The Family

Chapter 4
Part 4

[quote][quote][quote]Shivering, the two toddlers stood naked while Gwen readied the bathwater. Reeling and unable to focus for very long on a single aspect of this unfolding nightmare, Seth couldn’t decide what was more disturbing - that his manhood had been zapped so rapidly or that this giant woman towering over him already took on such a maternal demeanor. With his hands clamped madly over his crotch, he fought back a healthy, age-appropriate cry. The reflex grew stronger when he took notice of the puny organ hiding behind the palms.

“You two have been very naughty!” Gwen lectured the pair, as she grabbed Lindsay by the armpits and hoisted her into the suds. “Won’t it feel nice to come clean?”

Busy studying little Lindsay’s skittish reaction to the lukewarm water, Seth managed to be taken by surprise when the same fate befell him. He never knew such an intense form of embarrassment even existed. To be magically rewound to early childhood, stripped of one’s clothing, and reduced to sharing the bathwater with a similarly humiliated young woman to whom one is sexually attracted. Or was... Seth reminded himself, still unable to rip his eyes away from the sweet, red-faced girl. Could circumstances get any worse?

And why a bath? Seth wondered. It seemed like such a strange non sequitur until he realized the genius behind it. The bath represented Gwen’s attempt at a gambit, meant to break his spirits quickly. Why not a spanking or harsh scolding? Surely those things weren’t far behind. Yet few acts could so effectively highlight their loss of privileges as a group bath. As the episode wore on, however, it produced an oddly nostalgic effect on Gwen, one that seemed to override her mental faculties.

“Heavens, you both look so cute together!” Gwen doted, her eyes suddenly softening. “I’m so glad you decided to stay with us, Seth.”

Now markedly calmer, she continued praising his adorable new features as she swabbed them with a soaped up washcloth. Clearly the mere sight of young children put Gwen in a mothering state of mind. She couldn’t stay angry at such innocent little munchkins.

“There, doesn’t that feel good?” she said, sending the warm terrycloth down his legs and up his backside. “Lindsay used to love taking baths. It was her favorite part of the day. Now she has a little playmate! This could be fun, you know.”

Seth remain suspended with fear as Gwen cleaned his two and a half foot frame, while Lindsay, being far more familiar with this dreadful routine, squirmed, whimpered, and wiped her glistening eyes. Her one chance at freedom stood at the other end of the tub, now too young for pre-school, much less a daring escape. A new baby for her mother to coddle and nurse and discipline. And she, lucky to keep her double digits on a normal day, now robbed of two decades.

“So Seth,” Gwen sang, “all better now? See, you don’t have to worry about that stupid old job or your car repair bills anymore. That’s all in the past. You can stay here and live with us as long as you want.”

As long as I want? This woman is so batshit crazy, she’s forgotten the definition of basic words. Seth grit his baby teeth.

“Now, that doesn’t mean what I said before. Both of you disobeyed us and you’ve got to be punished, but it’ll only be temporary.”

Temporary. There was a word Seth cherished.

“Once we get you all dried off, I want you to admit what you did,” Gwen explained in an all-too-friendly voice. “Then I want you to apologize to Daddy, okay?”

Almost reflexively, Seth and Lindsay nodded. The atmosphere, combined with their undeniably altered bodies, created a powerful illusion that they were, in fact, children.

“Good,” Gwen said. “Then Daddy and I are going to make you just a little younger, ok?”

“But Mom!” Lindsay wailed loudly. “We’re already -“

“Lindsay, sweetie. It’s for the best. You’ve been very bad today and you won’t learn your lesson otherwise. As babies, you’ll both be much easier to handle while we decide what to do with Seth, all right? Besides, we can’t have you running around and getting any big ideas again.”

If the dishonor of bathing inside a sexless three-year-old body constituted torture, surely the soaking wet exit represented the coup de gr?ce. Seth marveled at the ease with which Mrs. Tierney plucked him from the water. What did he weigh now, 30... 35 pounds maybe? In mid-air, he felt as if he might float away. Of his former bulk, little remained apart from a dimpled rear and arms cushioned with baby fat.

As Gwen toweled off the diminished duo, she began interrogating them as one might question a chocolate-covered kindergartner about the opened cookie jar.

“So then you used the device on George, is that right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Tierney,” Seth answered dolefully, his head dipping to the floor at the end of each phrase. He couldn’t get used to the chipmunk voice emerging from his lips. I sound like a damn girl.

“And then you helped Lindsay grow up and stole the key to the basement...?”

“Uh huh,” he said, raising his eyes to the doorway as a fully-aged George appeared. Or had he been there the entire time?

“Well, well,” the patriarch bellowed. “How’s it feel to be a team player now, Mr. Travers?”

My god, he’s as tall as a fucking mountain Seth thought, the world closing in on him.

“What do you say?” Gwen prodded the guilty pair.

“We’re sorry...”

“That’s better,” George replied, clearing his throat. “Seth, I guess you know what this means. There’s no way we can let you go blabbing this story to every newspaper in California. We’ve got a pretty idyllic setup here Midian, as you can see, so you’ll become our newest resident. How’s that sound?”

Seth declined to answer, preferring instead to observe his Miranda rights.

“Oh, you’ll come to accept it in time. It may not be big and fancy like what you’re used to in L.A., but it’s a lovely place to call home. My gut tells me a stint in our juvenile jail system would serve you right, but I can see my wife has taken a shine to you, so we’ll hold off on that for awhile. In the meantime, though...” George explained, pulling the Rensen device from a nearby table, “some downtime might do the both of you good.”

“Sir, if we could just discuss this like - “ Seth stopped, realizing the absurdity of his next word.

“No, Daddy!” Lindsay protested, even louder than before. “Please don’t make us babies. I’ll do anything - “

“It’s because we love you, honey,” Gwen reminded her daughter, as the beams made contact with their fleshy targets.

“Stop it!” Lindsay screamed, the signal already taking hold of her cellular structure.

The towels - their sole source of modesty - crumpled and collapsed to the floor as they shed even more months. Deposits of baby fat overtook their limbs and, more noticeably, their faces. Any proportion afforded their three-year-old bodies disappeared as their noses grew smaller, their eyes bigger, and their bellies pudgier. Seconds passed and their wispy hair, while still covering their heads, faded to a lighter shade.

Gwen’s expression lit up again with maternal delight. Not one, but two babies awaiting her care. She clapped her hands with hopeful anticipation.

“Oh George, aren’t they precious?” she cooed, seemingly oblivious to the coercion involved in the transformation. She picked up Seth first. “What a beautiful little boy you are.”

Seth gazed around the room with alarmed, darting eyes. As hard as he tried, no intelligible noises originated from his mouth. Nothing but a mish-mash of worthless gurgles and grunts. The shock left him breathless and panicked as he hung limp and naked in the cool air, on show as it were. The only sounds that registered were Lindsay’s piercing cries from the floor behind him. Holy fuck. They were too young to speak.

George and Gwen’s wide smiles did nothing to mitigate the horror: Seth Travers was now an infant.

--------

Spring had blossomed in Midian and the trees ripened with deep color. Gwen took her time traversing the length of the block. Everyone moved slower, in fact; the picturesque weather, the bucolic scenery, the cool breeze seemed to demand their attention.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Mrs. Coffield remarked from her yearly herb garden.

“Gorgeous,” Gwen replied, leisurely pushing the double stroller down the sidewalk. “Just letting the little ones get some fresh air.”

Under the hood of the stroller, strapped securely in the seats, Lindsay and Seth rode silently side by side, their bare feet dangling from the leg holes. After two months, this smalltalk was becoming distressingly routine.

Mrs. Coffield dusted the dirt from her apron, rounded the gate, and leaned down. “Let me get a look at those cutie-pies,” she said. “How old are we today?”

“Just under a year, give or take,” Gwen estimated.

“Oh, that’s my favorite age. They’re features are just starting to come in, but they’re not full of questions yet.”

True to their word, the Tierneys had not kept them infants permanently. As reward for good behavior, occasionally Lindsay and Seth enjoyed an afternoon as toddlers, or, if they were lucky, five-year-olds. Even so, such “grown up” excursions warranted near constant supervision. For Easter the kids painted eggs with some neighborhood children and attended Sunday School for the first time, but exceptions of that kind were rare and brief. Despite their general placidity and willingness to cooperate with their captors, the pair never fully won back the adults’ trust. George and Gwen took no chances; the device stayed locked away and out of sight, and Seth and Lindsay remained far too young to retrieve or operate it, should the chance arise.

Lindsay, of course, lost all contact with her former friends. Once the news spread of her regression to infancy, the calls and invitations slowly dried up. Only hints of her life as a teen or adult lingered around the house: a photograph, an old textbook, her pink cell phone. For all practical purposes, she and Seth existed as young twins, growing up (and down) at their parents’ whim.

Seth, meanwhile, spent the vast majority of his time struggling to stay attentive to any chance, however slim, of rebellion. Lately the it had become more of a battle, as he found himself acquiescing to the demands of his new parents and easily adopting habits befitting a boy of his age. Every time he discovered himself spellbound by thoughts of peek-a-boo and toy trucks, Seth wrenched his young mind back to reality and concentrated on windows of opportunity.

When Gwen returned home, George greeted her from the front porch with a pensive, distracted air.

“Long day?” she said, checking her watch.

“Several new ordinances up for a vote this afternoon,” he answered with a rasp. “Plus a few stops to make on the other end of town.” He patted his briefcase. A briefcase Seth knew too well.

“The Barker boy again?”

“I’m afraid so,” George sounded genuinely disappointed. “The third strike in two weeks. There’s no way I’m letting that boy past the age of ten if he keeps this up. The last thing this town needs is another adolescent Barker running around.”

“What was it this time?”

“Breaking and entering. Sporting goods store,” George said, opening the door for his wife, but not before giving her a husbandly kiss of the lips. Seth and Lindsay rarely witnessed public displays of affection between the two. The novelty of the sight wore off instantly when George’s face turned sour.

“I think one of your passengers requires a change,” he remarked.

Gwen sniffed the air around the stroller and promptly agreed. While Seth knew Lindsay was the culprit, he had little room to boast, having peed fifteen minutes before. Despite their higher functioning minds, their bodies suffered all the design flaws inherent to any average infant.

Inside, the house smelled of pot roast and mashed potatoes, a Tierney family favorite and a welcome change of odor.

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” Gwen chimed.

“I’ll be in the lab,” George answered, hanging his sport jacket in the hallway closet. Seth couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about him today. He appeared tormented, as if an unwelcome fate loomed overhead. His hands shook.

“Very good, honey.”

God, how could anyone still be this domestic? Seth wondered, as Gwen unstrapped him and his “sister,” elevating them to the changing table situated in the living room.[/quote][/quote][/quote]

 

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