
“Huh, Mark was another diaper freak all along,” noted Damian.
“By your logic, so are you, Damian, I notice that you’re still wearing and have the ability to change material objects as well as age. Why don't you exchange your diaper for a pair of pants?”
“Good question,” Damian concentrated and morphed his pants into a pair of boot-cut jeans with the cuffs turned up. After a few moments, the crotch area began to puff out, and popped the button on the front of them.
The jeans disappeared again to leave a larger diaper in their place. Damian massaged the front of it and sighed happily.
“I can’t seem to lift the curse that Tina put on me. Besides, it feels right to wear the fucking things.”
He turned to Jett abruptly, “But that doesn’t let you guys off the hook! You’re going to pay for making me look bad in front of my gang!”
“Look around you Damian, your gang’s all acting like babies right now. I don’t think they care.”
“That’s beside the point! You guys made me look bad, and I’m gonna get even! If you don’t do as I say, you’ll have the whole school to worry about. So, you ready for it?”
“Fine. Whatever! What do you want?” asked Jett as his clothing disappeared leaving behind a slick black bondage diaper.
“I wanna see you and Tina do fucking diaper bondage! I’m gonna fucking film it and spread it all over the internet! HAHAHAHA!” said a maniacal Damian.
“Small minds can come up with some pretty lame ideas,” muttered Jett to himself.
(OKAY. This is the disgusting part. Don't read past here if this sort of thing is offensive to you!)
In the AV studio of the school, several instruments of torture were placed at angles that allowed for decent camera angles.
Jett age 16, was currently tied to a large phallus-shaped “Tower of Power” and wore his bondage diaper while sporting a ball gag in his mouth.
Tina, also age 16, was dressed up like a leather queen, she had long black boots, a bustier very revealing leather panties, a dark harlequin mask.
For completeness, she sported a cat-o-nine tails whip made with little plastic balls on the end.
“Now what I want to see is Tina whipping Jett until he screams for mercy! Make it fucking good, guys!”
Tina did her best to get into her persona as a bondage queen, “SO, little man! You think you can take it, eh? How about this?” she started to flay Jett with the plastic-tipped cat-o-nine tails.
“OH! Please, mistress! YES! Yes! Harder! Oh, yes!” said Jett, the plastic balls stung, but other than a few light welts, they didn’t do any real damage.
After a few lashes, the action got stale and Damian called a halt to the scene. “This isn’t working for me. How about some of the good old ‘in and out’ on that bench over there?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for that scene all morning!” exclaimed Tina as she unbound Jett from his post.
Jett laid back on the bench and Tina tied his hands to the posts on both sides while the camera rolled. She pulled the tabs on his diaper and pulled it back to reveal his manliness.
Getting into character, she said, “Oh, so the little man thinks he can best the queen, eh? Let’s see that dick do something useful, eh?”
While the previous whipping she gave earlier didn’t affect her at first, she found herself more than willing to get some action in on their little scene and guided Jett's member into her personal domain.
Remembering her dialogue she spat out, “Oh! Yes! Yes! Give the queen her due, slave! Oh, oh, ohohohohoh!”
“So that’s what it’s like!” thought Damian as he watched the action. His tiny little stiffy demanded some attention so he began to rub his thick diaper against it.
The effect of pleasuring himself took all his attention. Tina finished off Jett and got off then noticed that Damian was furiously masturbating and concentrated on him.
She found an inroad through her hack channel on her chronograph and overrode Damian’s program. The next time he used it…
After coming hard, Damian felt spent and lay where he was like a beached whale. “Take five, guys! That was fucking awesome! We’ll go for another session in a few ... minutes.”
He fell asleep and snored loudly.
“Looks like Damian’s a one-shot wonder,” quipped Jett, “if he ever gets a woman, I truly pity her.”
“Speaking of a one-shot…” said Tina as she grabbed a delicate piece of Jett’s anatomy.
“Ah, what the heck! Untie me first will you?”
(It really gets bad at this part! Standard disclaimer applies, you have been warned!)
Damian woke up from his blissful nap after an hour or so and was ready for more action. “Okay, guys! In this next scene…”
“Hang on a moment, Damian! I’ve got an idea you might like,” said Tina. She got up close and whispered into his ear.
Damian’s face took on a look of disgust, then it took on a look of incredulity, then it took on a look more sinister. “Oh, that’s just pedolicious! Let’s do it!”
“Do what?” asked Jett, dreading what he might hear.
“I get to regress you two while you do it in the act. This will make for a real nasty show!”
“Your depravity knows no limits, Damian” sniffed Jett with a twinge of disgust.
“She suggested it!” said Damian pointing to an innocently smiling Tina, “Now let’s get on with it!”
“Okay, Jett has overcome the bondage queen and he’s now going to mount her from the top! Get on with it you fuckers! I’m gonna regress you just after you start, so don’t be surprised when Jett’s dick gets smaller, alright?”
“Fine, whatever. Are the cameras rolling?”
The two got into their roles, “Oh! You big strong man! I am helpless to resist your marvelous cock! Take me!” said Tina.
“Okay, queen! Now you know that I am the best!” he picked up Tina and put her on the bed.
As he mounted the bed, a very excited Damian began to concentrate. He couldn’t wait to start regressing them, fuck it! He’d do it before they even started!
He shrank from his teens to his tweens. Nothing was happening to them! He concentrated harder and shrank from tween to toddler as his legs gave out causing his butt to hit the floor.
Looking at his hands and at how large the room had become for him, Damian realized he was a baby. He tried to concentrate and age himself back up but it wouldn’t work!
The chronograph on his wrist appeared from invisibility and fell off to the floor. Damian picked it up and innocently played with it. He was just another baby playing with a baby’s toy.
Jett and Tina took the next few hours correcting the mess that Damian had made of the school. It was fortunate that no one was hurt as there were many dangers in a high school that unsupervised child-like minds could find themselves in.
Tina rewound Damian to the point where he had just been transformed into a cherubic appearing seven-year-old that sported a biker jacket and diaper. He would wonder what happened to the missing weeks for a time, but eventually, he got over it.
A little later that day, they found that Damian had regressed his mother to 3 years of age and left her with a daycare center before going to school. They corrected that problem and Damian went back to his life of riding his beloved bicycle to the park.
The group of kids that had tormented Damian was nowhere to be seen and simply ceased to exist. There were no missing children reported either.
“I say chaps! It would appear that our money has cleared from the bank draft provided by Mr. R!”
“That’s jolly good news, Peter! I do hope we get another one like that again someday. Playing a child’s part for a day is always easy money.”
“I just want the money you wankers promised! I had diaper rash after that job for the longest time!”
“Don’t you worry, Mary, the money’s enough to keep you in rash cream for a decade or two, I daresay!”