The AR Story Archive
Stories of Age/Time Transformation
by: personalias | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 8, 2017
Chapter Description: Kelsey is minding her own business, studying, when the strangest things start to happen.
3.
Kelsey
Kelsey sat in the courtyard by the old "wishing fountain"- its collection of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters glimmering in the midday sun- studying. "When tweetle beetles fight, it"s called a tweetle beetle battle. And when they battle in a puddle, it"s a tweetle beetle puddle battle. And when the tweetle beetles battle with paddles in a puddle, they call it a tweetle beetle puddle paddle battle. And when beetles battle beetles in a puddle battle paddle"¦" she stopped. "Wait," Kelsey frowned. "That"s not right"¦when the tweetle beetle battle in a puddle with the paddles"¦? When beetles paddle battle bee"¦." She groaned before finally giving up and checking her copy of Fox In Sox.
Her eyes danced over the tongue twister script for what must have been the two dozenth time that afternoon alone. A deep breath later, both Kelsey"s eyes and book were closed. "And when the tweetle beetles battle with paddles in a puddle, they call it a tweetle beetle puddle paddle battle." Her eyes opened, and she smiled with satisfaction. "Nailed it," she whispered to herself.
Content for the moment, Kelsey put the Dr. Seuss book back down on the cobblestones, and picked up her bottle of bubbles. With the practiced ease of a lifetime of repetition, Kelsey unscrewed the white lid and reached in and pulled out the soaking, sudsy wet bubble wand. Her lips pursed together and blew, sending dozens of tiny bubbles sailing up into the air.
The frizzy haired college senior watched, almost mesmerized as the little suds were carried by the wind to their inevitable doom. Two bumped into each other and formed a single, larger bubble. Two more collided and instead of making a bigger bubble, merged into a two-headed conjoined bubble.
Dipping the wand into the solution once more, Kelsey blew again, this time slowly. As intended, a single large bubble formed and just barely broke off from the wand, becoming a proper sphere about the size of a baseball for the few seconds it was in existence. Bubble blowing was like a sort of meditation for Kelsey, if not an outright addiction. It calmed her; it rewarded her; it made her feel accomplished. The juvenile activity had gotten her through many a study session.
"Just memorize three more facts about dissociative identity disorder, and you can blow some bubbles," she"d promise herself. "Just remember the differences between Freud"s child development theories versus Piaget"s and you can blow some bubbles." It was surprisingly effective for her, and Kelsey had attained enough balance in herself to not overindulge or push herself too hard.
Kelsey had her eyes set on becoming a clinical psychologist, and was only a few precious weeks away from earning her bachelor"s degree in psychology. Not that a bachelor"s degree was the endgame, but it was another rung on the ladder to climb for her eventual PhD. It was, however, still worth taking time to bask in her accomplishment.
The kid"s book that she was committing to memory was decidedly not for her degree. This semester, she had elected to take an intro into drama and performing arts course, mostly for grins. And why not? Kelsey had already taken most every other psychology class available to her. It was time to let her hair down and get some more "Gen-Ed" stuff, and become more "well rounded."
It was an acting course geared for non-acting majors, with the on paper goal of enticing non-acting majors to change their field of study. In practice, it was a course for a T.A. to teach so that they could get their Master"s Degree.
This semester had been mostly different hokey acting exercises, a required viewing of the campus"s production of Fiddler on the Roof, and selected monologue readings. For her final though, Kelsey was required to read, memorize, and recite (with appropriate dramatic inflections) a poem of her choice. A coin flip into the fountain determined that Kelsey would be memorizing the entirety of Fox in Socks instead of a passage from Where the Sidewalk Ends.
That was fine by Kelsey. She liked Silverstein well enough, and he had a kind of fanciful whimsy about his work, but he was the Lope de Vega to Seuss"s William Shakespeare. Lope de Vega had written some pretty interesting stuff and was a contemporary of Shakespeare, but before this semester Kelsey wouldn"t have had any idea who he was; and that was kind of the point.
Her classmates might know Shel Silverstein; they"d definitely know Dr. Seuss. Also, how could she pass up the chance to recite arguably the world"s longest tongue twister? By this time tomorrow, she"d have all fifty-seven stanzas memorized. Boom! Winner: Kelsey. The only difficult choice left to her was whether or not she"d speak in funny voices to differentiate Fox from Knox. Decisions, decisions.
Kelsey had had a hard time growing up. That is not to say that her life had been particularly difficult; both of her parents loved her very much and provided for her anything she needed. It was more like she had a difficult time growing out of the different phases and interests of her peers.
The comedy, as well as the technical artistry, of shows like Sesame Street still kept her attention, and she still squee"d with joy every time a pop-culture reference was made or a celebrity made a cameo with the puppets. The bed in her dorm room was covered with so many stuffed animals she didn"t need pillows. To Kelsey, coloring was an art form in and of itself. All of the dresses she wore for "going out" were frilly and cumbersome to the point of impracticality. She didn"t own a single T-shirt that didn"t have a cartoon character on it non-ironically.
Even though she was in her twenties, Kelsey was regularly mistaken as much younger; high-school at best. Her wardrobe didn"t help remedy that misconception. Her petite build and small stature didn"t make things any easier; her parents had long joked that her hair was the biggest thing about her. Carrying around her student I.D. and driver"s license had always been a necessity; one that was as second nature to her as the fluid ease of dipping a plastic wand into bubble solution and letting loose a flight of soapy globules.
The college senior just didn"t see the point in what her parents called "phases" or "growing out" of something. Things like diapers and cribs were fine to cast off; independence was a good thing. But how did liking cartoons and dolls and Silly Putty somehow make her less mature when her friends had moved beyond such things? How did taking her Tinkerbell night light to school make her more infantile?
The short answer: it didn"t. For Kelsey, acquiring new tastes and seeking out new experiences was no reason to get rid of other interests that were still perfectly stimulating. Kelsey drank from both beer bottles and sippy cups. Her Netflix history had Stranger Things and Curious George back to back. She was studying psychology and memorizing Dr. Seuss. Because why not?
Content with her most recent bout of bubble blowing, Kelsey stowed the wand back in the bottle, and screwed the cap back on tight. She took a moment and examined her outfit: A dark purple shirt with Daisy Duck on it, obscured by the bib of her shortalls. This did nothing to make her look more "grown-up", the garment made her A-cup breasts all but non-existent, but that wasn"t particularly a concern for Kelsey. She was comfortable, she looked cute with plenty of leg to show off, and if she bent over, no one would have the slightest chance at taking a peek at her Days of the Week panties.
As she sat next to the so-called "Wishing Fountain", other students milled about the courtyard, meeting up with each other, going to or from class, and generally just being oblivious to her presence. A tiny girl lounging in kid"s clothes was hardly a spectacle on campus, and Kelsey had been seen doing it so often that she was practically part of the scenery herself. Even the freshmen had lost that look of wonder and (perhaps) slight hint of judgement in their eyes at looking at her.
If someone really wanted to people watch, the evangelical would-be preachers across the street from campus were enough entertainment, with their big signs and checklists for who was going to Hell for not living exactly like them in every way, shape and form. If you weren"t entertained by their ranting, you could be pleasantly distracted by the hecklers who were inevitably drawn to them. If you weren"t amused by the two heaping doses of negative energy just throwing gasoline on each other"s fire, both sides too stubborn to throw up their hands and go about their day, you were doing it wrong.
The college senior was about to pick up her copy of Fox In Socks and start hitting the books again, when a shadow blocked her sunlight. Someone was looking over her. Shielding her eyes, Kelsey looked up into the face of decidedly tall young woman. "Hey, whatcha readin"?"
Kelsey looked up and shrugged nonchalantly. "Fox In Socks," she replied, before glancing back down at the smiling Seussian fox on the cover. What she had expected was an "oh", or a "okay", and then the other girl would walk off, leaving Kelsey to her memorization. Worst case scenario, Kelsey imagined she"d get a "why" and then she"d have to explain the acting class.
Instead she got: "Neato! I love that book! It"s the bestest!"
Kelsey looked back up at the stranger, pleasantly surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah, it"s my favorite." The new girl made a show of clearing her throat. "And when tweetle beetles battle with paddles in a puddle, they call it a tweetle beetle puddle paddle battle." Wow! This girl had memorized the passage already! Kelsey climbed to her feet, smiling the whole way up. The sun out of her eyes, she got a good look at the newcomer. A puffball of red hair poked out of an otherwise well groomed head of hair tied back into a ponytail. Better yet, Kelsey saw that this newcomer was also wearing shortalls, the bib blocking out what had to be Minnie Mouse. The only other difference was this new girl wore khaki instead of denim. Could this really be a kindred spirit?
"And when beetles battle beetles in a puddle paddle battle and the beetle battle puddle is a puddle in a bottle," Kelsey continued the recitation, "they call this a tweetle beetle bottle puddle paddle battle muddle." The new girl slapped her knee and giggled so hard it seemed as though her freckles might fall off.
The new girl kept going, saying the lines through her own laughter. "And when beetles"¦hee hee"¦ fight these battles"¦heh"¦ in a bottle with their paddles"¦hahahahaha..!"
Inspired and mentally on fire, Kelsey kept it going. "And the bottle"s on a poodle, and the poodle"s eating noodles they call this a-"
"MUDDLE PUDDLE TWEETLE POODLE BEETLE NOODLE BOTTLE PADDLE BATTLE!" the two finished together before spontaneously collapsing, giggling in each other"s arms in a warm embrace. How amazing this felt, to finally have someone else to talk to about this kind of stuff with. It was something Kelsey had never known she had always wanted.
"My name"s Kelsey," the senior offered the hand to her new, much taller friend.
The new girl in the khaki shortalls took her hand. "I know," she replied, "My name"s Megan."
Megan?
Megan?!
Megan the R.A.? Megan: Organizer of lame movie nights and destroyer of keg parties? Everybody"s- not-fun-twenty-two-year-old-mom-away-from-home? That Megan?! Kelsey held her breath and squinted. It was her! Kelsey hadn"t recognized the other girl with a smile on her face, never mind the red hair; under normal circumstances Megan dyed her hair jet black. Granted, shortalls were just as about as modesty preserving as the kind of stuff Megan normally wore, but never in a million years would Kelsey have accused Megan of being"¦fun.
"Oh"¦Megan...Megan!" Kelsey jumped, her genuine smile of pleasure turning into a rictus grin of anxiety. "Hiiiii!" Feeling incredibly awkward and unsure of what else to do, Kelsey gestured around the courtyard and the surrounding dorms. "So good to see you here"¦."
Brought out of her own little world, Kelsey noticed that others were dressed just as juvenilely as she typically preferred to be. Girls skipped along in rainbow colored skirts and matching bows in their hair. A couple boys she recognized were in shortalls as well and were toting Teddy bears, besides. A neighbor Kelsey often passed in the hallways was walking past them sucking on a pacifier and wearing baby blue footie pajamas that looked soft. And they were all walking in the same direction. "Good to see you, too," Megan replied, not noticing or not caring about Kelsey"s non-verbal communication of total discombobulation.
Kelsey kept looking around. So many people"¦all dressed like her. What was going on? "Is there some kind of party going on here?"
"Naw," the taller girl shook her head. "Parties have those fancy hats with the string that goes under your chin and cake and stuff." She pointed in the direction that the other college kids were going. "But they"ve got a bunch of fun stuff on the playground over there. You wanna come?"
"Playground?"
"Yeah," Megan nodded. "Bouncy houses and slides and stuff. They even have a ball pit."
"Ball pit!" the shorter girl squeaked. Kelsey could handle people acting a little more"¦like her if it meant a ball pit. No further questions, Your Honor. "Let"s go!"
The two young women broke off into a run, the bottle of bubbles and the Fox In Socks book completely forgotten as their feet pounded on the cobblestone floor. Sure enough, Megan had been telling the truth, there was a playground just around the corner in the gigantic central commons area of the court yard. Instead of the various cliques and social clubs that meandered around the space, there was an entire play set: Monkey bars, swings, slides, merry go rounds, and yes, ball pits were all accounted for. Older adults in their late twenties and early thirties were manning the equipment, supervising the swings and bounce house and what not, but everyone Kelsey"s age was playing with gusto. The college senior didn"t know how or why this was happening or what campus group had sponsored this, and didn"t care right now.
"Come on, let"s go!" Kelsey motioned to her suddenly best friend, and broke off in a run, only to stop a few steps in when she realized that Megan wasn"t following her.
Megan had stopped in her tracks and was clutching her belly. "Hold on," Megan grunted. "Gotta"¦poop."
"Oh," Kelsey shrugged, "fair enough." Kelsey turned her back to scan for a toilet. Now where were the bathrooms? Kelsey couldn"t quite remember, having a bit of a shy bladder anyways. Needing to heed nature"s call typically meant Kelsey was headed back home to relieve herself. She turned around back to Megan, sure that the R.A. would know where the nearest public restroom would be, but Megan hadn"t moved from that spot.
The taller girl was squatting down, her butt pushing out in the most exaggerated slow motion twerk. Her face was a mask of concentration. "What are"¦?" Kelsey began to ask, but she didn"t have time to finish the question.
"POOOOOOOPIE!"
Kelsey watched in horror as rude, flatulent sounds burst out of Megan"s backside, a distinct lump forming in the back of the taller girl"s pants for an instant. Bile rose up in the back of Kelsey"s throat when the smell hit her nose. Kelsey hadn"t realized it before, but there was a decided puffiness all around Megan"s nether regions that was vaguely distinguishable even through the cover of the shortalls. The strain left Megan"s face, and then she stood up to her full height as if nothing had happened. Megan looked toward Kelsey and said, "Okay. All done." She sighed with relief before enthusiastically adding, "Let"s go play!"
"Did you just poop?" Kelsey asked, aghast.
"Yeah," Megan nodded. "I really had to go." Kelsey waited for more of an explanation, but Megan wasn"t volunteering any.
Kelsey was so puzzled and disgusted she felt she might go cross eyed. "You knew you had to poop?"
Everybody"s- not-fun-twenty-two-year-old-mom-away-from-home seemed to take this as a compliment. "Thank you, my mommy says I"m advanced." She smiled proudly.
"You just pooped yourself," Kelsey pointed out.
"I"ll get changed later. First I wanna go play."
"You"re wearing a diaper," Kelsey"s tone was more than a little accusatory.
"Yeah," Megan agreed, completely missing Kelsey"s tone and point. "That"s what we wear."
Kelsey scoffed. "We?" There was no we. There was Kelsey, and then there was THIS loon.
"Forever babies." Megan replied. Megan wasn"t alone in being diapered either, it seemed. There were other kids"¦other men and women her age dressed even more childishly than she preferred. She saw onesies, not footie pajamas, but shirts that buttoned at the crotch on a few people. One girl in particular had ruffles on her bottom, the leg gathers of a diaper not quite covered up by the big baby garment. Others, Kelsey noticed were running around in just T-shirts and diapers. One or two didn"t even have a t-shirt, and those were girls.
What was going on?
"I"m not wearing a"¦" Kelsey gestured down to herself. Her eyes glanced downward to compare her state of dress to her peer"s and paused. That"s when she noticed the padded bulge encasing her, noticeable even through her sturdy denim shortalls. She bent over, hearing the distinct crinkle the movement created, and traced line of buttons running along the inseam of both legs and up between her legs. Little glimpses of something white and puffy shown through the folds between buttons.
Crotch snaps? It couldn"t be!
Kelsey stood back up, unable to look at herself. Her cute little outfit had turned into something meant for toddlers with the appearance of just a few buttons. That"s when she noticed that her stance was just a little bit wider than it normally was thanks to the special underwear wrapped around her ass. ""¦diaper?!"
How had that gotten there? How had any of this happened? She was about to ask the R.A. more questions, but the taller girl had already walked off, poopy pants and all. Kelsey wanted to run after her, and call out for help. To make some sense of the nonsense that her life had suddenly been turned into.
There was just one problem.
Kelsey had to poop, too.
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"¦and yawned contentedly before going back to sleep.
Better Late Than Never
by: personalias | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 8, 2017
Stories of Age/Time Transformation