The Coach

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Sep 18, 2009


Chapter 8
In the Nursery


Chapter Description: The fate of Gabe and his team-mates is revealed


By the time the car pulled into the parking lot at the school Gabe was feeling much more aware and much more nervous. He wasn’t meant to be dressed like this! He was in public in pull-ups and it was now desperately clear to him that this was totally unacceptable for a teenager. He clearly recalled thinking that he was just a little boy and being satisfied with that not an hour ago. Yet now it was as if a wall in his mind had been broken down and he was recalling how old he really was.

“Okay boys here we are. Let’s get the two of you down to the locker room to get ready,” Mom announced cheerfully as she opened the back door and began to undo Jackson’s seat-belt first.

First fear, then outright panic washed over Gabe. He was about to be seen by the entire team, all his friends, dressed like this! It was too much and soon Gabe felt a new embarrassment manifesting itself. He felt the warm liquid surrounding his loins quickly as he wet himself. His mom had lifted Jackson out of the car now and leaned back in to undo him. She saw Gabe’s shocked look and followed his gaze downward. His stars were disappearing. She shook her head and tutted, “Oh dear Gabe. Why didn’t you tell mommy you needed to potty honey?”

Gabe was speechless. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Mom turned to Dad, “Honey I didn’t bring any extra pull-ups for Gabe, we’ll have to go home and get him changed. Why don’t you take Jackson in now and we’ll be right back, okay?”

“Sure dear,” Dad replied, pecking her on the cheek and taking Jackson’s hand. “C’mon little guy,” he beckoned.

Gabe watched Jackson toddling across the pavement partly relieved not to be following him, but at the same time horrified by the reason he wasn’t going in to. Gabe remained silent on the ride home. He stayed in the car while Mom got more pull-ups. A big part of him wanted to get up and run away. But Mom had left the stereo on while she was in the house and the gentle nursery rhymes seemed to make him feel so mellow and lethargic. He didn’t have the will to get out of the car. And he couldn’t seem to formulate a plan for what to do even if he could escape the car. His muddled brain simply wasn’t up to the task of such complex thought anymore.

Mom returned and stood Gabe in the driveway, yanking down his pull-ups and making him step out of them. Gabe was awfully aware that he was standing exposed in the driveway in full view of the street and neighboring houses. But no cars were passing and he prayed no neighbor was looking out their window this moment. For a moment Gabe tried to cover himself up, but Mom batted his hands away. “Don’t fidget sweetie, hold still and be a good boy for mommy” she directed.

Gabe wanted to fight but the need to be a good boy was too strong, so he stood there in all his naked glory certain he was turning red as a tomato. The T-shirt he wore was far too short to cover anything and even worse Gabe was suddenly aware that wearing a Big Bird T-shirt was in no way a big boy thing to do. The longer he was out of the car and away from the music, the more clear his mind became and the more embarrassed he grew. He was actually relieved when mom told him to step into a new pair of pull-ups and then slipped them up his legs, finally giving him a shred of privacy.

“Okay sweetie-pie, back in the car,” Mom directed, grabbing Gabe under his armpits and attempting to lift him into the car.

“Oh my you’re getting big honey,” Mom exclaimed, straining to lift the teenager.

Giving up she finally said, “Please climb in for Mommy Gabe.”

Gabe did as he was told, sitting back in his seat and allowing her to buckle his seat belt on him. She shut the door and got back in the driver seat, starting the car. The music resumed for a moment but then something unexpected happened to save Gabe from drifting back into la-la land with the soothing tunes. “Oh let’s have some jazz for once,” Mom declared, switching to CD off and turning on the radio.

The ride back without the music or Mom cooing at him allowed Gabe more time to recover his wits. By the time the car pulled back up to the stadium Gabe was feeling almost normal again. Before Mom had the chance to stop him Gabe undid his seat-belt and threw his door open, sprinting barefoot across the pavement into the stadium. He could hear Mom frantically yelling after him, but he ignored her. Something was very wrong at his house, with his family and he needed to find help now. Coach would know what to do. But first he needed to get out of these baby clothes, so the locker room would be his first stop.

Oh great, he thought to himself, picturing what it would be like before a big game: players everywhere, people yelling, stuff flying... He didn’t have time for this. He had to clear his head; he had to sort out his life. Something was wrong...

Gabe raced down the hallway, his feet slapping on the linoleum and the sound echoing around him. At the end of the hall he found his way blocked by a large young man, one of his team-mates.

“Excuse me,” Gabe said, trying to slide past a large guy who was blocking his way to the locker room. He vaguely recognized the teen as one of their tight-ends, but it was hard to place him...

And then the guy turned around, and a name floated up from his memory.

“Hey, Brett” he said to his teammate. But then as he got a first real look at him, Gabe’s friendly smile faltered.

For one, Brett looked completely out of it. He had responded to Gabe’s voice by turning around, but he didn’t seem to want to make conversation...instead, he just sort of stared blankly, laughing a bit to himself. At a cursory glance, it all seemed a little normal...a bit like a teenager high on weed...but Gabe was pretty close, and the longer he looked at Brett, the more clear it became that no one was home upstairs...they’d just left the lights on.

And yet that wasn’t the only weird thing: Brett...who was as masculine (and therefore as fiercely protective of himself in the locker room when it came time to strip down for showers or whatnot) as any of them...stood in nothing but his underwear. Faintly Gabe recognized them as white briefs, and the gray waistband as Hanes, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around why exactly a big jock like Brett was standing looking a little lost in the middle of a locker room he’d been in 1,000 times in underwear he’d vocally despised.

“This is so weird,” Gabe said to himself. Looking once more at Brett, who now seemed to be trying to draw on the wall with a pen he’d found in his pocket. For the first time it dawned on Gabe that perhaps he and Jackson weren’t the only ones being messed with. Suddenly Gabe felt less embarrassed about being dressed in t-shirt and baby pull-ups.

Realising he wouldn’t be getting any explanations out of the vacant-eyed Brett, Gabe kept walking towards the locker room. As he pushed through the double door into it he found, to his surprise, the room was empty. There were no young men slapping each other with towels, no pep talk being given, no sign of anyone at all.

Gabe decided he’s better take advantage of this privacy and start getting changed right there and fast, but he had barely gotten to his locker when noises from the showers caught his attention. Gabe wasn’t sure what it was, it sounded a bit like a small child giggling, and then other high pitched voices joined in. Gabe couldn’t resist investigating the sounds. Slowly he made his way into the shower room. Just as before...though he’d be hard-pressed to remember since he had been (unwittingly) under Coach’s influence...Gabriel now came upon a very strange seen in the showers:

Four players were grouped in a loose semi-circle. Gabe recognized Mack among them, and could tell the other three were juniors. Their behavior immediately stood out...they were each squatting down on the tile, splashing in the water that pouring from a shower head above them...but so did their appearance.

Like Brett, they all seemed...lost. As Gabe walked up to them for a closer look, he noticed Mack was openly drooling and seemed the worse off of the group: he didn’t even respond to anything happening before his eyes...he just stared off into space and flicked his feet and hands occasionally. The other three players seemed a little more advanced, but that wasn’t saying much. As he’d come closer, Gabe had heard one of them speak, and if that was any indication, they were all acting like toddlers. Furthermore, none of them was wearing anything more mature than a pair of Batman & Robin underoos, and two of them were even wearing Pull-Ups, just like Gabe.

The sight of these teenage boys, well muscled and not too long ago joking and wrestling around with their friends, in nothing tighty-whities or diapers (or something close to it) truly frightened Gabe...it made his head a little fuzzy to try and take it all in. It was now abundantly clear to him that whatever was happening to him had also been happening to the rest of the team. Gabe could see that there was nothing he could do for the four young men before him. Their eyes were glazed over with incomprehension, it was too late for them.

Gabe hurried out of the showers into training room beyond. He had to find Coach now, his heart was pounding so hard he could feel his pulse in his fingers. Gabe rushed thru the door to the training room and froze. The weight-lifting equipment, the treadmills, the barbells, they were all gone. The room was unrecognizable to Gabe. This was not a room one expected to find in a high school sports center. The walls were painted a gentle blue hue, images of fairies and teddy bears and Disney characters painted here and there. The carpet was new, it was thick and soft under Gabe’s bare soles. On the far end of the room several oversized cribs sat in a row. A large changing table sat against one wall and hanging from the ceiling in the middle was a baby’s bouncy seat, suspended to just allow a teenage sized boy’s toes just to brush the carpet. Soft toys and stuffed animals were strewn here and there across the floor. And yet it was not the furniture that made Gabe freeze in his tracks, made him forget his mission. It was the occupants that did that.

Gabe had found why no one was in the locker room, the whole team was right here. Here in this...this, playroom. Several were playing on their hands and knees on the floor, dressed in nothing but pull-ups or big puffy whit diapers. Gabe recognized the young coach, Christian, sitting on his diapered bum chewing on a the end of a blue plastic toy telephone, clapping his feet together and staring vacantly at the wall. Beside him was Gabe’s team-mate Jim, one of the linebackers. The massive young man was now dressed in a cartoon print pull-up and short red Spiderman t-shirt that failed to cover his toned tummy. His blonde hair was messy and sticking up here and there, his chin and cheeks stained with peanut-butter and marshmallow. Jim was busily suckling away at a red pacifier with an image of Mickey Mouse on the end and banging a toy airplane into the carpet repeatedly, apparently amused by the banging sound it made.

Just beyond Jim was an even more pathetic sight. It was Pat, the gregarious wide receiver who was the life of all their parties. Pat always had a couple girls on his arms and was known for his charm all over school. He often made jokes about how well-endowed he was and if Gabe wanted to know if they were true, he could have easily checked now as Pat was buck naked. What had likely been his diaper was laying discarded on the floor nearby. Pat was creeping on the floor on his tummy, bare bum in the air, legs jerking awkwardly. Apparently he was unable even to crawl. All his movements were spastic and uncontrolled, his head was up and was bobbing and twisting back and forth. His mouth was agape, a strand of drool hanging from his wet chin all the way to the floor. And his eyes were wide and totally empty.

Gabe looked about for Jackson, hoping his best friend on the team wasn’t here, wasn’t reduced to this. He recalled how badly off the boy had been an hour ago, using the potty in front of everyone, toddling around in nothing but pull-ups. Yet Gabe had been nearly as bad off and now he’d recovered. Perhaps Jackson has escaped too. Gabe didn’t see his friend here and that gave him a modicum of hope. There was only one other place to check for Jackson now, the cribs.

As Gabe made his way carefully across the playroom he recognised the young man seated in the bouncy chair. It was the young coach, Carter. Gabe was a bit surprised to see so many of the coaches reduced to this too. He wondered if Coach Taylor was laying in one of those cribs, had some other team sabotaged them this way? Gabe paused and looked Carter over. The man was staring curiously at Gabe, but it was clear that he didn’t recognize the teen. Carter was dressed in what appeared to be a fuzzy green and white striped onesie. A bulky diaper was visible underneath it. He bounced eagerly in the seat, his legs bowed and feet dangling limp in a way that told Gabe that Carter would not have been able to stand, let alone walk, without being in this seat. The former coach babbled nonsense at Gabe, “Baadaa...ooohgeee...daaa,” and drooled all over himself.

Gabe left the former coach to his cheerful idiotic babbling and made his way to the cribs. The first two he checked held Rick, another linebacker, and Tyler, the other young coach. Each was sleeping peacefully with a thumb in their mouths. The third crib Gabe reached, however, was the one he’d been looking for. Jackson was lying on his back in the crib, his legs propped up in the air resting on either rail. His pull-up had been replaced by a thick diaper and it was all that he wore. Unlike the other two, Jackson was awake and he blinked and smiled up at Gabe.

“Jackson,” Gabe whispered, “we gotta get you outta here. Do you know where you are?”

Gabe hoped desperately that something of his friend was still in there, behind those wide glassy eyes. Something that would recognize Gabe’s voice and bring Jackson back from his trip to blissful idiocy. Jackson gaped at Gabe, sticking out his tongue and crowing, “Baaaa...ooooh.”

Gabe’s spirits dropped at the sound of Jackson’s incoherent babbling. “C’mon dude! Focus, you gotta remember me! Try to think Jackson!” Gabe urged, trying to get through to the babified teen.

Jackson blew a raspberry up at Gabe, spittle running down his cheeks in rivulets. Gabe knew all was lost as he watched Jackson grab one of his upraised feet and pull it to his face, inserting his toes in his mouth to suck on. Gabe knew that all was lost as he watched the teenager mouth his toes.

“Hello there Gabe, I guess you were a little late, huh buddy.”

The voice scared Gabe so badly he nearly wet himself right there. He hadn’t even heard Coach Taylor approach from behind him. Now the man was standing there right next to him, grinning. And Gabe knew. He knew that Coach was behind this all. There was no way he’d be standing here watching a 17-year old boy reduced to mouthing his feet and drooling all over himself nearly naked in a crib, and not be horrified, unless he was the one who’d done this to the boy. As scared as Gabe now was, he also was aware that Coach was smiling at him. And then Gabe knew why. Coach had no idea that Gabe had recovered his mind. As far as he knew, Gabe was still thinking like a preschooler. After all he was standing here in a Sesame Street t-shirt and pull-ups. Gabe decided he’d better use this ruse to his advantage.

Putting on his best impression of a preschooler Gabe asked, “How come he in diapees? Jackson was a big boy wike me,” Gabe declared, pointing eagerly at his pull-ups and hoping he’d said that stupidly enough to fool Coach.

Coach just smiled and chuckled. “Jackson is just having a nice rest from being a big boy. He realised it’s much more fun to be a little baby boy.”

Gabe was relieved that his act seemed to be working, but knew he could easily give himself away if he wasn’t careful. He was sure Coach would soon notice his profuse sweating. On the upside, at least if he wet himself out of fear it would help his act.

Gabe shook his head back and forth, “But why not? Bein’ a big boy is funner! Why be a stupid baby?”

Gabe watched Coach carefully for a reaction. Had he gone too far with ?funner’? Had he given himself away?

Coach pointed down at Jackson. “No Gabe, you see how happy Jackson his, look at that smile! He’s grinning right around his tootsies.”

Gabe did as he was told and looked down at the toe-sucking teen’s smiling face. He watched as Jackson repeatedly would let his foot escape, push and pull it around a bit, the stick it back in his mouth to slobber over the tootsies more. Wanting to continue to fool the Coach Gabe masked his disgust and nodded. “Yeah, he look happy.”

Coach nodded encouragingly. “Of course he does Gabe. Wouldn’t you like to be that happy too? I can have the two of you snuggling up together playing footsies in no time.”

Gabe was horrified by this offer. The last thing he wanted was to end up in a crib like this with his dirty, smelly feet in his mouth, wallowing in his own poop and pee. “Um no, I don’ wanna,” he replied, voice beginning to shake.

Coach turned to face Gabe then, revealing the needle in his right hand. “Come now Gabe, it will only take a moment and I promise you’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

Gabe looked out at the playroom full of infantized men and teens. There was no way he wanted to end up like them. Coach was moving forward and there was only one way out now. He would have to run for it. As Coach lunged forward to grab the recalcitrant boy Gabe turned and broke into a sprint across the playroom. He vaulted over the creeping man-babies and made for the showers. As he burst thru the double-doors into the shower room though he realised that something had changed. Someone had turned all the showers on and a slick of water covered the floor. Gabe knew this was to his advantage as his bare feet would have better traction here than coach’s shoes would. The room was so filled with steam though, he couldn’t see more than a couple feet in front of him.

Not sure how far behind him Coach was, Gabe hurried into the showers. He only made it three strides before he had to stop. A wave of dizziness swept over him and in the blindness of the steam he nearly fell over. As the dizziness slowly abated Gabe became aware of tickling running through his feet and up his legs. He felt so weak suddenly, his legs were turning to jelly. He could feel his muscles losing their tone. He watched in horror as his leg hair retracted inward leaving him smooth. Gabe began to panic. What was happening to him?! He breathed heavier in his fear and began to feel all dizzy again.

“It’s okay Gabe, just relax and let it happen my boy.”

Gabe looked up from his legs to see Coach standing there, wearing a gas mask. His voice was muffled by it, but Gabe could still hear him. “What’s happening?” Gabe demanded.

Coach pointed at the water on the floor. “My special drug is in the water. It can be absorbed through the skin,” he pointed to Gabe’s bare feet. “Or inhaled as it turns to vapor,” he explained.

“What is it doing to me?” Gabe screeched in terror, feeling his legs become too weak for him to stand much longer. “Why is it destroying my muscles?”

Coach chuckled. “It isn’t destroying them Gabe, your mind is simply losing the ability to control them and as such they are becoming spastic. Your ligaments are also changing, allowing you much more flexibility. Soon you’ll have no problem getting your foot to your mouth for a little toe-munching, like your friend Jackson.”

Gabe screamed, “You can’t do this to me!” as his legs gave out, dropping him to his butt as his feet began to twitch.

“Oh, but I can Gabe. In fact I am, right now. There is no stopping it and by getting so worked up you are only speeding up the process, taking such nice deep breaths of the special steam. The more worked up you get, the more of the drug you ingest and the further back you go. I do believe you’re going to be just one of my little dribbly-droolers pretty soon. Crawling will likely be beyond your ability.”

Gabe began to cry in defeat, feeling the rest of his body hair retracting into his skin with a powerful tingle. All was lost, soon his brain would be mush. He did nothing as Coach knelt beside him and lifted his arms in the air, slipping off his shirt. Then slipping is pull-ups off as well, leaving him nude. What could be done? Why even try to escape if he’d already breathed in so much vapor he’d be gurgling mindless baby-talk before he could tell anyone what had happened.

Coach wrapped his arm around Gabe’s exposed body, cradling him. “It’s okay Gabe, you won’t be sad for long. I have to tell you that I did tell you a bit of a fib just now though. You see the drug in the water only cause the physical changes, making you a bit more baby-like. No more body hair, no fine motor control, relaxed ligaments to make it easy for you to play with your feet. But the drug doesn’t touch your brain.”

Gabe’s eyes widened as he realised he’d been tricked. Then he felt the cold metal of the sharp needle bite into his bare bottom. Coach continued, “That is what this is for. The steam makes you able to touch to toes to your mouth. This little wonder drug is what will make you want to put those silly tootsies in your mouth. This little shot is going to make you a happy little baby boy. My little baby boy.”

Gabe felt the pressure of the needle removed after a second and he knew it was all over. The drug would be in his blood-stream soon and then it would cross the blood-brain barrier and wipe out his brain. All his book-learning, years of experiences would be obliterated in a few moments. He was going to be reduced to diaper-wearing, toe-sucking, slobbering infant and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Coach picked Gabe up, cradling the well-built young man’s naked body against him, rubbing his bare bum and pecking a kiss on Gabe’s cheek. “Don’t worry Gabe this is going to feel wonderful for you. We’ll need to get a diapee on you in a moment because soon you’ll be making poopies and tinkles and you won’t even know or care what you’re doing.”

Coach laughed again and patted his bottom, “You’ll be doing poopies from your bum-bum soon pal. Can you say that? Say ?poo-poo’ Gabe.”

Gabe felt the drug hit him as a wave of disorientation rolled over him. In an instant he was no longer sure where he was, who he was, what he was. He didn’t know who this person holding him was either. All he knew was he felt wonderful! His body was awash in endorphins released by the obliteration of his brain. As sections of his mind dimmed and then went dark Gabe could only grin and chortle at the lovely sensations. He heard the man encouraging him to say ?poo-poo’ so he obliged. “Poo-Poo!” he screeched, giggling at the silly sounding word.

The man smiled and Gabe was glad he’d made the person smilie. Then he forgot what he’d done to make him smile, he thought he’d said a word. What was a word? Gabe could only blink his increasingly glassy eye as he lost all his words, his language comprehension skills wiped away forever. As Coach carried Gabe out of the steamy room the boy’s nose began to run just as his mouth dropped open, his jaw going slack, and saliva began to escape his lips, dribbling down his chin. Coach watched as the snot and drool mixed and dirtied his slack face, his pupils becoming wider as the drug did it’s work. “Gabe, Gabe, Gabe. It looks like your brains are leaking out of your nose and mouth you silly little boy,” Coach chided the uncomprehending boy.

Gabe hadn’t a clue what was being said to him, only that the tone of the voice was pleasing and he felt warm and comfy in this man’s arms. His neck grew weak and his head flopped forward onto the man’s shoulder. Gabe felt warm stuff running from his mouth but had no idea what it was. The baby slobber soon coated the shoulder of Coach’s shirt and ran down the back. “Uh Oh, looks like I’ll need a slobber towel for my shoulder if I’m gonna carry you little buddy.”

Gabe felt himself being put down on the floor now. The soft carpet tickled his flaccid penis and bare tummy. Gabe held his head up, the wet stuff still dripping from his mouth. It took some effort and what seemed like a long time, though Gabe no longer had any concept of how much time was really passing, before Gabe was able to roll himself over onto his back. Proud of his success he smiled and made pleasant noises. No words came to him anymore but he was satisfied to coo and blather his silly baby sounds, not realizing he’d ever had such things as words to express himself. As he stared up at the entrancing lights on the ceiling Gabe felt a last rush of wonderful euphoria as the last sections of his brain went dark. His long toned legs swung about and he grabbed his wagging feet and pulled them both comfortably to the sides of his head, watching the toes wiggle. He hadn’t a clue that these things were a part of him, that knowledge had disappeared with the final vestiges of his brain. Gabe was entranced by the wiggly things and decided to explore them the only way he knew how. He jammed several toes in his mouth and explored them with his tongue. The shiny light above stole away his wandering attention and he forgot all about the toes in his mouth. He continued to suckle them absently, staring at the ceiling and thinking about nothing at all.

***

Hundreds of miles away in a small and cluttered cubicle a phone began to ring. Hearing the incessant ringing a short middle aged man in a wrinkled shirt and loosened tie hurried across the maze of cubicles cluttering the office of the McClean, Virginia building, trying to reach the phone before the caller hung up. He reached the cubicle almost out of breath, ashamed at how out of shape he was, but immediately distracted from his thoughts by the number flashing on the caller ID. The man paused, staring at the phone number illuminated by the office’s fluorescent lights. It continued to ring. After taking a breath, the pudgy man picked up the receiver and said, “This is Donovan.”

He waited a moment, blinking, taking in what he was being told. “A complete success then?” he asked.

Donovan nodded and felt around his messy desk for a pen. Finding one he began to jot down scribbled handwriting on a spare piece of paper. “Yes, I understand. We have everything prepared for this situation.” After a pause he continued, “That’s right, carbon monoxide poisoning at the team’s motel. Our medical team will be there as soon as I can get them there.”

With that Donovan slammed down the phone briefly then began to feel around his desk again. After a minute of fruitless hectic searching Donovan picked up the phone again and dialed ?0’. “Yes, this is Donovan, get me Langley, assistant director Morris’ office.”

There was a pause while Donovan listened to musak tunes. Then the line connected. “Asst. director, this is Donovan, I’ve just had confirmation from our agent.” A nod from Donovan then, “Yes sir, complete success... Yes I have the file right here.”

Donovan fiddled briefly with a small set of keys, cradling the phone between his shoulder and cheek, unwilling to put his boss on hold. He unlocked his desk drawer and withdrew a manila folder stamped in the red words “Top Secret: For Your Eyes Only”. Flipping the folder open revealed a sheet marked “Operation Cradle of Life”. Donovan nodded and muttered agreements as he listened to his boss, then paused, his eyes widening. “Phase Two, sir?” he inquired.

Donovan nodded quickly, as though his boss could actually see him. “Of course sir, I just hadn’t realised. I thought it was a training scenario and...” Donovan was cut off abruptly. “Yes sir, I agree the drug needs to be trialed on a larger scale. Yes sir, I have that file here too assistant director.”

Donovan pulled out another manila folder from his now unlocked drawer and opened it. “Yes sir, the population is about 10,000. The reservoir is located in a state park ten miles away, perfect for aqueous contamination of the water supply with the agent.” Donovan flipped to the next page. “Yes, I have the name of the town right here...”

The End... Or just the Beginning?

 


 

End Chapter 8

The Coach

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Sep 18, 2009

Reviews/Comments

To comment, Join the Archive or Login to your Account

The AR Story Archive

Stories of Age/Time Transformation

Contact Us