Loving Care: The Stories of Lola Trechlyn

Chapter 4
IV - Last Chance

Chapter Description: F on M, Mind Control, Physical AR, Forced MM Homosexuality, Mental AR. / Originally published on May 24th, 2007.

=WRONG FROM WHITE=

Only fools use “coincidence,” “fate,” and “instinct” with interchangeable disregard. To wit, it was mere coincidence that the names of Travis, Tyler, and Tate -- the three closest and longest-running friends at Willowbrook High -- happened to be so similar. Fate, however, brought them to their girlfriends; Carla, Debra, and Marta, respectively. All that remains in our theorem is instinct. And indeed it was instinct that led the three 18-year-old seniors, pranksters all, to adulterate their girlfriends’ Smirnoff Ices at one of the high school students’ many illicit house-sitting parties. Derived from all three elements, we come to consequence.

For it was not so sinister a substance as GHB which found its way into those three tainted potables. Castor oil -- harmless, innocent, yet so effective -- served as the old lace. And it was when the Friday night house party was in full swing, when fully one-quarter of the Willowbrook student body were dancing, drinking, and smoking their cares away, that the fruits of our three boys’ labors came to pass.

Travis, Tyler, and Tate exchanged knowing glances as they watched looks of confusion and pain cross their girlfriends’ faces. 17-year-old Carla let out a fearful gasp and ran for the only available restroom, taking her place as the fourth individual in line. Debra was not so lucky; she simply doubled over on the dance floor, let out a moan of anguish, and strained every muscle in her body as she forced a mess of crap into her designer jeans, right in front of everybody. The students, distracted by the spectacle, looked over in shock as the gorgeous 15-year-old helplessly dumped into her pants, the back of her jeans expanding and turning a dark brown as warm, sticky stool ran down her legs. Marta, too, ran for the bathroom, but she knew it was hopeless as the 16-year-old felt the stinking mess burst from her butt and smear down the length of her freshly-shaven legs. Carla soon followed; she had only moved two spaces ahead in line before she simply dropped to her knees in surrender, helplessly pushing the entire contents of her bowels into her sexy pink panties. The softball-sized load was entirely noticeable through her dress, and the girl gagged at the feeling of shit dangling between her feminine thighs.

Laughter filled the room. The girls, humiliated, were crying. And the boys, their ultimate prank pulled off with consummate perfection, clinked their beers together in toast. They had done it.

Immature, yes; but senior pranks always are.

-The Following Night-

“You are all sons-of-bitches,” Carla declared. “Stupid, immature infants. The girls and I were talking about your sick prank all day and we’ve concluded that you’ve gone too far. This is it. We should all leave you right now.”

Travis, Tyler, and Tate, lined up on the couch in Carla’s living room, hung their heads in shame. They hadn’t intended on annihilating the pride of their true loves. They had only wanted a little fun. Ill-conceived fun, yes... but really, only simple, meaningless fun.

Debra stepped forward. “But the three of us decided to give you one last chance. Do as we say tonight, and we’ll forget this whole lousy episode ever happened. Don’t you think that’s worth it? Don’t you think you owe us?”

The boys nodded in agreement. This had all come as a shock to them. None were prepared to be alone their senior year. They needed their companionship. They needed their status. And, most of all, they needed their sex.

Marta opened the box on the coffee table in front of the couch. “In this box, you will find three pills; one black, one grey, and one white. They are nonfatal formulations our parents helped us devise with some local resources. You will each take one with a glass of water. Of course, you can refuse-- but any boy who does so is going to find himself very, very lonely at prom.”

The cost-benefit analyses of teenagers, skewed as it is, came through in top form. It took only a minute of conference for Travis, Tyler, and Tate to decide that they’d rather pop a simple pill than spend the remainder of the semester being the single senior-class losers dumped by freshman and sophomore chicks. Each of the 18-year-olds selected a pill and returned to the couch, idly toying with the capsules in their hands.

“Who will be going first?”

Tyler sighed, looking down at the grey pill rolling around in the palm of his hand. “I will, Debra.”

Debra walked over to her boyfriend and gave him a kiss and a glass of water. “Bottoms up, sweetheart.”

Tyler swallowed the pill and washed it down with the ice-cold water. In a matter of minutes, the drug had absorbed into his bloodstream and made its way to his cerebral cortex.

“I don’t feel any different,” the teenager said.

“Oh?” Debra replied. “Bark like a dog.”

A look of confusion crossed Travis’s face, and then a wellspring of laughter composed itself in his diaphragm. He opened his mouth to savor the ridiculousness of his girlfriend’s request.

“ARF! ARF!” Tyler shouted. “Arf arf ARF!!”

Debra laughed. “Excellent!” she clapped. “You can stop, now.”

Tyler was only too glad to. His complete and utter lack of control, his wholly-encompassing compulsion to do exactly as his girlfriend had told him, sent a chill of imminent doom rippling through his spine.

“Who’s next?” the girl demanded.

Tate, impatient and impulsive, sought only to get this ordeal overwith. “I will,” he volunteered, washing down his white pill with the water Marta provided to him.

Shortly thereafter, as the drug coursed through Tate’s veins, the 18-year-old felt a prickly tightness wash over the entirety of his form. He caught a gasp in his throat as the realization came to him: He was shrinking! Moreso than that, he was actually getting younger! A weak “No!” escaped from the 16-year-old’s lips as his muscular definition receded into nothingness and his t-shirt and blue jeans hung loosely from his shoulders and hips. Before long, his belted jeans dropped to the floor, exposing his boxer shorts to the three girls and his two best friends; said shorts soon followed, leaving only Tate’s t-shirt to barely cover his rapidly-dwindling cock.

The 12-year-old gasped in horror and disbelief as he watched his pubic hair suck into his skin. The now-giant t-shirt which enshrouded him became unbearably unwieldy and Tate cast it off just in time to watch his penis diminish into a hairless, pre-pubescent finger. He whined in despair as his body lost all semblances of muscle and structure, and the naked 6-year-old, awash in confusion, fell none-too-softly to the carpeted floor beneath. His sneakers and socks fell off of him as he kicked his little legs in frustration, the horror or revisiting his toddlerhood becoming a reality.

The worst was still to come. Now crying, wailing in a childlike cacophony, 3-year-old Tate squirmed uncontrollably, his tiny, denuded form locked in a tantrum of terror. Humiliation wracked him to his very core. His once-proud cock receded into a tiny nub and his testicles left his scrotum, ascending back up into the baby’s abdomen. An infant wail pierced the open air as Tate, now no more than a year old, spasmed helplessly on the carpet. His strength was gone. All that remained was his adult thoughts, his adult memories, and his very adult grasp of the concept of morbid embarrassment.

“No! No!!” Tate howled in an ear-piercing soprano. “I’m still a man inside! Please, no-- stop this!”

“Tyler,” Marta said, bringing out a box of supplies. “Carla’s parents don’t want a mess on their carpet. Diaper your friend.”

=SHADES OF GREY=

Tate, Willowbrook’s most popular senior, was now nothing more than an 18-year-old mind trapped in a baby’s body -- and this new humiliation was too much to bear. He redoubled his cacophonous rapture as his best friend Tyler, ill-equipped to resist, diligently removed a baby diaper and a bottle of lotion from the box Marta had provided.

“No!!” Tate squealed in between tears, kicking his tiny legs. “Please don’t diaper me!”

Tyler shook his head, his face flushed with crimson. He approached his friend, diaper in hand.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Tyler said. “I can’t stop myself.”

Tyler knelt down to his friend’s infant form and lifted Tate’s legs into the air. Tate burst into tears and pounded his tiny fists on the carpet in frustration as Tyler unfolded the disposable diaper and slid it under the infant’s tiny bottom. Tate practically drowned in sexual humiliation as his friend rubbed powder over his private parts, his tiny, laughable penis, into the creases between his legs, and along his baby-soft butt. Only by sucking his thumb could the teenaged infant allay the even more humiliating piercing of his babyish wail. Travis pulled the diaper up between his friend’s weak, kicking legs and held it to his tummy, now soft with baby fat, then taped each side securely before tucking in the legbands. At last, 18-year-old Tate was as snugly diapered as any adorable little bundle of joy.

“Wah-- Waaaaahhhhh!!” Tate cried, thrashing around in a most infantile tantrum. The embarrassment was unbearable; the weakness of muscular strength was horrifying. And it manifested itself almost instantaneously as Tate’s miniscule nub of a penis began dribbling a full bladder of baby pee into the confines of his disposable diaper. The teenager wailed and flopped around, his penis flopping similarly, spraying hot urine into every corner of the tiny, but suitably thick diaper. He felt it saturate his empty scrotum and course hotly between his pudgy legs. Soon enough, it was over, and Tate sobbed dejectedly, wanting nothing more than a change, outside of the briefest respite from his plight.

Marta clapped. “Well done, little one.”

Debra turned to face her boyfriend. His mouth was agape in response of what had just happened. Tyler felt guilty beyond words that he had diapered one of his closest friends and doomed him to the ultimate humiliation. That said, there was nothing he could have done.

And there was nothing more he could do, either, when his girlfriend demanded he strip in front of the entire group. As Tate sucked his thumb and pawed at his soaked diaper in curiosity, he watched Tyler lift his t-shirt over his head and toss it aside, exposing his defined muscles and wispy happy trail. His shoes and socks soon followed. Without missing a beat, the 18-year-old unbuttoned his blue jeans and let them fall to his feet, kicking them away and leaving him only in his tight, form-fitting briefs.

“All of it,” Debra emphasized.

His face turning beet-red, Tyler grabbed his briefs by the waistband and slid them to his ankles, exposing his five-inch cock and tuft of well-groomed pubic hair. Neither of his two best guy-friends had ever seen him naked, and Tyler concluded that he could go his whole life without it happening ever again.

Debra pointed to the carpet. “Lie down on the floor, sweetheart.” Tyler obliged in one fluid motion, and his girlfriend, grinning all the while, removed an adult diaper, paradoxically adorned with baby-block stickers, from the box of supplies.

“I’ve had so many occasions to do this.”

Tyler could do nothing to resist -- the teenager merely lay on the carpet, denuded, his hands resting behind his head, as his girlfriend of two years proceeded to diaper him. She rubbed oil along his thighs and into his crotch; as she massaged it into his cock, she failed to suppress a giggle as the organ quickly became engorged. A moan of pleasure escaped Tyler’s mouth as his girlfriend slid an oil-slick finger into the boy’s tight asshole. On one level, he wasn’t even enjoying himself remotely; on another, the ecstasy that rippled through his form was almost transcendent. Debra pulled the diaper up between her boyfriend’s defined, lightly hairy legs, and taped it secure.

“There,” she said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Do you like your diapers, Tyler?”

The boy remained silent, humiliated beyond words as he tried to adjust to the feeling of the thick, crinkly padding between his legs.

“You like your diapers, don’t you, Tyler? Tell me you do.”

Tyler grinned. “I like my diapers, Debra. I like ?em a lot. I-- I sort of want to wear them all the time.”

His girlfriend nodded in approval. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance.”

Just a few feet away, Carla approached Travis, and touched his chin with a gentle finger. “You’re not feeling left out, are you, hon?”

A nervous head-shake was the reply.

“Take your pill, darling. We’re almost finished here.”

Travis hesitated for a moment, attempting in futility to delay his fate, then washed down the pill. A warm sensation of calm washed through his body within a matter of minutes. He breathed a sigh of relief when he failed to notice any distinct change in his levels of volition and control.

Carla stroked Travis’s cheek. “That’s a good boy.”

“Tyler?” Debra piped up with a firm voice. “Make out with Travis.”

“Wh-- NO!” came the reply. “NO!”

“Make out with Travis.”

Tyler, his diaper crinkling loudly between his legs, made a quick and fluid move for his friend. Travis backed away. But Tyler was faster, wrapping his arms behind Travis’s back and pushing his lips to those of the other confused and horrified 18-year-old. The hand of instinct motioned Tyler to push his tongue into Travis’s mouth. Tyler’s eyes fell shut as he gave the most loving, sensuous, passionate kiss he had ever given, his tongue exploring the warm, moist recesses of Travis’s mouth. Tyler’s arms slid gently along Travis’s back.

And Travis kissed back.

Travis wrapped his tongue around Tyler’s, savoring things he had never tasted before. A guttural moan escaped his throat. Travis’s eyes fell shut as well as he made out with Tyler.

Within seconds, a rush of blood began to pump into Travis’s cock. Travis moaned again, his knees buckling in ecstasy, as a fierce, throbbing erection developed in his jeans. It pushed agonizingly against the denim and Travis, for his part, began to grind his crotch into Tyler’s diaper. It was such delicious misery. Travis had never been so turned on in his entire life.

“That’s enough,” Debra said, and the two boys broke their kiss.

Travis opened his eyes, his mind swimming in a daze. He wiped a line of Tyler’s saliva from the corner of his mouth and looked down at the tent in his pants, his turgid cock aching for release. The girls laughed at Travis’s obvious state of arousal and made off-color comments regarding a long-buried secret, at last coming to the fore. Travis looked up at his girlfriend in horror.

“Carla,” he whined, “you’ve turned me into a total queer!”

Carla doubled over in laughter, collapsing to her knees.

“Tyler,” Debra said, “look at what you’ve done to your friend.”

Tyler, a tear falling from his cheek and landing on his diaper, leaving an arc down its plastic outside, glanced at the tent in Travis’s pants.

“Leaving it that way wouldn’t be very nice, now would it?” said Debra as a wry grin crossed her face. “Take care of it. Like a good boyfriend should.”

=PAINT IT BLACK=

Tyler dropped to his knees. His diaper, so securely taped, remained steadfastly wrapped around his crotch as the teenager began fumbling with Travis’s zipper.

Travis looked down at his friend, complete lust overtaking him as he watched Tyler unzip the boy’s jeans and push them down to his ankles. The color of flesh was quite distinct against the white fabric of Travis’s briefs as his cock strained against it.

Tyler worked Travis’s tighty-whities over the teenager’s stiff rod and pushed them down to join his ankles. He looked at the long, throbbing cock in front of him -- seven inches of perfectly-formed meat, a drop of pre-cum formed delicately at the tip -- and burst into tears as he wrapped his silky mouth around it.

Travis’s eyes rolled back into his head as he let out a groan of ultimate pleasure. The diapered 18-year-old at his feet diligently sucked his cock like a true professional, uncontrollably moving his head back and forth over its shaft. Tyler pulled off and slurped at the salty head as if it were a lollipop. He buried his face in Travis’s crotch and sucked hungrily at his balls, Travis’s pubes tickling his nose. Tyler returned to pumping Travis’s cock like a piston and whined as tears of humiliation fell onto the shaft, serving as added lubrication. The two boys had never been so abjectly embarrassed.

“Tyler?” Debra called from the sidelines.

“Mmmf-mmmf?” came the reply.

“I saw how much you had for lunch today,” she said. “You ate like a pig. I’ve never seen anybody take down so much food in one sitting.”

“Mmmf-mmmf,” Tyler said, confused, distracted by a mouthful of cock.

“I bet you really need to mess your diapers, don’t you?”

“MMMF-MMMF!” replied Tyler with a whine.

“Go ahead and mess your diapers for Auntie Debra.”

Tyler tried to escape, to disappear, to concentrate on sucking Travis’s cock at the expense of everything else. Travis let out another uncontrollable moan. And Tyler began to push.

The teenager felt the distinct sensation of a stool working its way out of his ass and pressing against the tight fabric behind him. He pushed harder, evacuating his bowels into his diaper. The sticky load at his bottom began to grow as Tyler pushed, moaning anew around Travis’s cock. Travis looked down and watched in perverse arousal as the seat of his new boyfriend’s diaper expanded into a softball-sized load. The diaper crinkled and groaned at the new stress.

At last, Tyler finished his business. And Travis exploded. The teenager let out a wail of unearthly pleasure as a load of hot cum pulsed through his shaft and erupted into Tyler’s waiting mouth. Travis reached down and grabbed Tyler’s head, fucking the boy’s mouth and forcing his cock down his throat as jet after jet of hot, salty cum burst from the head of his aching cock. Travis’s toes curled in his shoes and Tyler, per his implied instructions, eagerly swallowed down everything his longtime friend had to offer.

Tyler didn’t like the taste of Travis’s cum. But when the storm was over and Debra ordered him to clean up the boy’s cock, Tyler dutifully and eagerly dragged his tongue along Travis’s shaft, balls, and between his thighs, acquiring every last drop. At last, Travis’s crotch was immaculate, his moist cock slowly wilting back between his legs -- and Tyler, exhausted, replaced Travis’s briefs and jeans and sat back on the carpet, the sickening load of crap in his diaper spreading across his flesh, through his legs and around his balls and cock, caking him in filth and making him feel like a naughty, diaper-messing, cocksucking pervert.

Travis, selfishly oblivious to his two friends’ plights, relished the afterglow. He looked down at Tyler, who was still crying, sitting in his mess and struggling to wipe errant drops of Travis’s salty cum from his chin and chest.

“I-- I wuv you,” Travis told his boyfriend. His hands leapt to his mouth and covered them in fright. What had he just said?

And, moreover, how had he just said it?

Carla giggled at the realization that the second phase of Travis’s drug had begun to take effect.

The light fog swirling in the boy’s mind turned to a thick pea soup. Travis whined as he became vaguely aware that he was regressing mentally, and with startling haste. All the knowledge, experience, and wisdom he had accrued during high school vanished into the ether. He struggled to cling to something -- anything -- but only the occasional map or arcane novel popped into focus before vaporizing with dejected immediacy. As his mind atrophied into pre-pubescence he lost all concepts of the pleasures of sex. There was no longer any psychology to it -- only physical response. Thusly, he surmised his boyfriend would still please him, and would be ordered to do so on a fairly regular basis; this was the horny teen’s only solace as he lost how to ride a bike, the order of the alphabet, the names and the significance of colors.

Eventually, all Travis knew was comfort, pain, and humiliation. The comfort came when he pushed his bony thumb into his mouth and began to suck. The pain impressed itself upon his full bladder, and, at the last, humiliation arrived in the manifestation of the teenager’s loss of toilet training.

The lanky, slightly-muscular Travis stumbled backwards with a few awkward steps, his thumb still firmly nursing in his mouth, as he felt warm spurts of urine hit his briefs and begin to saturate the front of his jeans. The 18-year-old loosed a childlike whine as he pissed his pants for his amused audience. Warm, gentle streaks of water coursed down his legs and settled into the denim, the absorption leaving a vaguely chilly sensation against the teenager’s skin. Travis closed his eyes and sucked his thumb, doing everything in his power to quell the humiliation as he emptied his bladder into his designer jeans in front of his ex-girlfriend and new boyfriend. He forgot how to walk, and he fell to his butt, his hot piss now saturating his jeans and leaving the fly in a powerful arc. The teenager’s emotions collapsed back to babyhood and he cried around his thumb, bawling audibly, tears streaking down his cheeks to join the puddle of urine on the floor.

“Ty-weeew!” he wailed around his thumb. “I hadded a accy-dent!” He burst into tears anew and rolled onto his back, kicking his soaked legs in the air as he grimaced at the feeling of cold, wet fabric clinging to his slender teenaged frame.

Tyler watched his friend writhe and kick his legs in a babyish tantrum. This, coupled with the sickening mess of crap coating his genitals, caused him to join Travis in an uncontrollable wail of ultimate shame. And baby Tate, the only one of the three with his adult emotions and volition left intact, felt the pain of the cacophonous sounds of his best friends against his underdeveloped infant eardrums, and burst into an ear-splitting squeal of anguish brought on by naught more than instinct.

Carla, Debra, and Marta looked down upon their boyfriends -- all humiliated, all in receipt of their ultimate comeuppance, and all in crucial need of diapers.

“Diapers!” Carla shouted, struggling in vain to be heard above the girls’ boyfriends’ cries. “They’re so expensive these days. But we’ve spoken to your parents -- all of them -- about what you did to us, and they agreed to contribute your combined life savings into a fund to provide you with all the diapers, baby food, and pacifiers you’ll ever need.”

“That’s right,” said Debra. “Who would’ve thought that all the money you made during your hot, sweaty summer jobs would end up being put towards diapers for you to wet and mess yourselves in!”

Marta laughed. “I’m sure at least one of you was saving up for a car. Don’t worry-- you can buy a lot of Hot Wheels with what you’ve got in your savings accounts.”

“Yeah,” Debra sighed. “It’s too bad the effects of these drugs are so inconveniently permanent. You wouldn’t believe the piles of paperwork over which your parents had to slave, to take you out of school and all, to cancel your college applications and invalidate your driver’s licenses. I just don’t think any of you are street legal anymore.”

Laughter from the girls.

“We hate to leave you like this,” said Carla, “but we’ve got some homework to catch up on. Your parents will come to pick you up. But we’ll get to see you every weekend as usual... babysitting, of course. It’s only fair.”

“Only fair,” the others agreed.

Travis, Tyler, and Tate, despite their continued crying, caught every word. Travis’s frigid jeans clung to his limp cock and started to itch. Tyler squirmed around in his loaded diaper, wanting nothing more than to be changed by somebody, anybody. And Tate, largely immobilized, caught a sunbeam in his eye and tried to concentrate on it. To concentrate so, so hard... to forget what happened to him, to his best friends; perhaps even to wake up and find himself the victim of a most convincing nightmare.

None of this was to be, and the three self-satisfied girls delighted in taking care of their new babies for years to come.

Retrospective

On the 23rd and 24th of May, 2007, the three chapters of "Last Chance" went up on the ARchive. It introduced into my writing such tropes as using pills as the transformation MacGuffin and homosexual conversion, the latter of which showing up again in "Valedictorian 2013," and both of which forming the backbone of the mostly male-male "Ecstasy." Since I was inspired primarily by the stories of Jennifer Lorraine in my 2007 work, I tried to stay away from the truly shocking. Clearly I’ve no reservation about that anymore, The Tainted Sins having blazed the path for sickos like me to follow.

Hell, I’d only been doing this stuff for a month and a half. :P

Thanks for reading. -lt