AR Central Stories

Chapter 7
When Silhouettes Fall

---

Chapter Description: A commissioned story from forever ago.

---

Quiet Desperation

----------

There are times when the truth is so close to one’s face that it appears to be a lie. Or such was the case for one Kirsten Matthews. Though fully aware of herself at all times, Kirsten tended to take the proverbial "fifth" in regards to anything dealing with her husband of four years, James. It wasn’t out of spite, but rather a deep fear that the act of opening her mouth might open up a Pandora’s Box of anger and confusion.

"Picture yourself, in a boat on a river..." Kirsten hummed softly, as she paced the hallways of the Trace-Tribeka Fashion company. The world was like a pastel painting to her, colorful, full of promise, but at the same time lifeless somehow. No matter what devices she used, she could not erase the thought of her husband, screaming at her just the week before: "No, we are not going to have a child! Final answer! No!" If she dwelled any longer than ten seconds on that thought, her world seemed to shatter and tears would start forming in her eyes. It simply wasn’t fair.

It was inevitable. Once she started down this road in her mind, it always led to the same place. James doesn’t want a baby. I guess I just have to live with it.

Kirsten waived at Missy, her long-time best friend at the company, as they passed in the modern-looking hallway.

"How’s life, Kirstey?" she said, smiling.

"It’s fine," Kirsten reflexively lied, as inside, she felt like dying.

"You don’t look so fine."

"Well, I am, ok?"

"Right, right... well, I’ll see you on lunch break, all right? Oh, Ross told me to tell you the photo shoot is canceled tonight," Missy informed.

"Oh. Thanks. Yeah, see you later," Kirsten turned away.

"Well, James," she whispered sarcastically to herself, "I’m all yours tonight... better warm up the TV and Doritos... that is, if you’re even home..."

Naked Lunch

As was their custom, Kirsten and Missy met at a small Italian cafe around the corner from the "salt mine". It was a cool day, one that brought out the best in Manhattan. Missy was fussing with her dark brown locks, obviously dissatisfied with the havoc the light wind was wreaking on her heavily-shampooed hair. Kirsten was, meanwhile on another planet. Her constant sighing almost seemed to be part of the breeze itself.

"I told you, Kirstey, the man is evil," Missy said.

"Evil is a tad strong," injected Kirsten.

"Babe, I know the type. I’ve dated them. They grow on trees. AND they can never be satisfied with one woman. It’s not in their nature," Missy explained, flashing suggestive glances at the manly waiter two tables away.

"It’s just that I envisioned..." she struggled for words, "well, my life... I just--"

"Why don’t you just admit it? James is a rat. Always has been. You just know he’s out fucking some secretary as we speak--"

"Missy! Damn. How can you say that?" Kirsten interrupted.

Missy tossed her hair onto the other shoulder. "Well, am I not right? Look at you. You’ve got a body that could stop traffic on the 405 and he’s hardly even home enough to give you a kiss on the cheek... much less in other strategic locations."

"Well..." Kirtsen attempted to conjure up a comeback, but fell short.

"Yeah, uh huh. I thought so. You know, if you’re interested, I have a--"

"No. I’m not going to let you try out a new truth-telling spell or something on James. Or me."

"Well, so be it. But if you ever want the goods, you know where to call, right?"

Kirsten ignored her best friend’s offer and opted to finally turn her head and take a look at the waiter Missy had been flirting with the entire meal.

"Not too bad," she said, turning back around to face Missy.

"I agree. I’ll bet his butt is like a Craftsman vice."

Kirsten laughed, "So how’s Jennifer?"

"Oh, you know. She’s always been flighty. But man, I wish I had looked as good as she does at 19," Missy continued blinking at the waiter.

"Well, you don’t look much over that yourself, Missy," Kirsten observed.

"Well, family secrets, you know," Missy’s almost-devilish smile crawled across her face.

This One’s Optimistic

The train ride home would be a sad one. Melancholy drifted over Kirsten like a hazy fog, as she sat wondering... Does James even love me anymore? The train jostled back and forth. What’s the use in trying? She could hear the wind blowing outside. I put more into this relationship, and I think I deserve a little better treatment than "hello honey" in the mornings and messages saying he’ll be late every night. The world rushed by her window.

That Kirsten was ravishing was unquestionable. Primed to be a supermodel, her career prospects were sunny and she regularly garnered points and stares from people on the street. An almost unnaturally beautiful creature as herself was accustomed to this brand of treatment, and yet, the man who mattered most (or was supposed to matter the most) seemed to hardly elevate her above the level of housewife. At 27, a tight 120 pounds, and bosoms that would light up any male with half a testicle, Kirsten should be any man’s dream (the operative word there was "should"). But her success had not handed her a perfect life. Granted she lived just outside New York City, was an undeniably successful clothing model, and was in want for little, but her mind simply was not in it. It seemed as if, every day, James became an increasingly higher wall between her and her happiness.

And, as was the usual progression, by the end of the train ride, Kirsten’s depression had turned into more of a deep-seated frustration with James. What would be tonight’s new disappointment....?

The house was calm, quiet. With all its luxeries (including a new widescreen HDTV which James spent more time with than Kirsten), her not-so-terribly humble abode had an empty feeling to it. Slender designer lamps stood like sophisticated guests and everything was far too perfect. As she brewed some coffee and streched out on the leather sofa, Kirsten started to fantisize...

Wouldn’t it be great to have a baby around the house? ... To give it life? ... To fill the house with something other than this dead silence? ... Why does James have to be such a bastard about this? ...

At one time, Kirsten had considered conveniently forgetting her birth control, but, of course, that was back when her and James would actually make love. It wasn’t like that now. Why would he push me away like this? It was a fair question. After all, the mere sight of her usually caused small bulges to grow in men’s pants. Why not her husband’s? It was all very puzzling.

A faint "beep, beep" woke her from her thoughts. For got to check the machine she realized, slowly lifting herself off the couch.

The bedroom was pitch black and Kirsten didn’t even bother with the light; she just moved toward the flashing red light and pressed with button she’d pressed a thousand times before. A voice came from the machine, but it wasn’t a familiar one...

"James... James, about tonight," the female voice said, "I’ll be over at 10, ok? I’m sorry to call here, but I didn’t know what else to do. Make sure you erase this, babe... or she’ll catch on fast. Be there. I love you."

An epiphany is what they call it in church. Writers call it a catharsis. But whatever you term it, one’s life will never be quite the same after one has undergone it. Kirsten felt the anger and distrust from the past four years begin to well up. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room, leaving it a vacuum, and Kirsten was alone in it. Their relationship had been a time bomb and now she knew exactly where she stood.

"All this time! ALL this time!" she screamed, bringing her fist down on the answering machine with a crack. Indeed, all this time, the river had flowed... James had been cheating on her, cheating on HER!

With that, Kirsten began crying as she slid into a corner. Sliding still further, she spread out on the floor. Why, why, why... it was a terrible Moebius Strip in her head. Why, why, why... Their marriage had lasted four years, albeit a rocky four years, but Kirsten still could not process this scenario. Many women spend a considerable amount of time dressing themselves up and desperately trying to keep guys’ interest vis-a-vis physical attraction. It appeared even a goddess such as Kirsten was not immune to the wandering eye of her spouse.

James’ repeated late nights all became clear now. "Just business," he liked to say. That snake Kirtsen mumbled into her hands, remaining slinked and misshapen in the dark bedroom corner.

Revelations

--------------------

Knowing no one else to call, Kirsten tearfully dialed Missy’s home phonenumber, while trying to calm herself. All the same, her voice came out borken and choppy when she heard Missy say Hello on the other end:

"You were right, Missy," were Kirsten’s first words, "you were right."

"Right about what, Kirstey? You sound horrible. What’s happened?" Missy asked, concerned.

"James has been cheating on me."

"Oh, I’m so sorry..."

"No, no. It was my fault. Somehow you saw through him like glass and I... I..." Kirsten stuttered, searching for a reason.

"It’s all right, it’s all right. I understand. And it’s not your fault, you know that right?" Missy added.

"But... I just can’t believe..."

"Believe it."

There was a long, but meaningful silence that followed, as both parties tried to find the words to say. But the wheels in Missy’s head were turning much faster than Kirsten’s, and she quite literally licked her ruby lips at the idea of James’ demise. It was only a matter of which spell to utilize, which spell would be the most humiliating for Kirsten’s philandering husband...

====================================================

Part 2: Of Vice And Men

-----------------------

Within 30 minutes, Missy was on Kirsten’s doorstep, soaked from a storm that began just as their phone conversation had ended. She was not alone, however. Her model-to-be daughter had overheard Missy’s mublings and asked to be a party to James’ demise. This also meant that she had to bring along her baby boy, only one year old and still quite adorable. The outside of Kirsten’s domicile looked impressive, even in the rain. The droplets slid like millions of tiny marbles down the massive glass windows. At that moment, Missy wondered if Kirsten might be one tax bracket above herself even.

"Thanks for coming, Missy," Kirsten answered the door promptly, "I really had no one else to call. Oh, and Jennifer." Kirsten was not expecting an accomplice... or a baby.

Missy just grinned, and made her way into the airy living room. Almost immediately, she was taken over by the same drab feeling of loneliness that had plagued Kirsten every night. Something about the spaciousness of the house, but yet nothing to fill it. Depression seemed to lurk around every corner... but not tonight. Missy unfolded her portable playpen. It bounced into shape as she arched over it and put her baby down tenderly.

Kirsten started to speak, but Missy held her finger up to Kirsten’s lips. "Shhhhh," she soothed, "we’re going to make things all better."

A slightly confused, yet conforted expression moved across Kirsten’s face. Jennifer settled in across the room, humming Baby Did A Bad, Bad Thing.

"Now, I know you’ve been hesitant in the past... about witchcraft. But--" Missy once again stopped Kirsten before the words came out of her mouth. "But this time, I’m sure you’ll agree that prick owes you big time. I’ve seen him turn you from the independent, sassy girl I used to know into a cowering housewife, afraid to even voice her own opinion."

A reluctant nod from Kirsten.

"Now," Missy continued, "James needs to know that he can’t shut you up forever. Nor your desire for a child. And from Day 1, he’s been in the process of reducing you to his playtoy, or whatever he wants. Well, what if I told you we could turn the tables?"

"What do you mean?" Kirsten replied, sitting herself down (knowing Missy’s plans were never "small" plans).

Without a word, Missy raised a vial out of her purse. It contained a fiery red liquid that almost appeared to be smoking or steaming. The expression on Missy’s face plus the vial nearly made her appear like a mad scientist of sorts... or witch doctor... or magician.

"Let’s not kid ourselves, Kirstey. James needs to be punished. And not in an ordinary way, mind you. We need to be creative, solve several problems at once, eh?" she handed the mysterious vial to Kirsten. "Most psychologists agree that a man’s development is really shaped by the first few years of his life. And since James has turned out to be, shall we say, less than desirable, why don’t we take away a few things he’s been taking for granted?"

Kirsten moved a little closer to the edge of the couch in anticipation.

"First off, we know he’s been taking you for granted. But his ability to sweet talk other women into bed is something else he might be at a loss without, eh? You want to know what that vial can do?" Missy raised one eyebrow dramatically.

Gazing at the electric red substance, Kirsten looked into Missy’s eyes and said, "yes".

Lunging nearly face to face with her best friend, Missy’s smile grew large. "It can make James young again."

"How young?"

"However young you would prefer."

"You mean, a little boy?"

"Easily."

"A kindergartener?"

"Certainly."

"You mean," Kirsten’s pupils grew wide, "just a baby?"

"Anything you want."

A determined expression ran across Kirsten’s face, as she saw Jennifer nearly lick her lips. Missy’s son gurgled, and Kirtsen’s attention turned to the tiny playpen, all the while thinking James could be that young? Somehow the helpless look on its little chubby face helped Kirsten suspend her immediate disbelief.

The Drink

"Preparation," said Missy, sounding rather Machiavellian, "is the key to pulling this off. James needs to be completely oblivious to our plans."

"How do we get him to drink the liquid?" Kirstey blinked.

"Very simple. All we need to do is empty a measured amount of the vial into a soft drink or whatever he likes to drink when he comes home..."

"Well, that would most likely be a beer, and he has a specific little bottle he likes it out of," Kirstey shrugged her shoulders.

In the kitchen, Missy proceeded to carefully mix the contents of the tiny vial with a liberal portion of Heinekin. This would be a beer James wouldn’t soon forget. Missy decided that 5 drops should be enough to reduce James to a "very controllable age," as Missy termed it. An incantation would also need to be chanted after his monumental sip of beer.

"This won’t hurt him, will it?" Kirstey harbored a few feelings for James (but only out of her humanitarian side), and held strong to her belief that it was always wrong to physically harm another human being.

"Oh no, Kirstey, in fact, he should feel completely normal... except of course for the fact that he’s turning back into a child," chuckled Missy, as she finished her little regression recipe.

Kirsten, though trusting of Missy, still remained, at heart, skeptical that this scheme would come to fruition. After all, the idea of someone instantly shrinking to a younger age is not one scientists even bother to ponder. But what if it does work? she mused, as she curiously teased a strand of her golden hair. What if, by the evening, she could very well have a baby!? Kirsten’s heart started to beat a hair faster at the thought of James, crawling around the floor in diapers. Please, please...

Jennifer finally entered the conversation, saying, "So Mom how long will this take?"

"After the spell, it’s only a minute or so... and he’ll be balling on the floor."

In My Midnight Regressions

Preparations for James return were set, for the most part, and Kirsten found it difficult to make conversation about anything else but her husband’s impending confrontation and subsequent return to his youth. As the night wore on, she became more anxious and more faithful that Missy indeed knew what she was talking about. That, and she wondered why Jennifer seemed so eager to see this unfold...

"Gee, Missy. It seems like you’ve, um, had a lot of practice. I mean experience. How many people have you done this to?" Kirsten gave Missy a sheepish look.

"Let’s just say, a few," Missy raised her left eyebrow, wickedly. "When do you expect James home?" (Missy always stressed that name, "James," as if she were a Gospel Hour preacher speaking of none other than Satan himself.)

"I really have no clue. His message was vague, as usual. I find he usually stumbles in about one or two... depending on how much and what kind of beer he’s been drinking."

"Or women he’s been banging," Missy added.

Jen laughed.

"Do you have to keep reminding me?" Kirsten was just getting over her initial stage of shock to her nervous system.

"Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I keep forgetting--"

"Well, my whole life feels like it just went down the shit river in a Balsa wood kayak, so I’d appreciate it if we just kept to the matters at hand."

"Fair enough, fair enough," Missy agreed, adding the spiked Heinekin to the already-beer-filled refridgerator. "Let’s have a drink to celebrate!"

Though Kirsten wasn’t positive she felt like celebrating, she nodded her head in agreement. "Just make sure we don’t drink out of you-know-what," she cautioned. Boy Kirsten pondered if this stuff really works, what would James think coming home to two baby girls crawling around?

"Don’t worry, babe, we’re most certainly keeping our adulthood. Your husband, however, is going to wish he still had his," Missy chuckled, delighted with the prospect of watching that scumwad’s shocked expression as he starts to lose his facial hair, and a few feet in height, and then end up a helpless child... ah, sweet justice Missy mused maniacally.

The hands of the decorator clock in the living room moved slowly towards 2 AM. Missy and Kirsten sat motionless, waiting for the sound of a slamming car door to signal the outset of their plan. After a painfully long 15 minutes, Kirsten perked up a bit, hearing the familiar clang of James’ 40th Anniversary ZR-1 Corvette door (an item afforded to James via Kirsten’s success as model, not to his own business dealings...).

His entrance was according to custom. Slamming the door. Hardly looking at his gorgeous wife. Asking for a beer. What an asshole Jennifer almost audibly muttered.

"Honey, have you seen the paper?" James barked, soaking wet from the rainstorm. He looked up. "And why are Missy and Jennifer in the living room??"

"Um, hi," he said uncomfortably, giving a little wink to Jennifer as he moved toward the couch. He then eyed a baby sitting in a playpen in the center of the living room, with a frilly diaper bag leaning against it. A concerned look crossed his face.

"Who’s baby?" he asked callously.

"Oh, he’s mine," Missy said.

"It’s on the coffee table," Kirsten answered, trying deperately not to break the charade. "I asked them over... I... just needed company." She could hear the sound of James’ feet being propped up on the coffee table and a long sigh, supposedly because of his "hard day" at work. I know something was hard... Kirsten nearly said aloud. "Would you like a beer?" she inserted as plainly as she could.

"Sure, babe, bring it on in," James was the picture of perfect relaxation, not having any slight clue what awaited him inside that bottle. He held the paper such that he could not see Missy and Jennifer staring directly at him. But he could feel it.

"Here you go," Kirsten said, as if a waitress, as she placed the Heinekin down on a coaster.

James did not respond. As usual.

"Drink up, they’re nice and cold," Kirsten added, hoping to speed the process. "You look tired."

"Uh, thanks. I’m trying to read the paper though."

"Oh, right, right."

James took a healthy swig, and leaned back on the couch. But he wasn’t truly comfortable, and felt like getting out of his wet clothes. So, he stood up, grabbed the Heinekin, and headed for their bedroom. Under her breath, Missy started the chant. The changes would take effect a minute or two after he drank the contents, so no changes were yet to be seen.

As James shut the door to the bedroom, Jennifer immediately got up and put her ear to the bedroom door.

"Nothing’s happening yet," Kirsten was breathing heavily. Mostly with a (pardon the pun) childlike excitement.

"It takes a moment. Why don’t you go crack the door and peek in?" Missy urged.

Kirsten followed the order and opened the bedroom door ever so slightly. James was undressing, undoubtedly expecting to once again engage in his thrilling routine of putting on his pajamas and passing out on the couch again. Kirsten noticed a difference though. And within moments, James was aware that something was not right with the world... or with him rather.

Missy pushed the door open like a SWAT team member. Kirsten, Missy, and Jennifer stood stolid like Charlie’s Angels, with their hands on their hips. James was only clothed in a set of pajama pants, and was staring intently at his chest, seeing the tiny hairs retract.

"What the hell is happening to me?? Why is that bitch here? What the fuck is this??" he screamed, taking note of the fact that his voice was a little more tinny and sounded like he was back in high school. His pajama pants were sagging unmercifully, and his watch slid to the very end of his arm, almost off his hand completely.

Missy let our a hardy laugh as she guessed James’ age was around 16, maybe 15. Scrawnyness had taken over his physique for the most part, leaving rather thin, girlish arms and a hairless chest. Peach fuzz was growing on his chin, where his former stiff whiskers had once resided. Jennifer couldn’t help but comment:

"Hey Jimmy, nice freckles," she shouted.

"This isn’t fucking funny!!!" he screeched, as his face turned red.

The already comically loose blue pajama pants slipped effortlessly to the floor, and James scrambled like an animal to cover his dwindling manhood. Pubic hair was a thing of the past as James slipped back to his pre-pubescence. Still holding the bottle in his shrinking hands, James looked up with an overwhelming sense of fear. This was doomsday.

Now several feet shorter than his wife of four years, he ran his hands over his body in disbelief. It was now smooth. Innocent. And getting pudgy as the seconds passed. In no fewer than 30 seconds, his body had had 16 years erased from it. At 10 years of age, James was a shell of his former impressive self. He appeared to be fattening up as he began his descent into certain childhood. No longer a man by any standard, James’ penis shrunk to its boyhood size and left no traces of maturity behind. His futile attempts at hiding it were only increasing the comedy of the whole scene.

"STOP THIS!!!" the boy screamed, still feverishly trying to obscure his unimpressive genitals. He then ran to the door, where he realized he now had to crane his head to view his wife, who was a giant. The view of her breasts from the underside simply made all it the more intimidating. His puffy cheeks started to glow pink.

"No can do."

His features ballooned out as he rentered the days of his earlier childhood. Kirsten was thrilled to watch the transformation. Her jaw nearly dropped as she witnessed her former lover fade back into his youth. And the youthening continued relentlessly, all happening in a matter of seconds. By all accounts, James appeared no more than four or five years old as he turned to them and glared up with a face of pure, undiluted amazement.

His penis had shrunk to nothing but an embarrassment, hardly capable of impressing anyone with its power. James’ red cheeks started to flow with tears, not unlike a child of his age would normally do. The world was suddenly scary for little James.

In the living room, he could hear Missy’s baby cry, and began to shiver with the notion of himself being reduced to the same age as that teary baby. Nevertheless, a baby he was becoming. Vainly, he climbed onto the bed, trying look the three scary women in the eye. It was chore, but being completely naked, there was little to hold him back. His aging continued to reverse at a faster and faster rate.

"He looks about two and a half now, Kirsten. It won’t be much longer," Missy explained, as James clutched the headboard, trying to steady himself which was proving to be increasingly difficult. Kirsten, though still partially disbelieving the show before her eyes, still could not help but let out a chuckle at the sight of James’ little tush. The painfully worried expression on James’ face made the scene all the more entertaining.

"I’d say he’s two years old now," Missy said as she hurriedly made a small changing table on the closest surface. "Better bring him over here."

"Noooooooooooooo-ahhhhhhhhhhhh," the toddler yelled, his voice now transformed into the same piercing cry as the one year old in the next room. Kirsten, though shocked that Missy had truly done it, walked over to her still youthening husband and picked him up, just as she would any child. His toes squirming madly about, she hauled James to the next room and a pre-made changing table, his naked rear end hanging out for all the world to see... but mostly Missy and Jennifer.

As if stuck with a vaccine shot, James balled like crazy, shifting his weight (now reduced to a rather inconsequential number) and squirming. But Kirsten easily controlled him in her newly powerful arms. Petrified at what had happened to him, James froze as she placed him on the table. Why is she smiling like that??

Missy stopped laughing for a moment and turned her eyes to James’s frightened, quivering little body.

"Well James, I don’t know what’s smaller... your brain or your dick."

Diapers, wipes, blankets, and Johnson&Johnson baby power surrounded him, and he once again tried to vocalize his rage, but only garbled syllables emerged. Jennifer quickly rammed a pacifier in his spit-filled mouth.

"Now, now, James, we need to get some Pampers on you so you can meet your new friend in the living room." She bent down further and whispered into James’ ear... "You’ve been coming on to me for years now, you little stud, and I thought you should know I’d love to go out with you sometime... if you weren’t, of course, so much younger than me."

 

---