The Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 1
Whole Story

Tim stared hard at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He didn’t like what he saw in it, not one little bit. Instead of what he usually saw, a muscular six foot two inch man in his prime, a brown-haired, tanned twenty-something, there was but a small child now staring back at him in the mirror. The child was small and pudgy, baby fat still clinging to his arms and legs, his hair fine and blonde. How could that be his reflection? How could he be that silly, naked little boy, barely out of diapers, a toddler, a silly little nose-picking, thumb-sucking brat.

“Keep looking,” Steph warned.

Tim grimaced, knowing this was all her doing, wanting to knock her teeth out, if only to wipe that damned smile off her face. He knew about the work she’d done, heard her stories about the mirror, the subjects she’d treated, how they’d lost everything ‘big’ about their minds just from seeing their reflections. But he’d never imagined she’d fuck with him this way. She was meant to be his girlfriend, he was in charge of this house, not her!

“Eyes on the mirror mister,” she chided as he glanced back at her.

“Fuck you,” he squeaked in his chipmunk voice.

“Swear all you like sweetie, but keep your eyes on the mirror.”

Tim fumed but did as he was told. She promised him a chance to grow back up if he looked continuously for ten minutes. Obviously she thought he’d never make it that long, but he had a lot of anger and he could use that to focus his mind, keep it on track. She’d done this to him, shrunk his toned body into a shadow of its former self. Had she spiked his drink? Or maybe jabbed him with a needle as he slept? He didn’t know, only that he’d woken up in a pool of his former night clothes, his limbs short and pudgy. He could see the damage she’d done, there was no escaping it. Worst of all was his dick. If that was even the proper word for it now. It felt like it should be called a winkie, or maybe his doodle or even the simple toddlerism, pee-pee. But he couldn’t let himself think that way, using baby words was not the right thing to do in this situation, even if they felt appropriate.

Tim looked down at his winkie… his dick, again. The tiny little thing jiggled limp between his legs, good for nothing more than wetting the bed or maybe a pair of pull-ups. He’d tried covering it up at first but Steph would have none of his modesty. Little tots don’t mind people seeing their pee-pees she insisted, they have no concept of privacy and he needed to get used to that.

“You’re a real cutie Timmy,” she cooed to him. “I can hardly wait to show all my friends how adorable you are.”

“Nobody else is seeing me like this!” he snapped, losing his temper.

Steph chuckled lightly at his outburst. “Do you mean all little, or nakey as a jaybird? Because I’m afraid you’ll be doing both. But don’t you worry, in just a few minutes you won’t mind one little bit. I’ll have my friends over for tea and you’ll creep around the carpet for us, showing off that adorable tushy and teensy-weensy doodle with a lovely smile on your face. You’ll enjoy the attention. Why I bet you’ll even do a nakey dance for us!”

“I’d rather die,” he muttered back.

“Don’t be so dramatic Timmy. You’ll be so much happier this way. No more deadlines to worry about, to drive you to drink, to make you so moody and distant all the time. You’ll just be able to stay right here with Mummy and play and cuddle all day. Won’t that be nice?”

“I’m not one of your subjects,” he snapped. “I didn’t sign any waivers. You won’t get away with this, someone will figure it out.”

She shrugged. “It’s always a risk but that makes no difference to you sweetie, the mental adjustment is a one-way trip. Even if someone does come for me they’ll just have to put you into foster care.”

A one way trip. That made Tim’s stomach turn. He didn’t want to be a senseless little toddler! He could picture it now, Steph being found out and hauled off to jail for her crimes, while he just sat stupidly on the floor watching, totally oblivious, sucking his thumb and filling his diaper. Some lawyer, some child services agent would apologise to him, gaze down at him with pity and he wouldn’t even understand, would just cry out for his mummy, for his betrayer. It was too horrible to think about.

“Don’t sulk sweetie,” Steph said, “Just look at the adorable baby in the mirror, won’t it be nice to let go, just relax and have fun.”

“I’m not a baby!” he snapped, immediately regretting the juvenile sounding declaration.

Steph giggled at his whining. “Okay fair enough, you’re a big toddler, not a baby.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You know I think it’s already begun Timmy. You’re already sounding pretty little to me. Are you feeling it sweetie? Are you a bit confused, a little fuzzy between the ears?”

Tim shook his head, watching the tiny pink little boy in the mirror do the same. But was she right? It was confusing to see his reflection react along with him, to see that he was the little toddler.

“Can you still sing your ABCs?” she asked him.

“Course I can,” he insisted, silently singing the song in his head to be sure.

“Can you still count? Can you tell me how many fingers and toes you have?”

Tim blinked and looked at the pudgy little sausages his digits had become. Of course he could still count, though it made him feel funny looking at them, made him think of Mummy playing the piggy-toes game with him. The thought made him smile and feel warm and happy. He shook the feeling off, but Steph had seen the smile.

“That’s right honey, it’s not so bad. I told you, it’s fun to forget, all my subjects have gotten very smiley and giggly towards the end.”

“Not the end,” he huffed, though he did feel distinctly fuzzy now, and it got worse with every glance at the mirror, at his stupid reflection.

“Well it nearly is,” she said with a glance at her watch.

“How long it been?” he demanded.

“Not ten minutes,” she answered. “I’d show you my watch but I doubt you can read it anymore.”

“I know my times!” he shouted.

“Shh, sweetie, use your inside voice,” she chided. “Look at that silly little nakey boy in the mirror, does he look like he can tell time? Look at those pretty blue eyes, so big and empty, those wiggly toes, that precious little pee-pee. That’s not a little boy capable of worrying about time, that’s for his Mummy to worry about. He’s not worried about his ABCs or counting his toes.” She paused, growing a wicked smile. “No, he’s probably thinking about what his toesies taste like.”

Tim blinked and focussed on his reflection. She was right that he didn’t look capable of thinking about much of anything. He looked innocent, like a thoughtless, mindless little tot should. And his toes were kind of appealing, what would they taste like? Was that a normal thought to have? It did seem like the kind of thing the empty-headed tot in the mirror would do, taste his toes. And that was him in the mirror, him with the tasty toesies.

Tim shook his head hard and cleared his thoughts. He was slipping hard and he knew it now. “Not gonna get little,” he repeated.

Steph shrugged. “Really? And how old are you exactly?”

Tim twisted around to see her, to look at her eyes. She looked so big sitting on his bed, towering over him down on the floor, his bare bum on the soft carpet, legs splayed out before him. He was older than her and she was so big. So he was… he was…. There was only blankness in his mind. It was a horrifying realisation.

“Eyes on the mirror, little one,” she ordered.

He did as he was told, she was so big, there was no choice. But he had to find a way to fight it, before it was too late.

“There’s no need to look so grumpy, it’s going to be a lovely relief when you let go. Mummy will give you the biggest cuddle and we can play. I’ve got a whole nursery and playroom all ready for you.”

Tim shook his head, trying not to picture it. “This is my room,” he muttered.

“Not anymore honey. You wouldn’t want it anyway, no toys to play with, no bright friendly colours on the walls, not even a teddy to cuddle to sleep.”

Tim felt his emotions getting out of control as he thought about all the things he could lose. “How much longer?” he demanded.

“Until you’re showing mummy how nummy your tootsies are and how happy you are to be my baby boy? I’d say not much longer at all,” she quipped.

Tim scrunched up his little face and the giant woman at least looked more serious. But Steph didn’t check her watch this time. “How long did I say Timmy?” she asked instead.

“Ten minutes,” he replied right away.

“And how many is ten? Is it more than twenty, or less? Do you think the little boy in the mirror would know that?”

No, the silly boy in the mirror definitely didn’t know and suddenly, neither did Tim. The numbers were still there, he knew their names, but the sequence escaped him, he couldn’t put them in order at all. It was a scary feeling, to be so lost, so dumb. “I… I…” he stammered, on the verge of tears.

Steph looked sympathetic now. “I know sweetie, you can’t remember. That’s okay because I was never going to reverse it after ten minutes anyway. I’m afraid the physical change is a one-way trip too.”

This news hit Tim like a ton of bricks. The tears came at last, he sobbed and sniffled, snot running out of his nose and onto his lips, eyes going puffy and red. Steph stood over him and patted his hair gently. “Shh, shh, don’t cry honey, it’s for the best.”

“But… but I wanna be big!” he insisted.

“I know honey, but that’s not going to happen. And honey you know what would be much worse than being little?”

He shook his head, getting control of his tears and wiping the snot away on his arm.

“Being a big boy trapped in a little body. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Every nappy change, every bathy, being cared for by babysitters, paraded nakey-bum in front of your old friends. That would be just awful wouldn’t it? And they’d all know just who you were too, they’d all see what a baby you’ve become.”

Tim could easily imagine it and he was terrified. “No!” he shouted. “Don’t do that!”

“I know honey, it’s awful. But that doesn’t need to happen. Just look at the silly little toddler in the mirror honey, look at that silly boy. He’s not worried about nappy changes or bathies, he doesn’t mind showing off his pee-pee. Just accept that you’re the boy in the mirror and you’ll feel so much better.”

Tim looked back into the mirror. She was right. It would be far worse to fight it and be trapped like this, unable to count to ten, to dress himself or feed himself but totally aware of who he was. He didn’t want to fight it anymore. He felt Steph’s warm hand on his shoulder, caressing it, comforting him. It felt delightful.

“That’s it sweetie pie, just look at the lovely little boy with the wiggly toesies, the nummy tootsies. What a silly boy he is, what a silly, cute little boy you are,” Steph cooed to him, kneeling at his side now.

The boy did have wiggly toes and they looked nummy. Tim listened to Steph and felt a lovely sense of relaxation, like a huge weight was lifting from his head. The boy had wiggly toes, he had wiggly toes. He could see them, he could touch them. He did. He could hold his foot and pull it and push it. He had nummy toes. He tasted them, put as many of the tiny sausage digits between his lips as he could. The toddler in the mirror had his foot in his mouth, and he was that toddler. Not a baby, a big toddler boy. He remembered that, it made him feel good.

“Are those toes as nummy as they looked?” Steph asked.

Tim looked over at her, feeling a bit silly, a bit embarrassed for a second. But he didn’t want to feel that way, he could feel himself starting to remember something big, something very important, but something that also felt bad and difficult. He didn’t want to remember, forgetting felt good, the pretty lady had said that. He wanted to forget, let it all go. And looking up into her eyes he found that he could, whatever it was he’d been feeling slipped away and it felt amazing, forgetting was so fun!

Mummy brushed his cheek and he let his tootsies go for a moment. “Um-um!” he declared, hoping he’d communicated his answer to her.

Mummy nodded, she did understand, she always understood. She loved him so much and he loved her too.

“Yes sweetie, you’re Mummy’s little toe-muncher aren’t you?” she cooed, beaming.

Timmy couldn’t follow all her words. He recognised most of them, but the way she put them together was too complex for his little head. He was just a little toddler after all. When he was big he’d be able to use words just like Mummy. But her smile and tone conveyed all he needed to know, she was happy with him. He was being a good boy.

**

Janet was nearly finished reading her novel when the door to Tim’s room opened. The anticipation had been killing her, so she instantly threw down the book and stood, anxious to see what would emerge. Steph stepped out first, looking tired but satisfied. And then Janet saw Timmy, being led by the hand out of the room. The twenty-eight year old man was still a full head taller than Steph, his broad shoulders and muscled arms in place, but it was obvious she was in charge now.

Timmy was still completely naked, a clear contrast to the fully clothed Steph. He followed after her, letting her lead him by the hand. His penis was no babyish nub either, his adult member was standing straight up, pulsing with arousal, on the verge of shooting it’s load as he toddled after Steph with a wide-legged, heavy footed gait.

Steph rubbed the man’s bare back and said, “Timmy’s feeling much better, aren’t you sweetie-pie?”

The naked man had a goofy idiotic grin on his otherwise slack face. “Goz ummy does!” he chirped, a line of spittle trickling down his chin.

Janet stared in confusion, unable to decipher the man’s baby babble.

“Yes, Timmy loves his nummy toes,” Steph clarified.

Janet’s eyes widened in understanding and she glanced down at Timmy’s bare feet, noting the coating of drool on his big toes. “Looks like he’s pretty happy with the result,” Janet joked.

Steph shared a laugh with her. “I’d say so. From the looks of him it wouldn’t take much more than a touch to have him making us lots of sticky squirts.”

“How long until we know for certain?”

“The hallucinogenic will wear off within an hour, two at the outside. But I’m certain already. He’s not coming back, it’s a one way trip. The mirror won’t work on him anymore since he’ll have lost his understanding of size, of big and little.”

Janet watched as Steph got Timmy settled with some simple toddler toys, Duplo blocks and a plastic push train that made choo-choo noises when pushed. Timmy settled down to a squat, resting on his haunches as he played, oblivious to the adult conversations, totally immersed in play, delighted by the way his new toys moved and the sounds they made. He giggled and cooed with glee as his toy train choo-chooed its way around the carpet guided by his clumsy hands.

“So this proves your theory,” Janet said with delight as they sat down to some tea while Timmy played at their feet.

“It proves that physical regression isn’t necessary for the mirror process to work,” Steph agreed.

“This is a huge breakthrough Steph!” Janet exclaimed. “I mean, as long as he doesn’t snap out of it.”

“He won’t. But I still need to test one more thing to fully prove my theory.”

“Come on Steph, you’re set. They’ll give you a he grant for this. Just think of the implications, the physical regression is insanely pricey, this could save millions.”

“True, but there is one more part of the theory to prove,” Steph replied.

“What’s that?”

“I need to show it works even when the subject knows they’re hallucinating.”

Janet nodded. “That will be a tricky one. I’m not sure that could work.”

Steph shrugged. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Janet wondered what she meant, she thought it was odd the way Steph was looking at her. It was only then she noticed Steph hadn’t touched her tea.

“Why don’t we go to Timmy’s old room,” Steph said.

**

Dr Stephanie Markey was feeling completely fulfilled as she sat in her living room, surrounded by her friends from the research lab, celebrating her newest grant approval. She’d have a full team working for her from now on. Her career future was looking bright indeed. The men and women toasted her and gushed over her breakthrough, whilst the people who’d helped her most played at their feet.

Timmy and Jan-Jan, formerly known to most of the room as Dr Janet Sykes, crept about the carpet on their hands and knees, both sporting nothing but their birthday suits for the special occasion. Tim had met most of these people at earlier work functions and Janet of course worked with them for years, but Timmy and Jan-Jan showed no flicker of bashfulness as they played with their toys at the feet of their former friends and co-workers.

Both had given into the lovely sensation of forgetting, of accepting what they saw in the mirror was real. Now Jan-Jan was perfectly happy sitting on her bare bottom at the feet of her lab assistants, gazing up at them with total innocence while she sucked on her big toe. And Timmy was more than happy, he was proud, to hop up in front of everyone, grabbing his flaccid penis and declaring, “Gotta pee-pee!” as he danced from foot to foot.

Soon he was settled on his big blue plastic potty making his tinkles in the middle of the room, beaming as he showed everyone how big he was. He just knew that one day he’d use a big person toilet and wear clothes just like all these grown-ups and Mummy did. But that day was still a long way off.

The End

Author’s Note: I know that technically this is mental AR only but placing it in that category would give away the main twist.

 

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