“Skye,” I called out as I marched up to her. “Can I have another quarter, please?”
“Gavin, what’s that mess on your shirt?” Skye asked, pointing the stain the little brat left behind from the mud and the spit.
“That’s...well…” I paused and waited for a suitable explanation to come to me.
“Was somebody picking on you?” her eyes narrowed, examining my face for any tells.
“No, just playin’” I lied, glancing to either side of me so I wouldn’t look her in the eye. How do you explain to your girlfriend that you just got in a fight with a three year old and were looking for revenge?
“That doesn’t look like playing to me,” Skye decided. “Was that little boy with the orange balloon picking on you?”
“NO!” I shook my head fiercely. “Just playin’. Can I have a quarter, now?”
“Was that little boy picking on you because you’re wearing a diaper?” she asked point blank. I went quiet. Skye could read me like a book, but not saying anything was better than confirming or denying her suspicion. “What do you want another quarter for?” Skye asked, an obvious look of mistrust across her face.
“Playin’,” Was all I told her. Skye’s mouth twitched a bit to the right side of her face. Her left eyebrow cocked up. She wasn’t buying it. She was bemused, but she wasn’t buying it.
“PWEEEEEEEAAAASE!” I pleaded in my cutest lisp, my bottom lip stuck out, hiding my mischievous grin, and my eyes went wide like a puppy dog’s, concealing my malefic intent.
“Heh,” she chuckled lightly. “Alright kiddo,” she reached back into her purse. “I’ll let you have a shot. But you call me if you need any help.”
“Okay,” I quickly nodded. As if I’d need help teaching some punk brat a lesson.
I took the quarter from Skye’s hand and put it into the animal food vendor. There was a slight grinding sound and a satisfying click as I turned the stainless steel knob and my ears danced with joy at the sound of feed dropping down into the little compartment beneath.
I opened my right hand and used my left to lift the little metal flap on the feeder. It was like a gumball machine, really. Little bits of brown kibble, good for pigs and sheep and chickens-but especially billy goats-flowed into my waiting palm.
Next, I crinkled across the petting pen, taking long strides to cover the most ground. There was no way I was going to be able to approach the kid silently, with all the noise the diaper was making. My only hope would be to act fast, cover a lot of ground quickly, and hope that the plastic in his training pants crinkled enough so that he didn’t notice my approach.
He was feeding the baby goat that I had been feeding earlier; blissfully unaware of my approach That thing was a total bottomless pit. Good. It seemed providence was on my side this one time. I slid up right behind the kid, and squatted down on my haunches. Kibble in hand, I shook it by the brat’s left hip for the goat to see.
It didn’t at first, as it ate the snot nosed spitter’s kibble greedily, but then out of the corner of it’s eye, it saw movement and jerked its head towards my hand.
“Huh?” the brat stared at the kid. “Hey, goat, what are you doin?” The goat started nudging past my preschool aged antagonist for my hand, eager for more food. With the precision of a pickpocket I slipped the kibble into his shorts pocket, and stepped away.
“Back off, billy!” the brat shouted. The baby goat, deaf to the little bastard’s demands, stuck it’s muzzle in deep.
“Hey, stop it!” he demanded. The goat paid no mind. It had kibble to eat. I stood back and watched, my fingers crossed, waiting for what I hoped would be the inevitable to happen.
The little bastard’s shorts hung in the baby goat’s mouth. Now, just like me, the bully in the making stood naked from the waist down, save for his plastic backed undies, his mouth agape.
“Chaz, baby!” a curvy woman with tight, frizzy blonde curls and an obvious boob job ran up to the kid. “Are you alright, Chaz?”
Chaz? Chaz?! No wonder the kid was such a jerk at the ripe old age of four-ish; he had a douche name! Why did that woman look so familiar? Hadn’t I seen her before?
“My...my...my” Chaz gasped, fighting back tears and failing. “My pants!”
“I know baby,” the woman rubbed his back. “I know. Mommy will take care of it.”
“Mommy?!” Chaz looked confused. “What do you mea-?”
“YOU!” she turned around to face me. “Don’t think I didn’t see that little stunt you pulled.”
“Me?!” I looked around nervously. “What did I do?”
“Don’t give me that look,” Chaz’s mom wagged her finger in my face. “Just because you’re allowed to walk around without pants, doesn’t mean everyone has to!”
“The hell?!” I exclaimed “That’s not why I…”
“So you did do it!” She cut me off. She was so angry, everything but her obviously fake breasts were shaking. “Well, mister, I think it’s time someone taught you a lesson.”
With surprising quickness, she grabbed my legs with her outside hand, and grabbed my waist around the back, picking me up so that I was bent over, and suspended by my midsection.
Holy shit, what kind of steroids did this woman do?! Did I piss off an ex wrestler or something?!
I kicked and flailed, trying to get this madwoman to let me go. I thrashed against her, barely managing to squirm, while she squeezed me harder and harder in response. The ground came a little closer, and I thought I was about to be freed, but no such luck.
My oppressor took a knee and shifted my weight around so that I was laying across her upturned knee. My knees hit the dirt, and I squirmed and kicked, but I was doing little more than spinning my tires. My squirming transformed into shuddering as the realization that I couldn’t escape sunk in and became reality.
I looked up and saw Chaz, smiling with glee, eyes burning with anger and hatred at me.
“It’s past time you get disciplined, little man,” I heard her announce; manic, sadistic joy in her voice. Still shaking in fear, I looked back over my shoulder, and saw her hand raise into the air. Was she serious? Was I about to be spanked?!
A cry rose up in my throat, unbidden as pure animal panic welled up inside me
“MAAAA!” my voice erupted out as the blonde bimbo swung down towards my padded ass. I had meant it as a kind of war cry-something to draw power from; maybe make a final push to escape or blunt the pain. But it was more mewling than anything.
If I was lucky, she’d hit there instead of my legs; at least the diaper would absorb some of the impact. I slammed my eyes shut bracing for impact.
“That’s enough.” Skye’s beautiful voice rang out, clear as a bell. I opened my eyes and saw her, reaching out and taking the other woman’s wrist.
Chaz’s mother screeched “Let go you little-”
“You’re not gonna want to finish that sentence, honey.” Skye cut her off, her eyes burning with an intensity that I had never seen before. “Gavin’s mine. You have no right.” I felt the grip around my body loosen a little, and then let up completely. I wasn’t being pinned to this woman’s knee anymore “Get up, Gavi-poo. This lady and I need to have a talk.”
Trembling, I did as I was told and rose up on my own two feet, backing away quickly, and hiding behind Skye for cover. Skye released her grip on the other woman’s wrist.
“Do you know what your Gavi-poo did?” Chaz’s mom spat.
“Yeah, I know,” Skye answered. “And it was wrong. I’m sorry about that. I’ll be happy to pay you for the shorts. Do you know what yours did?”
“What?” Chaz’s mother cocked her head to the side.
“He was making fun of Gavin’s diapers,”
“HE WHAT?” Chaz’s mom turned her gaze on her little boy.
“And,” Skye hammered in, “I saw him spit in Gavin’s face, too.”
“Did he, now?” the rage was now directed at her own child instead of me. The volcano was getting ready to blow.
“Uh...no…” Chaz mumbled, looking like a cornered rat.
“I know when you’re lying, Chaz,” the woman was shaking again. “I’ve always known when you lie.
“I’ll let you get to that,” Skye began walking away, with me in tow.
“AND YOU’RE WET AGAIN!” I heard her shriek as Skye walked us out of the pen.
“Come on Gavi-kins.” Skye directed me away as Chaz and his insane mom became so much white noise. “Let’s go have fun somewhere else.”
Stories of Age/Time Transformation