Chapter Description: My mentor is suggesting me to draw from the hero life, since I have accomplished every possible goal. But I'm not willing to hesitate my privilege of transforming into a boy. This time I was heading for new horizons and face stronger challenges, but what I didn't know is that things were not going to work right.
Hello, I’m Julie again. I want to tell you, Diary, that I’ve been fighting crime for four months, and since my first appearance the crimes have reduced drastically in the city. The diapered boy is here, and criminal fears every shadow they see passing.
The diapered boy is solid popular between girls and boys equal, but I really don’t care about that. I’m only happy for having the chance of training in gymnastics, performing perfect acrobats, and of course, kicking criminal butts.
Even I know this new body of mine is only lend, I’ve been using it to fight as a noble warrior, and that pride and honor is all mine. Shikhandi constantly appears in my dreams to tell me how proud of me he is, and that he hopes I continue using my powers for good.
A diapered silhouette rises from the building rooftop; he is a clever and brave boy, wearing in his bum his magic cape. This hero moves with elegance and agility, and the crime is not safe when he appears. Tee-hee ^___^ I actually drew that dialogue from a comic book that came to the magazine store one week ago; and it ran out as fast as it came out to sell. I can’t believe the presence of my masculine alter ego have had this much relevance and popularity.
Some days ago, Shikhandi revealed me that I had a rival using my same powers. I couldn’t believe it. Were more than one Shikhandi figurines, perhaps? Shikhandi told me that once another warrior have borrowed the power when I was not using it.
Who could it be?! I checked my secret hiding for the diaper and everything was in perfect conditions. Juanita? No; I was sure he hadn’t come to bother again. Or maybe... Karla...? Shikhandi, the great hero, told me that it had been a fierce warrior, even stronger than me, and he told me too that I had done much for my people. Was he thinking that I should retire??
The sole idea was dreadful to me. The next night, when I was jumping between rooftops with perfect balance, feeling the invigorating cold wind caressing my manly body, and my heart beating strong and powerful, I knew I couldn’t resign soon. Being a boy was the greatest thing had happened to me ever; and I had been an honorable warrior. I was not willing to give up, because I actually deserved all those powers.
So, I decided taking my task of fighting crime one step further. I traveled to the most dangerous streets of my city. The idea was scary, since a lot of crimes were still being regularly committed in those zones; they were like an outlaw nation. But I felt impelled to do that; I knew those places were commonly isolated, and maybe their residents had not heard anything about me. I was confident that my presence and heroic acts will give them a little sunshine of hope. First days I, like every night, put my diaper on, transformed into the Diapered Hero and went to patrol.
I started getting acquainting to their streets; they were sad places, covered on poverty, crime and lack of chances. And they were very dangerous; I really didn’t know what to expect.
My second night, I found a bunch of delinquents harassing a poor man; they were armed with metal sticks, and ambushed him against a wall. As quick as I could, I jumped down the building and landed a flying kick on the leader’s cheek; he fell to the ground heavily, while the others were too surprised to react. I sweep their feet with ground kicks and they fell down and lost their weapons, which I kicked out of their reach. By that moment, the victim had run away to a safe place; I did the same, vanishing inside a dark street. I had done right, but I was not still confident in introducing me to those street criminals.
Last night, I had went to do homework with a friend that lives in a far away zone, almost as poor as the streets I had visited before, but considerably less dangerous. I felt bad about my friend for living in those poor conditions, but as I knew she was a very good student that put her heart in everything she did, I was almost sure that she was going to overcome her situation and becoming a successful and good person.
We had finished so late, and at 8.30 p.m. I took the metrobus to come back home. I had not much fear since I brought with me few valuable possessions, and as always I had brought my magical diaper in my backpack, for every emergency.
When we passed for a more dangerous zone, I was almost alone in the cab, and when I looked through the mirror, I could see, far away, a girl escaping from some thugs. I nearly went mute when I contemplated how they reached her, grabbing her by her blouse, and cornered her against a corridor. In that moment, the metrobus made a stop.
I knew what exactly doing; I took the diaper out of my backpack and went out of the bus, as the door opened; in my hurry, I forgot my backpack on the seat. The thugs were some yards away, so I took my clothes off, dropping them in the street, as I ran to help her. Fortunately I had light clothes: a skirt, top and sandals, so it was so easy for me taking them off.
The girl was sitting on the floor, trying to defend herself when my pink panties fell to the ground; and when one thug lifted her up by her hair, I was difficulty adjusting my diaper on as I almost had reach them.
One of the thugs grappled the girl by her back, bending her arm to her back, while the others laughed excited; the girl was crying filled with panic. I felt the power running by my veins, and I shouted at them:
“Hey you, scum! Take your dirty hands off the girl!”
The thugs turned to me, surprised, and I leaped forward throwing a flying kick to them. I went white in horror when I could see my toenail, still painted in red, shining under the moonlight. In that very moment, I landed on the street in my butt, although the fall had been muffled by the diaper. Locks of my long brown hair obstructed my sight, and I started to sweat cold. What had happened?? With my diaper on, I used to be the best athlete in the world. What was going wrong?!
The thugs looked me from above, funny. They were ugly and dirty, as I had expected, and their lustful glare made me feel I was doomed.
“Look at this, Harry”, said one of them, “what pretty gift God brought us”.
The man who was holding the girl released her, and she ran away to a safe place. Harry pulled me up by my hair, forcing me to kneel. I yelled.
“I don’t- fear you!”, I said, recalling my heroic spirit, even I was chilling in horror.
The thugs laughed again, with the one named Harry pulling my hair down, and another one sneaking behind me.
“Ha ha, nice creature”, said the guy that was behind me, “I think I’d enjoy having a girlfriend as her”. He held me by my wrists, and I tried to fight back.
The one that looked like the leader stood on front of me, deciphering my features under the moonlight. Harry held my hair down and started caressing my waist rudely. Finally, the leader announced:
“Have you noticed how is she dressing”, said, “only a diaper? She must be a maniac waiting for us to rape her”.
The sole word almost made me break down, and tears came to my eyes, as I tried to resist that horrible man touching.
“She looks so sexy for being a bitch from this place”, said the leader, “I think she’s a foreigner or something. Maybe a rich girl”. Harry’s hand approached to my breasts, massaging them lustfully; I was doomed.
“Great! kidnapping her will be great!”, said the guy that was holding me by my hands. “We’ll be everybody rich!”. Harry stopped touching me for a while, waiting for the boss say something.
“Yeah”, the leader said “OK with the kidnapping. But I say we have some fun with her before putting a price”.
Harry laughed hysteric, in my face.
“Nice-nice-nice-man!! I’m fucking aroused by these foxy!”. His touching increased, in frenzy, and I felt I wouldn’t be able to resist more time without fainting.
I just wanted to disappear. Maybe I was nothing but a bad girl. Maybe I should have stayed in my quiet life, being nothing more than a rich girl. I was crying, expecting for a dark destiny to engulf me. I was sorry for my sister, my mother and grandma. I didn’t want to make anyone suffer. Maybe being a hero was impossible, and I had taken by my own the way for my doom.
But in that moment, suddenly I felt a golden shine coming down to me, and the pristine voice of Shikhandi consoled me again: “Don’t fear, noble warrior. Heroism always has its reward. Heroes will be always by your side. And good will triumph over bane.”
I was trapped between those three guys, when a thunderous stomping sounded near. The thugs turned to see, stopping harassing me for a moment (but still grappling me), and the stomp could be heard again, this time stronger. And then, once again. They were like steps, heading to us. Was Shikhandi himself going to save me?? I felt a hope in somebody to rescue me.
The thugs started to tremble as they saw a tall silhouette projected on the wall. They expected, still holding me, but stressed, preparing to defend themselves, but as the silhouette came to the front, it gradually went short and shorter... until we all could look what it was:
A little, inoffensive boy, about 4’ tall, wearing only a white brief, stood on front of the thugs, looking at them in the eyes, serious and intriguing. Judging by his physique, he was 7 or 8 years old.
The thugs were so freaked by looking at the little boy: he has white pinkish skin, honey eyes and light brown hair, and was cute in extreme. What the hell was he doing there?! Suddenly, the boy performed a motion, slowly lifting his arm, pointing at them with her index finger.
“You better let her go”, he said, in a calm high-pitched voice, without expressing big emotion.
The thugs stood still for two seconds, and after that they almost die in laughter. Gaining confidence, the thugs stood grappling me, looking at the boy without being impressed. The leader asked:
And in that very same moment, his jab closed suddenly, biting his tongue; the leader’s face distorted for a moment and he quickly rose from the floor at almost half meter. It had been as quick that he couldn’t react; the boy had performed a shoryuuken, jumping up and landing a crude punch on the leader’s mouth. And judging by the results, it was not a normal boy at all.
The leader landed on his back, seriously hurt and rolling in pain. The other thug’s eyes were wide open, and the boy continued his attack, quickly grappling one by his arm, and projecting him to the ground with a judo move. The thug slammed in the ground with a hard sound, losing all his breath and fainting.
Harry walked back slowly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, and menacing me with a knife in my neck. Tears flowed again to my eyes, even I was confident in Shikhandi would save me.
“Go away... leave me alone!”, Harry said, trembling, “or I will kill her in this right moment!”.
The boy followed Harry by walking at his same speed, without losing calm, and soon the man almost got crazy by the look of those quiet, big, honey eyes.
Harry was coming to a dead end, and when he turned back to see for a tenth of second, a hard punch landed on his crotch. He dropped the dagger immediately, and I turned round just to see how his face distorted, with his eyes wide open, paralyzed in an expression of sudden pain. Harry fell down, frozen in pain, and stopped moving.
I started to cry again, breathing hastily, trying to recover from the almost lethal experience. I was just about to die... or not? Shikhandi had come to my rescue just at the right moment. I couldn’t do anything; I was what I really was: a 16-years-old beautiful top-less girl, wearing a big boy diaper, standing in barefoot in a dangerous dark alley at a late night hour.
Was that right...? Was all this a joke...? A plan...?
When I started thinking more clearly, the boy approached to me. I looked at him in the eyes, still scared for the experience. And he smiled, with cute dimples forming in his puffy cheeks. Just by looking at his shiny expression, and relying in his strength, I went calm quickly. Only a minute later, I stood in the alley, smiling at him, looking at his face deeply grateful.
“Shikh...?”, I wanted to ask. But in that moment the boy giggled, smiling big, and rose his arms to me.
“No, sister...”, he said, funny, waiting by my reaction. “Am I strong?”, asked, performing a manly pose.
I was surprised... “... !! ... Karla...?”, I asked.
“You can call me...”, the boy said... “Wonder Boy”.
And he jumped inside my arms. I hugged him tight (or her? whatever) and he did the same. We twisted many times, with me lifting him. We laughed a lot and almost cried in emotion. We had never been as happy for being together again.
Questions could wait for the next morning. I carried the boy in my arms and by foot we arrived home; fortunately, nobody saw us.
That night I let Karla “The Wonder Boy” sleep with me in my bed, hugging each other. And together, we sailed away to a wonderful dream...
[size=4]TO BE CONTINUED[/size]
Stories of Age/Time Transformation