Purification

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated May 25, 2010


Chapter 12
New City, New Life


Chapter Description: Scott has a new role with new responsibilities.


In this chapter I take a long look at Scott’s life as the caretaker for his mentally infantized wife. I really wanted to have plenty of mentally regressed adults and interactions with them in this chapter after all the build-up. Again, this isn’t the end, there’s more surprises to come. Note here that in NZ the name Graham is pronounced ’Gray-um’.

XII

Six Months Later

It was a lovely spring day in Auckland. The intense Kiwi sun beat down on the green rolling hills of semi-rural Pukekohe and it seemed the perfect day to be outside on a picnic. Scott Newcomb had other priorities though. In the months since the mind-altering water swept over Auckland and changed the face of the city Scott had been busy trying to make sure it could never happen again. He’d tracked down the company that shipped most of Van Meter’s ingredients and located the mobile lab where he’d cooked his potent potion. It was almost laughable that the mad scientist had concocted his wave of terror from an old caravan parked deep in the forest near Clevedon.

Despite all these discoveries Scott had hit some frustrating dead ends. He still didn’t know how Van Meter had avoided arrest for so many months. His purchases of restricted chemicals should have set off red flags all over. Another mystery was how Van Meter had gained access to the Metrowater van and uniform when they were kept in highly secure facilities. Unfortunately Van Meter himself couldn’t help answer any of these questions as he was now incapable of answering any questions at all. He very likely didn’t remember any of his actions anyway. The criminal genius now spent his days crawling around a special care centre for the affected, unable even to walk by himself.

The only other person who could have helped was Chief of Detectives Palmer. He’d been the only person with access to all aspects of the case and he’d kept much of it on a heavily encrypted computer at HQ. Thanks to Van Meter the chief was also in no shape to investigate the case. With no family or wife to take him in, Palmer was cared for at what was essentially a nursing home, his mentality little better than a 12 month old’s. No one at HQ seemed able to decrypt his computer, so Scott was left with only a part of the gathered information.

The tainted water had regressed 80,000 people across the city. Hundreds of thousands were saved by Scott’s quick actions, but that was little comfort to the families of those he couldn’t help. Those exposed generally ended up with the mentality of a 2 to 3 year old, but a large minority was regressed much further. Some very unlucky victims ended up with a mental age of as little as six or seven months. Everyone was desperately afraid that it could happen again. The government had been urged to take extreme action. The Police were given extraordinary new powers to prevent a recurrence. But none of those new powers made Scott’s job of investigating the case any quicker.

So it was that Scott was spending another day hunched over a dozen chemical order forms spread across his kitchen table. He scanned the papers, looking for a pattern he’d missed before. Then a delighted little squeal made Scott look up from the papers scattered across the table. He couldn’t help but smile at his wife’s happy play. Little Tegan was still quite the artist. Positioned safely on the back deck and dressed in nothing but a nappy there was no danger of her current ?art’ ruining her clothes or the carpet. Tegan’s hands and wrists were covered in a variety of paint colours, with flecks of paint splashed liberally across her tummy, boobies, face and hair. The twenty-eight year old splashed her hands into the paint bucket and then patted and slapped at the paint-splattered canvas laid across the deck beneath her. Her long blonde hair was tied high into pig-tails in an attempt to keep most of it paint-free. Scott loved hearing her playful giggles as she made ?art’.

Tegan looked up at her ?daddy’ and showed off her currently green hands. Scott looked lovingly at her. Tegan’s face was still painted like a kitty-cat, complete with black whiskers across her soft cheeks, from a friend’s birthday party the day before. Even without the face-paint her expression was juvenile in appearance. Her face was just so relaxed, as though the muscles had all simply let go when her intelligence left her. Her eyes were wide and innocent with a certain distant quality that conveyed the lack of understanding behind them.

Tegan returned to her happy paint-smearing for a moment then leaned back, resting on her haunches and gazing blankly up at the sky, her jaw slack. Scott knew that look all too well. Shaking his head he rose from his chair and headed out to the deck, kneeling beside the squatting 20-something beauty. Scott gently brushed his hand down Tegan’s bare back. “I think someone’s making a nice big poopie right now aren’t they?” he chided playfully. “Do you have a poopsie nappy Tegan?” he asked.

The nearly naked girl replied with happy baby babble, strings of consonants and long vowel sounds that meant nothing at all. Scott found her simple jabbering to be adorable and much more appropriate now anyway. Tegan didn’t need language anymore since she no longer had big complex thoughts that required such communication. Her simple needs of nappies, food, cuddles and sleep were much better communicated through her babbling and screeching.

Scott pulled his messy, stinky wife into his arms and cuddled her close. Scott had found over the past few months that he’d developed a deeper love and affection for Tegan than he’d ever felt before. Of course sex was now out of the question but he expressed his love in other ways. Many times he could spend long periods lying on the floor or the couch with Tegan resting or sleeping cuddled on top of him, gently rubbing her back and making her feel safe and loved. Now he crooned to her, “Tegan is such a good wittle girl, so pretty and happy. Daddy loves Tegan so, so much.”

“Daaah...oooh,” she chattered pleasantly in reply.

Scott lifted Tegan easily into his arms, letting her legs wrap around his waist and cradling her still warm nappy in his hands. He brought his love back into the house to her changing pad. Lying her down on her back he entertained her by shaking a set of shiny plastic keys about. Tegan snatched at them and gnawed at the tough plastic when he handed them to her.

With the baby distracted Scott set to work changing her nappy. He quickly stripped off and disposed of the dirty one, pulling out some moist baby wipes and cleaning her bum. As he lifted her legs back to clean better Tegan discarded the toy keys and began to wriggle and grab at her feet. Soon she had them pulled back to either side of her head and yanked them back and forth playfully. Scott enjoyed her silliness and gave her a tickle on her bare thighs. Tegan enjoyed this immensely but soon chose a new pursuit, pulling the right foot to her mouth and inserting a couple toes to suck on. Scott always found this behaviour particularly endearing. But as he watched her munch away at her tootsies he noticed Tegan’s bare soles were coated in a light covering of brown dirt. She’d been playing in her garden again.

Scott frowned and finished the nappy change, allowing Tegan to enjoy her toe-munching a while longer. Then he sat her up and gave her his stern daddy look. “Tegan sweetie, you know not to play in that garden,” he told her.

Tegan frowned herself, not understanding the words but recognising the tone. “Sweetie-pie the garden is a no-no.” Scott took Tegan’s foot and showed her the sole, brushing away some dirt and saying, “No-no Tegan. This is a no-no. I’m sorry honey, I know how much you loved your garden when you were big. And maybe you have some memories of those days that make you want to go there. But now you tend to try to eat the flowers and the dirt and the bugs too. Those aren’t good for you. I’m sorry.”

Tegan clearly wasn’t happy about the mean daddy tone and she started to pout and tear up. Luckily Scott had a solution to any argument with Tegan that he’d never had before. He simply lifted up the bright blue rattle and shook it enticingly before Tegan’s eyes. Instantly the tears and pout were gone and her wide eyes snapped to the rattle. Tegan’s mouth went slack with awe and spittle dribbled down her chin freely. “That’s right sweetie, look at the pretty rattle,” Scott urged.

Tegan smiled now and reached out for it, clapping her hands and feet together and babbling, “Eeehgaaa!”

Scott gave her the rattle to shake and chew on. It amazed him how quickly her empty little brain forgot all previous arguments when presented with the simple toy. Whilst she chewed away at her rattle Scott picked her back up and carried her to the oversized baby bouncer that hung on elastic straps from the archway between the living room and front entry. Scott carefully slipped each of her long smooth bare legs through the holes and lowered her newly nappied bum into the seat. Tegan’s toes just brushed the floor as she hung there in the bouncer. Tegan grinned around her toy and promptly began bouncing up and down, her boobs jiggling and pig-tails bobbing about.

“There we go, that’s a happy baby,” Scott declared, leaning in to peck a kiss on her painted cheek.

As he doted on Tegan Scott heard a cacophony of noise from upstairs. Frowning, Scott sighed, asking Tegan “What’s your brother up to now, eh?”

“Boobaah!” Tegan answered.

Scott shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know either. Guess I better check on the big guy.”

Scott headed upstairs and went straight down the hall to Graham’s room. Taking his regressed partner in had seemed the only decent thing to do. So Scott had resigned himself to caring for two big babies rather than one. Graham offered a whole different set of challenges from Tegan though. Scott’s poor wife had been reduced to the level of a 12 month old according to the doctors. Her care meant changing nappies, keeping dirty things out of her mouth and trying to get most of her food in her mouth rather than on her face. Graham was more on the level of a 2 and a half year old. His challenges included tantrums, insisting everything was his and keeping him from climbing on everything in sight. That and trying to keep some clothes on him when he was in public.

It had been difficult to take his old partner in at first. He’d found it very awkward to deal with seeing a full-grown man, a man he’d known for years, prancing around the house buck naked, squatting on a little potty to do his business and generally behaving like a toddler. Graham hadn’t had any problems with the transition. His memories of his life before being blasted with the powder were very hazy. He didn’t seem to recall where he knew Scott from and soon accepted him as his daddy. Eventually Scott came to the conclusion that it was best for all of them if he accepted that role too, no longer insisting little Graham call him Scott.

Graham’s room was a typical toddler bedroom. His Dinosaur print bed sheets were discarded on the floor beside his bed. The floor was littered with toys from the half-emptied chest at the foot of the bed. But there was no sign of the big little boy. Scott headed back down the hall the other way, hearing noises coming from his room instead. Entering the room Scott had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. As it was he let a giggle escape. Standing before him was Graham, but not as he’d ever seen him. The thirty year old was dressed in one of Tegan’s old pink sun dresses, complete with a beeded necklace and flat shoes, which he had on the wrong feet. He looked up at Scott with surprise at first. Then he gave Scott a proud look and announced, “Lookie daddy, Gwayum get big ?gain!”

“Oh my gosh Graham! What are you doing?” Scott managed to ask between giggles.

Graham frowned and insisted, as though Scott should have clearly known without being told, “Gwayam wearin’ gwown-up cwothes!”

Scott smiled lovingly at the cross-dressing boy. “Oh sweetie, those aren’t man clothes. Those are woman clothes.”

Graham looked down at his dress and seemed confused. “But I finded ?em in da gwown-up woom! Dis your woom daddy!”

“Buddy, grown-up men and women wear different clothes. These are Tegan’s clothes.”

But Graham didn’t seem to understand. He shook his head and insisted, “Nuh-uh, Tegan don’ wear cwothes! She just a bay-bee. Tegan gots nappies.”

Scott had to agree that was true now, but it wasn’t the point. “How come you wanna dress like a grown-up anyway? I though you liked your birthday suit.”

Graham looked conflicted. Clearly he wanted to agree that he did like his birthday suit, but at the same time he wanted daddy to see he could be grown-up. “Wanna be gwown-up. Wanna go movie!” he finally yelled out.

“Oh!” Scott replied, understanding now. Graham had been developing an assertive streak of kinds recently. The other day he’d seen an ad on TV for the new James Bond movie. Scott had to explain to a very defiant toddler that he simply wasn’t big enough to see the movie. He felt really bad for Graham, suddenly being too little to see what would have been one of his favourite movies. So Scott decided to humour the boy a bit.

“Well buddy, I understand completely now. Maybe you’d like a little help getting dressed like a proper grown-up though. Would you like daddy’s help?” he asked.

Graham seemed to like this idea. He smiled and nodded. “Daddy hewp Gwayam,” he agreed.

Scott helped Graham out of the women’s clothes then went to get him some more mature clothing. Graham clearly wanted to thank Scott more thoroughly for the help but the words simply weren’t forming in his head. There was just a big empty place in his mind now where all those words used to be. That was okay though, Graham was used to his limited vocabulary now and Scott knew what he wanted to say.

Soon Scott had Graham dressed in a nice striped green polo shirt and some khakis cargo shorts. He tried putting some socks and sneakers on Graham’s feet but the man-boy pouted and moaned. “Dey all pinchy,” he whined.

Scott understood, several months of constant barefootedness had widened the boy’s feet a bit and he’d grown too used to the shoeless toe-wiggling freedom to be comfortable in shoes again. It was just one of the ways Graham’s grown-up body was adapting to his little boy brain. Scott tousled Graham’s hair and told him, “That’s okay mate, you don’t need shoes. Plenty of big boys go barefoot to the movies.”

Graham seemed relieved that shoes weren’t necessary, wriggling his toes happily as Scott peeled the socks away. Scott had barely finished when Graham jumped up and announced, “Okay, gonna go movie now.”

“Well hold your horses there mate. How are you going get to the theatre? Are you going to drive?”

Graham shook his head, driving was much too complicated and scary for a little boy like him of course.

“Well are you going to walk all the way to the mall in your bare footsies?” Scott asked next, tapping Graham’s toes.

“Nuh-uh, too fah,” the boy agreed once again.

“So would you like daddy to drive you?” Scott asked.

Now Graham was in full agreement. Big grown-ups rode in cars all the time. “Grayam open da door,” he insisted though.

“Okay buddy, you can open the door by yourself.”

“Goody, ?kay c’mon we gonna go!” Graham urged, grabbing Scott’s hand and pulling him to the door while hopping from foot to foot in excitement.

Scott reflected that one of the upsides of Graham’s transformation was how easily amused he now was. What adult could get so happy and excited about going to a movie and getting to open and close a car door? It was also helpful that most of Graham’s memories of Scott had been cleared away or else faded with time as he seemed to readily accept him as his daddy. Scott liked seeing Graham smile like that.

“One moment Graham. How are you going to pay for the movie?” Scott inquired.

Graham’s smile faltered. “Pay?”

“Yeah mate, you need money. Here,” Scott gestured, taking out a note and some coins. “This is what you need for the movie. Do you know how much this is?”

Graham shook his head. Counting was a big boy thing far beyond his abilities.

Scott handed the brown $5 note to Graham. “That’s five dollars. See the man’s picture. That’s Sir Edmund Hillary. He’s a Kiwi who was the first man to climb the tallest mountain in the world.”

“Ooh,” Graham declared looking intensely at the note.

“So that’s five. And here are six, seven and eight,” Scott counted, dropping three one-dollar coins on the floor before Graham.

The large toddler gaped at the shiny coins and began to chew on the note. “Graham grown-ups don’t chew on their money, do they?”

The boy looked chagrined at his childish behaviour. “Sowwy,” he squeaked.

“That’s okay. Now you put that money in your pocket and use it to pay the ticket man. That’s your money now.”

Graham proudly pocketed the note and coins, picking them up one at a time with his uncoordinated fingers.

While Graham hopped up and down by the front door, only kept from escaping by his inability to figure out the lock, Scott got Tegan dressed to go out. She always liked her butterfly t-shirt so she didn’t fight Scott as he slipped it over her head and threaded her arms through the holes. A knee-length pink skirt completed the outfit. With both ?kids’ dressed they were soon on their way.

The drive to Manukau Mall was an adventure for Graham, getting to sit in the front seat like a grown-up. It wasn’t a long way though and soon Scott was undoing the buckles on Tegan’s special car seat. It was just another new product that some company was making a killing on. Scott was amazed at the speed with which companies had moved in to fill the need for larger baby products of all sorts. As he lowered Tegan to her feet on the cool cement of the car park he felt quite guilty about the next newly adult-sized product he needed to use.

“Okay sweetie-pie, arms up,” he directed, slipping the blue plastic harness around her arms and clipping it at her back. They called it a harness but Scott knew it was nothing more than a leash for little children, now upsized to fit regressed adults. He wanted to apologise to Tegan every time he put it on her but it was so necessary. She’d retained just enough mental ability to be able to toddle and run, but not enough to have the sense to stay with her daddy. Anything shiny or pretty would draw all her attention and she be off like a shot. Scott couldn’t risk her getting lost or hurt.

Scott led the two kids into the mall carefully watching for cars. The kids were oblivious, Graham pulling hard at Scott’s hand wanting to rush ahead. A few heads turned as they entered the mall. Mind-wiped adults weren’t unusual but they still drew stares from a few. They were hardly alone at the mall today. A very beautiful teen girl was sprawled across the dirty mall floor on her tummy right near the entry. Dressed in a light sundress she was playing with some dolls swinging her legs back and forth in the air showing off her dirty black bare soles.

A couple pushed a double stroller towards the exit. Seated in it was a pair of boys who looked about twelve to fourteen, both wearing cartoon print t-shirts but no pants. One had on colourful underoos, the other pull-ups. In the play centre at the middle of the mall a middle aged man wearing only a t-shirt and thick nappy sat on a bench beside a younger woman who was probably his daughter. A middle aged lady, probably his wife, was playing on the teeter-totter giggling cheerfully and sucking a pacifier, dressed in a short white play dress.

Tired of the pulling on his hand Scott let Graham hurry ahead but made sure he kept him in sight. Graham dashed off at first but soon paused and looked back, not wanting to get too far away from daddy. Watching his former partner toddling barefooted through the mall, his wide eyes gazing with curiosity at all the shops and people, made Scott feel the loss of his old friend’s intellect especially hard. Graham could have been an invaluable asset in trying to decipher all the evidence he was going through now.

When they reached the entry to the movie theatre by the food-court Scott hung back, allowing Graham to stand in line all by himself. It let Graham feel grown-up again, but Scott knew how this little taste of independence would soon end. He just hoped Graham wasn’t too upset.

Reaching the front of the queue, Graham rushed up to the counter and announced, “Wanna go Jame Bond!”

The clerk looked at him oddly but said nothing. Graham pouted but then seemed to realise he’d forgotten the most important thing. He felt around his pockets, at first finding only the sticky lollies he’d jammed in one of them. Then he succeeded in drawing out the money, carefully depositing it in a pile on the counter. “Eight,” he declared, remembering Scott’s words.

But the man behind the counter didn’t give him a ticket. He only gestured to an older woman to come over. This lady looked Graham over carefully, right from his messy hair to his marshmallow stained cheeks and all the way down to his dirty bare feet. “What movie did you want to see sweetie?” she asked when she was done.

“Jame Bond,” Graham told her.

“Oh honey that’s a scary movie. I think you’d much rather go to Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs,” she suggested.

“No! Wanna go Jame Bond,” Graham huffed.

“I’m sorry dear, but that movie’s for grown-ups only. It would only scare you. You’d be up all night.”

Graham was clearly confused. He was wearing a grown-up shirt and shorts. Why wouldn’t she let him in? It was enough to make him stick his bottom lip out and start to breathe heavier. “Me is big,” he insisted, standing on his tippy-toes to impress her more.

But the woman only shook her head. “I’m sorry sweetie.”

Graham was on the verge of crying when Scott stepped in and comforted him. Pulling him into his arms and patting his back while the boy sniffled. “Sorry about that. I just wanted to let him feel grown-up again for a little bit,” he explained to the woman.

“No worries, I have a new little one at home myself. Maybe I’ll let him have a go at playing grown-up again sometime too.”

Turning his attention back to Graham Scott looked the boy in his red, teary eyes and suggested, “Hey, how about some Mickey D’s?”

Graham perked up at this suggestion, his tears disappearing as quickly as they’d appeared. “I wanna toy.”

“Okay mate, c’mon,” Scott said, leading Graham out of the theatre by the hand again.

After having a Big Happy Meal, something McDonald’s had brilliantly introduced at its Auckland locations for their new market of kids with adult sized appetites, Graham was in a much better mood. Scott was just happy to get home. It disturbed him to be around all those other innocent victims of the man he failed to stop. With Graham and Tegan he dealt with it by imagining they were just his kids. He tried hard not to think about their past lives as adults much.

Graham had barely been home five minutes before his desire to dress grown-up was forgotten and his shirt, shorts and big boy undies were left piled on the floor. Scott didn’t mind that at home. It was better that Graham prance around in his birthday suit anyway since it helped him remember to use the plastic potty chair in the living room. The big tot pushed his teddy bear around the floor, his bare bum stuck up in the air. Then Graham started getting a bit more friendly with the teddy. Scott looked away as the mentally regressed man began to hump the plush toy.

It was one of the difficulties of having a toddler with an adult’s body and needs, but lacking an adult’s sense of modesty or restraint. It had been most awkward early on. Besides the arousal of the actual transformation it seemed that becoming so empty headed was in itself quite exciting. Graham was suddenly free of all cares, untouched by societal standards, totally lacking in impulse control. He was free to do whatever felt nice, whenever he felt the urge. Of course Graham had no idea what he was doing, no idea it made Scott uncomfortable or that it was meant to be something private. Toddlers didn’t have any privacy after all, he simply didn’t understand the very concept. Scott referred to the stiffies Graham often sported as having a ?happy pee-pee.’ The results Scott euphemistically termed, ?making a squirt.’ Graham was often naked or half-naked because he got out of his clothes to ?make a squirt’ and found it too difficult to get them back on.

Scott went to the kitchen to clean up while Graham did his thing. Soon enough he arrived in the kitchen with his pee-pee no longer stiff and announced with a peaceful smile that he’d squirted. “Okay mate, why don’t you go play with your new toy. Daddy needs to work,” Scott told him trying to sound cheery. He didn’t want Graham feeling ashamed about any bodily needs. He was just too young of mind for that.

With Graham playing with his new toy up in his room and Tegan down for a nap in her playpen, Scott was free to work through his newest clues in peace. He didn’t get enough time for work at home these days and he really needed to get this done. There was something that didn’t add up and Scott could feel he was on the verge of a major breakthrough.

To Be Continued...

Author’s Note: I know I hit on an unusual subject for my stories in the discussion of masturbation. I usually steer clear of any overt sexuality in mentally regressed characters. But I’ve reached the conclusion that it is unrealistic to not at least mention it in this story. Adults with adult hormones but toddler minds without much impulse-control would likely spend a lot of time pleasuring themselves. So I felt it was necessary to thow it in there. Also it was something of an hommage to the first mental AR story I ever read, "My Brother Ritchie".

 


 

End Chapter 12

Purification

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated May 25, 2010

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