The AR Story Archive
Stories of Age/Time Transformation
by: personalias | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 8, 2017
Chapter Description: Dakota gets proposed to by her (for now) boyfriend at his birthday party.
2.
Dakota
The music had stopped. People had stopped eating and put down their pieces of cake. Conversations had stopped. Brendan was down on one knee, looking up at her; a little black box in his outstretched hand. Everyone in the room was looking at them. "Dakota, I met you last year, a few days after my twenty-first birthday. I didn"t think it could have gotten any better being twenty-one, and then you came into my life. Now, will you give me the greatest present that I could ever dream of? Dakota Stevens, will you marry me?" Dakota"s boyfriend opened the little box to reveal a diamond ring that was"¦underwhelming.
Damnit. So that"s what the cooler"s full of champagne that Dakota had caught a glimpse of in the kitchen were for. Dakota looked around the room: all of Brendan"s friends and relatives all smiling, hopeful faces, his mother was already tearing up a bit. And in that silent, beautiful moment, Dakota laughed.
It wasn"t the blushing, flattered, nervous laughter of a girl overcome with emotion. It was a grating, tittering laughter; an incredulous laughter at being given a low-ball offer; a genuine mean-girl laugh. "You"re sweet," she sighed, turning around on her heel, "but no."
Every syllable of her rejection bounced through the high roofed country club house, through the halls, up the stairs. Not a soul moved. No one did anything. Anything at all. Faces were practically turning blue from people holding their breath.
Brendan got up, choosing wisely to maintain at least a scrap of dignity by being on his feet. "But"¦ why?"
Dakota walked to the nearby guestroom, where they"d fooled around on more than one occasion while his parents slept and gave Brendan a glance over her shoulder. "We need to talk," she said, "in private." Like a good little puppy, Brendan followed behind her.
She was sitting on edge of the bed, one perfect leg crossed over the other, while Brendan came in and closed the door behind him. "What the"¦?" he tried to ask, only to be silenced by her upraised finger. For a moment there was only more silence; only the hum of the air conditioning coming in through the vents could be heard. When the nervous chatter restarted, followed by more party music, she nodded and allowed him to speak. "What the heck?!" he demanded, sounding both angry and heartbroken. "Everybody I know is out there! My mom and dad were watching! I"ve been planning this for weeks!" His voice was soft, but accusing; his gestures quick and wild, but impotent.
The hot blonde pulled the hem of her tight, apple red dress down to just above her crossed knees. "It"s not you, it"s me," Dakota said briskly and immediately regretted it. She hadn"t meant to have THAT talk with him"¦not yet"¦especially not with at his own birthday party. She"d have to leave then and wouldn"t have anything to do for the rest of the day.
Brendan, for his part, looked absolutely devastated. He looked like he might actually cry, poor thing. "You"re breaking up with me?"
His (for now) girlfriend made a show of lowering her jaw to the floor in surprise and then stood up. "What? Honey, baby, pookie, nooooo. I didn"t mean it to come out that way." She stood up and clicked the few steps and took him into a hug, making sure to squeeze him tightly and rub his back. He liked that, she knew. The rubbing motion soothed him, and he was easily distracted by the feeling of her boobs against his chest.
"That came out wrong," she whispered. "I love you."
The hug was quickly broken, with Brendan trying to look her in the eyes. (Damn it!) His anger had lessened visibly, but only hurt (rather than horniness) was filling the void. "I love you too," he said. "But I thought you wanted to get married."
"Someday," Dakota replied, "but not anytime soon."
Now Brendan was offended. "Why not?"
"I want to live a little more before I settle down and do the whole domestic goddess thing. I wanna be a party girl." This was true enough, for Dakota"s purposes. Deep down, she knew that when she met Mister (or hell, even Miss) Right, she"d know and throw herself at them with complete abandon. Brendan wasn"t Mister Right, though; just Mister Right Now. (Right now was still pretty good, however. No reason to spoil it.)
"I"m not good enough for you," Brendan choked back a sob. "Is that it?"
Again, Dakota hugged him and rubbed his back, and began to whisper sweet lies into his ear. "No." (Yes.) "You"re fine." He was the son of the some very well-to-do people in town. One of the richest families in the county, actually. That was the thing though; they were rich"¦in town. Brendan and his family were big fish in a tiny little pond. Could Brendan afford to have her as a stay at home wife on his trust fund money? Likely, as long as he finished Med School and worked his ass off. What about the twice yearly vacations to exotic beaches? Probably. For a year or two more at least. But then they"d have to stop, and she"d be stuck"¦here"¦.in this little podunk town.
It wasn"t even Miami. Even Orlando seemed glorious by comparison. Life was an adventure, and Dakota so badly wanted to go on it. Was she mooching from and using Brendan and by extension, his family? Objectively? Yes. Did she feel guilty about this? No. Even Christopher Columbus needed patronage from Queen Isabella, and it wasn"t like Brendan hadn"t gotten something he"d been wanting (and lost something he"d wanted to lose) in the process.
Dakota wasn"t ready to move her relationship time table up though, and a sulking, heart broken birthday boy wouldn"t do at all. Time for a change of tactics. "Do you have any idea how much planning a wedding takes? Or how much of that is the bride"s responsibility? You"d get a bachelor party."
"You"d get a bachelorette party," Brendan countered, again pulling away, albeit this time a bit less forcefully.
"And plan a bridal shower, and book a florist, and a photographer, and plan decorations, and manage the arch rental, and catering, and seating arrangements, and invitations and save the dates and all the thank you cards and cake." She hammered home each "and" with an index finger poking him in the chest. "Could you even manage to plan your own birthday party?"
Stricken dumb, Brendan just shook his head. Dakota favored him with a kiss on the cheek before pressing her tits against his chest again. His breathing had become heavier, less panicked, and he was all but panting in her ear, a sure sign that he was turned on. Even Dakota was more than a little aroused. Her nipples were so hard it felt like the padding of her bra did nothing at all to conceal them. She might as well not be wearing a bra at all. "Why don"t we have a little party in here before we go back out?" she hissed seductively in his ear. The boy"s erection was evident against her thigh, but there was something off about it, like there was something in the way of it, (likely his own bruised ego making it harder to get it up). For good measure Dakota gave his butt a playful squeeze, and drew back her hand in shock as she grabbed a lot more than she had expected. (What kind of underwear was that? There was something oddly cushioned about the feel. Had he gained weight or something?)
New sounds from outside the little guest room caused her ears to prick up and birthed new questions to get in the way of her train of thought.
From outside, the words "You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out, you put your left foot in and you shake-it-all-about," wafted in.
"Are they playing the Hokey Pokey?" Dakota wondered aloud.
Brendan nodded. "Uh-huh," he said, "it"s my favoritest song in the whole world." He looked back over his shoulder, almost longingly towards the door, as if he were afraid he was missing something. Favorite song? What was up with that? Dakota could have sworn Brendan"s favorite song was "Closing Time". She had tuned out a lot of his talking over the last year, but that song and how it"s actually about being born was one of his regular bits of trivia he always peppered in. Brendan broke off the hug, and moved for the door.
The fuck?
"Wait." Dakota called out, sounding more desperate than she had meant to, (she was not about to be beaten by a stupid baby song). "Why don"t we do our own little Hokey Pokey?" A perverted little smile crossed Brendan"s face as he turned back around.
"Okay. What do you wanna do first?" he asked, excitement practically leaking out of him.
She nuzzled his forehead. "For starters," Dakota told him, kicking off her heels, "take off your pants."
"But that"s not..." Brendan started to say, sounding confused. (Seriously?)
A finger to his lips silenced him, instantly. "It"s a special kind of Hokey Pokey, baby." A beat. "Get it?"
"Uh-huh," Brendan nodded. For some reason Dakota doubted that. There was no liquor on his breath, but Dakota suspected that Brendan had had a few before his failed attempt to entrap her. The liquid courage was just now kicking in, it seemed.
"Take off your pants," Dakota repeated, going down to her knees.
"I"¦I don"t know how..."
The little gold digger was not about to ruin her momentum and lose her temper at the dunce. If she could screw him at his own birthday party, while the Hokey Pokey (counted among sexual arousal"s most powerful adversaries) was playing in the background, she could do anything. Even if she had to settle for sucking him off, she"d just remember it for later and make him pay her back double.
She slipped her fingers into the waistband (the surprisingly flexible waistband; lots of elastic) of his khakis and yanked them down to the floor. Her crystal blue eyes looked up from the puddle of fabric around his ankles and up to his boxers, only to bug out at what he was actually wearing.
Dakota stood up and jumped back in one fluid motion. "Is"¦is that a diaper?!" She spat the last word out as if it were a kind of slur. Brendan looked down at the bulky plastic garment wrapped around his loins.
"Uh-huh," was all he replied, before popping his thumb into his mouth. It wasn"t even an adult diaper, it had decorations of clouds and balloons on it. For all intents and purposes it was something you"d expect to see on a two year old, not a twenty-two year old. "Whyyyyyy?" he asked; his tone a combination of playful and nonchalant as if Dakota had asked him if the sky was blue or if water was wet, (speaking of wet, was the damn thing sagging a little bit?).
The young woman, once feeling in control even when surrounded by strangers expecting a "Yes" from a hackneyed marriage proposal, was completely out of her element. Is this why he proposed to her at his birthday? Was he some kind of gross fetishist and this was his way of telling her? Too many things made the worst kind of sense in this moment, Brendan"s obsession with "Closing Time" among them.
"Fo now wha?" the freak mumbled around his thumb, shuffling towards her with his pants around his ankles, the diaper, (definitely sagging and wet) swaying between his thighs.
"Get away from me!" Dakota shrieked, backing up as she pushed him. In near perfect symmetry, the two fell back in opposite directions: He fell to the floor, a squishy thump as his padded backside hit the carpet. She fell to the bed, her knees buckling upon contact; the momentum carrying her to her back. As if on reflex, her legs went ceiling ward, causing the front of her dress to fall up past her hips.
There was a moment of stunned silence from each of them. Then they both screamed; his, the wail of a toddler who"d just fallen; hers, the shouts of someone who was losing their mind. Dakota was wearing a diaper, same as his.
Confused and panicking, she scrambled to her knees and looked down at her waist; not even having to lift the hem of her dress to see the bulky white thing poking out from underneath. Balloons and stars, flowers and clouds, all childishly drawn, mocked her from below her belly button. It crinkled like a million sanitary pads"¦and it was getting warmer.
"I"m peeing!" she screeched, clawing uselessly at her crotch; trying to hold it in, instead of going for the tapes of her diaper. (What? Her diaper? Don"t be ridiculous. Urine marked or not, it was not HER diaper.) Preoccupied with staunching the flow of urine she was involuntarily releasing into what used to be her panties, Dakota failed to notice that her dress was shrinking, or that the two dainty "hanger helpers" sewed into the back of the dress were snaking their way up to her head. By the time the stream inside her disposable underwear had ended, her dress was just a T-shirt.
When a picture of Dora the Explorer manifested on the only thing covering her chest, Dakota clutched her head, as if she could squeeze the insanity out of her own skull. Her hands clasped upon two pig-tails. With Brendan still crying, and her own wet diaper hampering her movement and causing no end of distraction, Dakota stood up on the mattress and looked to the floor for her shoes. They were gone. Just vanished, while her boyfriend blubbered on the floor with his pants around his ankles and his diaper swelling. (Where were his shoes, too, come to think of it?)
The door opened and Dakota froze in place, feeling, (and looking) like a complete idiot. A middle aged woman stepped in, her face a mixture of curiosity and worry.
"Mommy!" Brendan yelled. All tears stopped as if turning off a switch.
"Mrs. Jay!" Dakota began. "I can explain!" (Not in a million years at this rate.)
Brendan"s mother surveyed the room and then looked down at her son, still in a very compromising position. "Are you two playing in here?"
Brendan nodded, enthusiastically. "Uh-huh," he agreed. "We"re doin" the Hokey Pokey!"
"You are?" Mrs. Jay asked, without really asking; the same way a person might ask a small child, (or a mental midget). "We were just doing that outside." His mother helped Brendan up. "But why are your pants down, little monkey?"
Dakota"s (apparently now baby) boyfriend pointed at her and said, "It was Dakota"s idea. We was doing a special Hokey Pokey." Dakota"s cheeks now matched the color of her T-shirt perfectly. She clapped her hands to her face, trying desperately to hide her humiliation. "I hadda take my pants off. Dakota helped. It was the rules." Brendan spoke with zero shame and absolute seriousness.
His mother, who was busy yanking up Brendan"s pants for him, cast a wry smile and knowing look at Dakota. "Did she, now?" Dakota wasn"t sure if that was some form of approval, scorn, neither, or both. If she hadn"t just emptied her bladder seconds before, she might have likely peed a little in fright. "Well how about we all go play with all of your little friends, instead of hiding in our guest room?"
"Okay!" Brendan agreed. He ran out the door, leaving Dakota standing on the bed in a wet diaper, quivering in fear of his mother.
"Dakota," Mrs. Jay said with only a hint of sternness in her voice. "Get off the bed, you naughty girl." Without thinking, Dakota obeyed. The crinkling of the diaper and the distinct waddle in her gait making every tiny step more embarrassing and more complicated than it had any right to be.
The older woman, a blonde herself (but not a natural blonde, obviously), reached for Dakota"s hand as she stepped back onto the carpet, helping her down. "You forgot this," Mrs. Jay dug into her pocket, producing a ring pop. The red candy on the end of the plastic ring was infinitely bigger than the little rock Brendan had offered her. "It"s not nice to refuse party favors."
"I"m"¦sorry?" Dakota choked out, feeling dizzy and confused as her boyfriend"s Mommy slipped the candy ring around her finger.
"I know you are. Come along, Dakota. Let"s go play."
Somewhere very far away, a being older than Earth itself- a god in some cultures- smiled dreamily at the little blue and green marble off in the distance.
Better Late Than Never
by: personalias | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 8, 2017
Stories of Age/Time Transformation