Financial Aid

Chapter 6
Dividends

Chapter Description: The treatment reaches its final, and perhaps permanent, stage.

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When Ben woke up the next morning, he found his bed cast in striped shadows. As he tried to pull himself upright, he realized the awful truth: he was in a baby’s crib. His crib. The dimly lit room that once held volumes of science books now only held bright, colorful baby books with no words. He tried to call for his mother and found that, similar to the books on his shelves, he, too, had no words.

All that escaped his mouth was an enthusiastic “mmm-pthaa!”

He stared at his pudgy hand. He stared at his chubby baby legs which poked out of the white onesie that only barely covered the puffy plastic diaper that pushed his legs apart. He began to think of all the things he would miss out on. All of his friends would move on without him, going on to do great things, fall in love, and pursue their careers while he would be stuck in an endless cycle of diaper changes and bottle feedings. While his friends would be drinking champagne and celebrating a night on the town, he would be stuck with his mommy in his yellow wooden crib, pooping in his diaper. He couldn’t go on thinking. He began to cry, softly at first, but found he could not stem the raw emotions that overpowered his now infantile body. He wailed as hard as he could, until his mother softly pushed open the door.

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“Aww, baby, what’s the matter?!” she cooed, reaching over the rails of his crib to pick him up. He felt so tiny in her arms, nuzzled up against her warm chest. As he looked up at her, he couldn’t remember ever seeing his mother so young, she couldn’t have looked a day over thirty.

Ben’s mommy slipped a finger under the elastic of his diaper and pulled it out again, “Aww, I know what’s the matter, sweety! You’re soaking wet! Diddums little Ben make a pee-pee for mommy?” she asked, holding her one year old son out at arm’s length and cocking her head, “Yes he did! Yes he DID!”

Ben couldn’t remember wetting his diaper; he couldn’t even remember how he got home after shopping. Everything seemed fuzzy.

“Someone needs his diapey changed! Yes! My little college boy has a messy diapey!” she cooed at him, laying him gently on his back on the white changing table that the movers had brought in while they were shopping yesterday.

Ben’s mother quickly unclasped the snaps on the front of his onesie and pulled the front panel up onto his tummy to access his diaper. It was sopping wet. As she undid the tapes on the sides and pulled the diaper down between his legs, Ben let loose an involuntary spurt of urine that dribbled down onto the changing pad. His lack of maturation underscored his appearance: it was as if Ben had never seen his 20th birthday, or even his 2nd, for that matter. His age was a matter of months now, not years.

“Ohh, honey! I forgot you used to be such a messy baby! It’s okay, mommy will clean you up!” she said, grabbing a handful of baby wipes from the nearby container as well as a fresh disposable Pampers. “Let’s get you nice and fresh, and then we can have breakfast! I think this is the earliest I’ve ever seen you up, big boy!” she said, pointing to the digital clock which read 7:45 AM.

She whisked off his onesie and left him shivering nude on the soft, porcelain-white changing pad. Ben kicked his legs idly into the air, not being able to control them deliberately. Above him swirled a colorful mobile of plush baby animals. A bright colored toucan briefly filled his vision before disappearing out of his range of sight.

Ben felt a cool, wet spurt of liquid on his chest which caused him to jostle and kick on the changing table.

"Mamaa! Ptthppphhh!" he gurgled through his toothless mouth, childishly.

“You’ll like this, honey, this used to be your favorite part!” Ben’s mother promised, holding the bottle of baby oil in her left hand while rubbing in the fragrant with her left. She worked the sweet-smelling oil into every crevice on her infant son’s body, making sure to work a finger in between his butt-cheeks and rolling his testicles and penis lightly in her hand, watching him become involuntarily erect at her touch. Ben blushed deep red; he couldn’t believe what was happening. His privacy was shattered. Without a word, she flipped him over onto his stomach and massaged some of the baby oil onto his back.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Joan said to herself, briefly walking across the room to fetch a small rectangular box, “this will only take a minute.”

Out of the box she produced a long thermometer. Using a bit of Vaseline, she greased up the bulb of the instrument which she quickly inserted into her son’s bottom. He grunted and whined as she slid the thermometer deeper. Right as he was about to burst into tears, she removed the thermometer as quickly as she had placed it in, wiped it off with a diaper wipe, noted the reading and placed it back in the box.

“Sorry, baby. I had to take your temperature for your own good! Let me make it up to you!” she said, quickly flipping him back over on his back and blowing loud raspberries onto his protruding tummy.

Ben tried with all his might to resist, but it was no use. Soon the bright white room was filled with the sound of baby laughter. Ben prattled and gurgled up at his mommy who smiled down on him. Ben sucked eagerly on his closed fist, leaving strings of baby drool trailing from his toothless grin.

As he felt his mother’s warm touch and affection on his naked body, Ben thought that while, sure, it was embarrassing, but, at the same time, he might be able to get used to it. This wasn’t so bad, he thought.

As he rooted childishly in the sunlight of the nursery, Ben’s mother took time to appreciate his infantile charms; she tickled his feet and kissed him, loudly, all over. She smiled as he wriggled involuntarily before him, unashamed of the fact that he was buck-naked in front of his mother.

“Ben, I’m so glad we did this. When I ordered the treatments for us two months ago, I never thought it would be this good,” she said, look at him motheringly.

Ben smiled up at his mother. It was good. Wait. Did she say two months ago? Does she mean that she ordered this before our conversation? She had planned this AND ordered all the chemicals before she even mentioned it to me! His smile faded quickly.

“Oops! What’s the matter, baby? Was it something I said?” she inquired innocently.

Ben tried with all his might and managed to form his pudgy, infant hand to display only two digits.

“Ohhhh. The two month thing. Yeah, Ben, it was for your own good. Well, both of us. This is what you wanted anyway, right? A carefree existence? Well, I gave it to you. You didn’t think I did this JUST for you, did you? If you had graduated college, I wouldn’t be able to claim you as a dependent on my taxes! So, I used a little of your financial aid to make sure that you never become independent. Don’t worry, honey, you’ll be back to normal in five years. That is, if you’re a good baby. I can always order more medicine,” she said ominously.

Staring, unblinking into his mother’s stern eyes, Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing! His head was beginning to hurt just from thinking about it, and all he could do was feel the hot rush of tears begin to well up behind his eyes. He might never grow up again!

“Just think of how easy everything will be!” she continued, “Instead of having to grow up and walk around in a stuffy old business suit, you can sit on my lap in just your diaper! You don’t have to get up to go to the bathroom anymore! You can just go right in your Pampers!”

Grabbing the bottle of baby powder in one hand and her son’s tiny ankles in the other, she lifted him up and shook a generous portion onto her wailing son’s bottom. While he frantically drummed his fat infant heels on the soft mat of the changing pad, she calmly dusted his pitiful one-inch manhood with powder, lifted his soft bottom up and slid a fresh diaper underneath.

“You can go poo-poos while you play with all your new toys!” she said, bringing the diaper up between his legs, “won’t that be nice? You can sit on your chubby little tushie, half-naked in your playpen and suck on your ba-ba all day! And if you make a mess in your diaper, I can just change you right there on the carpet!” She taped his new diaper closed, and watched silently with a smile as her son’s sobs subsided. Ben’s thumb found its way back into his mouth and he sucked on it vociferously to placate himself.

“I know what’ll make you feel better. I still have one last surprise for you,” she said, pulling her son up to a seated position. “Come with me,” she said, giving him no choice as she picked up her nine-month old son, clad only in a disposable diaper, and cuddled him to her chest.

The two made their way down the stairs and settled into the soft recliner in the living room. Ben’s mother held her son tenderly in her arms as she sat in the chair, looking down warmly into his eyes. As they got comfortable, Ben’s diaper crinkled softly between his legs.

“Here’s the surprise: when you saw the package I ordered, you didn’t see the one that came two weeks earlier. I’ve been taking progesterone,” she said quietly as she slid her terry cloth robe off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. “I did promise you breakfast,” she remarked with a smile before guiding her infant son’s head toward her nipple and brushing her finger softly on his cheek.

Ben’s mind raced, but was still too slow. Before he had time to react, he was already instinctively wrapping his lips around his mother’s exposed nipple. Suckling noisily, waves of warm, thin milk poured down his throat. Ben closed his eyes tightly for a moment before letting everything go.

Ben’s mother felt a warmth spreading in the hand which cradled her son’s bottom and smiled down broadly at her son. She knew that his money would make a good investment.