Control Yourself!

Chapter 8
Chapter 8

Control Yourself! Chapter 8

by Ungulate

Amanda came in the bedroom to see what the fuss was about. She was transfixed by the scene of John swinging her mother around. Her mom looked like she was about 3 or four years old now. Kim caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

“My gawd…” she said, staring blankly at the toddler in the mirror. It was her at three, all the memories of being that young were present in her mind. She felt so helpless to be carried on John’s hip.

“I got younger than four?” she asked. She didn’t remember the last bits of the playground episode very well.

“Yes, the doctor says you are in a regression spiral now, Kim. He said it had something to do with an “emotional threshold” or something. He expects that you will stop at the age of 2, or a bit younger.” Kim gulped. It was really happening now, wasn’t it? She would have to live the life of a baby soon-she could even feel the mental regression hovering around the periphery of her consciousness, waiting for an opportunity to drag her into babyhood. Her heart was beating loudly. It was like she was terminally ill, and the end was finally near. She looked around at her family, at the sympathy in their eyes. Everybody was near tears.

“You will come back though, Kim. It might take many years, but the doctor knows for sure now that you will regain your former self in time, with all of your memories, and some new ones.” John was teary eyed, and stroking her cheek. She knew this man was the best father she could have. She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards him, as she gazed in his eyes. Even with the gap of over 27 years, the exchange of pure love and adoration was obvious between the two of them. John saw only her eyes, and the soul behind them. Though he carried her weak and small frame, he felt pure respect and admiration for her.

Kim felt a shudder deep in her stomach, and something inside of her was moving around. She felt a twinge of panic, and gripped on to John.

“John…?” She convulsed and kicked her legs uncontrollably. She felt herself slip backwards in time, just a tiny bit, but it seemed to have a great effect. Her diaper loosened.

“Hold me…” She whimpered. John embraced her close to his chest. She tried to bury herself there, terrified at the loss of power. John sat down on the floor with his back to a wall, rocking Kim. Amanda and Chelsea came close and affectionately placed their hands on their shrinking mother, crying and trying to be as supportive as possible. Kim squeezed onto Chelsea’s fingers as she felt herself shrinking more. The regression had a comforting aspect to it, as though she were curling up in a ball for a nap. The terror came from realizing the permanence of the situation. She didn’t want to be a baby.

“I don’t want to be a baby…” she whispered into John’s chest as she shrunk in his arms. She knew now that she was about 30 months old, and dwindling. Her fingers and toes became more shapeless, and Chelsea’s fingers became thick and big to her. Her grip was getting fainter and more passive. Her head was quivering, and John held it to his chest to comfort her. Her shoulders were making internal popping sounds, and her calves and thighs were shortening in unison. 27 months.

She was even more upset by not knowing how young she was going to get. It was horrible to be at the mercy of this process. She tried to fight it for a second, but realized it was far too late now. She should have been more careful in the first stages of regression. To lose a few years and regain some youthful energy would have been excellent. To be a seventeen year old, with a bit of her authority taken away, would have been livable. To be 14, and still able to ride a bike… to at least be able to go to the bathroom by herself: she would do anything for a second chance to control her emotional outbursts and stop this process in its early stages. As it was, she would have it all taken from her. She wept soundly as she passed 26 months. She would have to go through toilet training, and learn how to count again.

She hit 24 months, but she was still shrinking. She was shocked by how large the diaper felt. She burped and pooped herself at the same time, completely losing the last fragments control over her bodily functions. How young would she get?

“Why isn’t it stopping?” She said with sheer terror in her voice. “It was supposed to stop… why isn’t it stopping?” She was becoming more and more emotional. “Noooooooo!” She knew she was 22 months now. Her hair was fine and wispy. All her coordination was draining from her. Her arms twitched and shortened. 20 months.

“Make it STOP!” She demanded of no one in particular. “I can’t be a baby! I hafta make supper! No, no no… me no get younger!” The family was bawling now. Her mind was starting to go. She felt neurons popping, and connections in her brains severing. 18 months… 17 months. She freaked out, and started thrashing around. John held on to her.

“No, no, no baaaby!” She screamed. She tried with all her might to not be a baby, but something incredibly powerful was humbling her. “No baaaaaaaawwwww” she broke into an open cry as the last shreds of her adulthood floated away from her, out of her reach. She collapsed and became a 14-month-old baby in John’s trembling arms. The process was done. The baby that cried his arms had no understanding of what had happened. She only knew that she wasn’t supposed to be like this somehow. She bawled into his chest. John rocked her, making “shhh” noises, and trying to be as soothing as possible.

“Chelsea, could you take one of those bottles I put on the counter, and put some milk in it? I think it might help her settle down.” Chelsea nodded, tears almost blinding her. She got up and went downstairs.

“I will always love you, Kim… I promise you.” He whispered to her as he rocked the screaming baby. Chelsea yelled up the stairs.

“Dad? Should I warm the milk up?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” He called back. Chelsea returned after a few minutes with a warm bottle. Kim was crying more sporadically now, as though she were getting tired. She looked around at the family with confusion and hurt. John put the bottle in her lips and she twisted her head away, as though she didn’t want it. She tasted the warm milk though, and it enticed her. Deep inside, she wanted to act like she didn’t need the milk, but it seemed like such a comforting thing. She gave in the next time he brought the nipple to her lips, and started sucking. It was a wonderfully pleasurable feeling, and she sucked deeper. John smiled down at her.

“There… that’s better, huh?” She closed her tear-stained eyes and sucked her way into oblivion as he stroked her cheek.

Baby Kimberly woke up the next morning, after dreaming about colors, shapes, and strange symbols floating around her. She knew that she used to understand what the symbols meant, but she could no longer decipher them. The clarity of day began to sink in. She had to make sure she got up in time to make breakfast and get the girls off to school. No wait… she WAS a girl, wasn’t she? She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t. She lay there for a second and tried to piece it all together. She wasn’t 30 anymore, was she? But how old was she? She opened her eyes quickly and was shocked by the crib bars. He chubby little legs twitched in panic. She wanted to call out for John, but something was fading… she felt silly, and clumsy. Her thoughts were starting to get really messy and disorganized. No! she was starting to think like a 1 year old baby again! She tried to bring her adult mind to the surface, but all she could do was gurgle. Her older self was sinking deeper into the baby body. She had a strong urge to blow bubbles with her saliva, and she did so, unable to resist. She let out a small cry beyond her control. She wanted him… the one who was always here. Her mouth craved things. She cried louder for him.

John came to the sound of Kim’s cry. The moment he opened the door she grinned, happy to see him, and full of energy. John smiled back at the cute little baby who used to be his partner.

“Good morning Kim! How are YOU doing?” He asked with a big smile on his face. She squealed with delight as he picked her up, and tried to grab his nose to show her affection. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tolerated the baby’s exploration of his face.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry sweetie, let’s take you down for some breaky.”

Thus began Kim’s life as a 14-month-old baby. Each morning when she woke up, she had a few seconds of recollection-a full realization what had happened to her. Her mental regression always set in too quickly for her to act on her awareness, however. She spent the rest of the day being coddled and changed, and fed. Time passed very slowly for her, and every now and then she felt a twinge of impatience with herself, as though her body wasn’t “right.”

One night, three months after her regression, she woke up for no apparent reason. She was once again instantaneously aware that she was a 30 year-old trapped in a tiny body. She cried to herself, the tears streaming down the sides of her cheeks. She didn’t know what time it was, but the house seemed silent. She squirmed a bit, feeling her sweaty diaper. My god, she thought, how do babies put up with these things for so long? She made a mental note that when she grew up and had another child, she would use cloth diapers. She looked up at the ceiling. She knew the mental regression would set in soon. She felt so alone at these times, knowing that it would be years before she would be able to articulate her inner feelings. More tears streamed down her temples. The diaper felt so uncomfortable, and tight. Had John done it up a little too snug? She tried to tug at the front of it, but only managed to slap her hands down on the front. What a helpless creature she was! The diaper annoyed her, but not having control over her hands was even more frustrating. She whimpered quietly. She felt something that had been absent from her life for quite some time: sexual desire. She longed for John’s body, for his caress. She looked down at her diaper with disappointment. Nothing for him in there, except a mess to be cleaned up. How incredibly humiliating, she thought.

Tonight, the diaper felt completely unbearable. He must have fastened it too tight. That’s a man for you… no sensitivity. It truly felt like it was cutting into her skin. Even the circulation to her legs seemed cut off, and they were falling asleep. She worried a bit. Maybe she should cry for him. Would he know what to do though? How would she communicate her pain to him, as a baby? She twisted and shifted around to alleviate the pinching feeling. It only got worse. She became desperate, and squirmed in frustration.

“POP!”

One of the tapes broke under stress. She couldn’t believe it. How tight had he done the friggin’ things up, anyway? The tapes seemed stretched to the max.

“POP!”

She felt relief as another tape flew off. It almost felt as though the pampers were getting tighter on her.

“POP! POP!”

The remainder of the diaper tapes let go under tension. Well, she thought, I guess I get to be free tonight! She rolled around to get herself out of the nasty, sweaty babypants. She knew that she had pooped in her sleep, and would probably end up smearing the mess into her flannel sheets, but that was John’s problem, not hers. She smiled at the thought. That’ll teach him not to diaper so aggressively!

She looked down at herself. She had a bit of a diaper rash on her bare privates. She touched her vagina with her hand. It was an odd sensation, not only because she felt how much of a baby she really was, but also because something had “changed” in the last few minutes. She didn’t know what it was, but she felt more “in control.” She rubbed her hand around, truly enjoying the tingly feeling in her crotch. She made a happy baby sound, and kicked her legs. Her other hand went to her mouth, and she started sucking her thumb as she rubbed her belly and vagina. It was sex to her, the best she could get under the present circumstances. She tried to fantasize about have sex with John, but the vision of him thrusting his penis into her somehow got mixed up with another vision of him wiping her poopy bum with a warm washcloth. Both scenes turned her on, however, and she alternated between them, feeling her pleasure build. Soon she was caught up in strange dreams of sucking on his tit, or having him tickle her, or sucking on his penis, or bouncing on his knee. The feelings surged in her, and she felt herself getting close to orgasm. She rocked back and forth, frantically masturbating in her crib. She suddenly made a high pitched squeal and erupted inside. Never in her life had she felt so much pleasure! Her hand yanked itself away from her privates in reflex. Wave after wave of sexual satisfaction enveloped her as she lay there, amazed. Babies can have orgasms?

But something was different about her body tonight. She looked at her hands. They were different from the last time she looked at them-they had more definition and shape. She became excited at the prospect that started to dawn on her… was she getting older? She sat up. She was older! In her fit of sexual pleasure, she had totally missed her progression to age 2. She was still getting bigger. The process felt wonderful and empowering. She nervously sat there, wondering how old she would get, praying to God that she would gain enough age to at least start toilet training. She grew and grew, passing the age of three. Her legs elongated and narrowed, slowly creeping across the sheets as they lengthened. She watched the top bar of the crib come down closer to her, and the poopy sheets move further and further away as her torso got longer. She imagined she was over four now, and still growing. Joy filled her heart as she felt the growth begin to accelerate. Soon she was a five-year-old, then a six year old. She stood up in the crib and looked down at the top bar. She wanted to climb out, but thought it might be dangerous still. She was stretching, and taking shape as a prepubescent child now. Eight, Nine, Ten… She decided that she better climb over the bars now… if she got older, she might break the crib from her weight. She easily climbed over the bars and let herself down. She ran over to the light and turned it on, running to her vanity to watch the remainder of the process. She was 12 by the time she first saw herself, and already developing breasts. She proudly stood there as her tiny nipples bulged and lifted. Her body shot upwards in full puberty. Her crotch felt warm and tingly as hair grew and thickened between her legs. She was a teenager again! Her womanhood fully manifested itself before her eyes; her hips rounded and curved. She rubbed a hand down her 22-year-old tummy in admiration. She was growing older at an incredible rate now, and her breasts were starting to sag a bit, her tummy growing outwards a little. She frowned as the process came to a halt when she hit 30. She didn’t quite like the last little bit.

Nevertheless she was overjoyed. She danced and skipped around the room, enjoying her every supple and coordinated movement. She was crying with joy and relief. Tom’s stupid invention was not so permanent after all! She went to the bathroom to wash up a bit. John was in for a big surprise tonight! Getting out in the hall, she realized that the whole family was sound asleep. She tiptoed into the washroom, turning on the light. She turned around and tried to inspect her bum in the mirror. There was a little brown spot in the center of her crack: a baby-sized poop. She wet a washcloth and cleaned herself up. From now on, it was toilet paper for her! What a joy it would be to simply use a toilet! She noticed that she still had a bit of a rash on her bum from her diaper. She giggled.

She quietly tiptoed into John’s room. He was snoring lightly when she climbed into bed beside him. The clock said 5:30 AM. He would be up in a half hour. She laid there beside him, gazing at his beautiful face, as he toss and turned. She quietly reached over and turned off the alarm as it got closer to 6:00. She nuzzled in close and started to breath softly on his shoulder, her mouth close enough to warm his skin. She began to kiss his arm lightly at first, while bringing her hand up to slowly stroke his chest. He began to wake up, mumbling and making light laughing sounds.

“Kim… stop it, that tickles…” He moaned, pushing her hand away from his chest hair. She giggled and cuddled closer to him. He smiled.

“What a strange dream… I…” he said, and then stopped in mid-sentence. He froze, opening his eyes.

“Good morning lover” Kim said in adoration. John bolted upright in shock.

“Kim? Oh my god!” He was visibly shaking and trembling as he put his hands on her to make sure she was real. Kim sat up and threw her arms around him, weeping for joy.

“I don’t know how…” she said between sobs “…I love you.” She started frantically kissing the back of his neck, and his hair. John squeezed her close like it was the last time he would hold her. What a glorious gift to be with her again!

The children were ecstatic, especially Amanda, who bounced around the kitchen table all through breakfast. It was the happiest morning the family had experienced for almost a year. John took the day off, resolving that he and Kim should go and see Tom immediately. Chelsea and Amanda didn’t want to go to school, but Kim decided it was best, and promised them she would pick them up for lunch and play with them all night.

She loved exercising her rights as a mother, whistling to herself as she whisked the dishes into the sink. John sat back in his chair watching his wife move around with grace and maturity. His heart beamed; she was back.

As it turned out, Tom was out of town that week. The couple managed to talk with one of his lab assistants, and found out that all of the test subjects had mysteriously progressed in age over the last few days, including the dog that Kim had first seen regressed many months ago.

“Tom is going to be a bit disappointed with the rest of his subjects,” said the assistant “but I’m sure he’ll be relieved when he sees you. It was really hard on him to watch you suffer from his science.”

“Please tell him to call us right away when he gets back… who knows how long this will last, and I have some more questions for him.” Said Kim.

“Certainly…” said the man, showing them the door.

Kim insisted on driving the car home. It was so nice to have her adult privileges back! She dropped John off at his office and picked the kids up at school for their lunch break. She bought some KFC and took them to a park. The two of them kept staring at their mom with amazement and admiration.

“Well, this sure has been a strange year” She told them as they sat down at a picnic table.

“Mom?” said Chelsea, looking a bit apologetic. “I’m sorry about the way I treated you… I was so mean sometimes!”

“Aw, it’s ok, Chelsea. I wasn’t being too nice to you either. Sometimes, when people change roles, they get a bit hostile. I totally understand your behavior, and I accept your apology.” The two smiled at each other.

Later that night, Kim joined John for a late night movie. She laid her head on his lap, and he stroked her hair in affection. She started sucking on her thumb, watching the movie.

“Uh… Kim?” John said.

“Mmmm?” replied Kim, staring at the screen.

“You’re sucking your thumb?” John asked, a bit puzzled.

“Oh!” She said, pulling it out. “I… ummm… guess I’ve developed a few habits” John laughed.

“You’ll get buck teeth silly, don’t you know?” He teased.

“All the better to bite you with, Mr. Wolf” She said, sexily, rubbing her hand on the inside of his thigh. John was instantaneously hard, having been denied sex for so long. The two made out for a while on the couch, and John eventually carried her upstairs. They had incredible sex that night. Kim had a strange desire for John to “wipe her bum,” but she pushed it away, deciding not to tell him about it.

As time marched on, they carried on as a normal, happy family. Tom ran some tests on Kim, and said there were still some leftover “alterations” in her DNA structure, but told her not to worry about it. She didn’t notice much of a change in herself. Occasionally she had an urge to play with dolls, or suck her thumb, but the leftover effects faded with time.

Six months flew by. Chelsea turned 12, and started to blossom into womanhood. Unfortunately, she also became really defiant and cantankerous again. It was hard for her to adjust to her growing body. One night, Kim was waiting in the kitchen when Chelsea came in.

“Chelsea, I want to talk to you.” She said firmly. Chelsea could tell she was in trouble.

“What?” She said, already defensive.

“I found these in your jeans pocket.” She said, tossing a package of cigarettes on the table.

“They aren’t mine, they’re Anne’s I was just holding them for her.” Chelsea lied. Kim could always tell when Chelsea lied: she would look away nervously.

“That’s a lie, and you know it Chelsea. You are grounded for a month, alright?”

“Screw you!” Chelsea said, pushing past her to stomp off to her room.

“What did you say to me?” Kim demanded, grabbing her daughter by the shoulder. She was shocked and angered by the response. Chelsea tried to yank her shoulder away.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled. Kim clamped onto her wrist. She might be getting bigger, but she was not too old to spank. Chelsea knew what was coming and she struggled to get away. Kim became really angry, but suddenly stopped, and let go of her daughter, feeling woozy. She took a couple of steps backwards, staggering slightly. Chelsea looked at her mother, puzzled.

“Are you ok, mom?”

“Yes… I just feel a bit dizzy…” she said, holding onto her head. She staggered to the sink for a glass of water. She turned on the tap, and watched it run for a few seconds, leaning on the counter. Her mind conjured up an image from the past: an image of her and Chelsea fighting over a Barbie doll. She shook her head and poured a glass of water. She suddenly dropped it into the sink as she felt a buzzing sensation in her tummy. The image of fighting with Chelsea came back, stronger. She was starting to shrink again, she recognized the feeling immediately. She gripped on to the counter, fighting as she shuddered. She looked at her hands, horrified. They were smoother, and younger. Her clothes began to feel loose, and she watched the sink rise up towards her. She turned around to face Chelsea, who was watching her in shock.

“Mom, you’re a teenager again!”

Kim knew it wasn’t going to stop there. Her mind raced in panic. No, not again! She held onto her breasts as she felt them dwindle under her sweatshirt. Her hands became lost in the long sleeves. She gagged and bent over from the force of the alteration. Regression was coursing through her bloodstream with fury. Her jeans fell down around her ankles as she dropped in height, coming down to meet Chelsea. She squealed in fear.

“Uggnnhh! Noooo!” She gasped, reaching over to grab her falling pants. The waves were getting larger and more powerful. She convulsed and became a 13 year old, her legs and arms making popping and crackling sounds. She bent over as the next powerful regression turned her into an 11 year old. She looked up at Chelsea, panicking. Her fear multiplied the effect. The next spasm brought her back to her 9th year. Chelsea was looking down at her smugly now, being much bigger. Kim fell backwards onto her bum and turned into a 7 year old. The process halted. She looked down at her bare 7-year-old legs.

“But how? What?” She said in shock.

“It looks like you won’t be spanking me today, ma!” Chelsea said, leaning over and speaking to Kim in a condescending tone.

“Chelsea, don’t you dare take advantage of me in this situation! You go up to your room, cuz I said so, and I’m the mommy, even if I… look all small and stuff… “ Kim said, obviously struggling to maintain her composure. Chelsea laughed.

“Ha! You’re not gonna tell me what to you… you’re just a little kid! In fact, I think YOU need a spanking for disrespecting me!” Chelsea threatened. Kim trembled with fear. Chelsea was so much bigger than her! She started crying.

“No, please don’t! I’ll listen!” Chelsea sneered.

“I’ll just make sure you get the message, kid!” She said, grabbing Kim by the arm. Kim freaked out, trying to scramble up off the floor. Chelsea held onto her arm and swatted her behind as Kim tried to run away. As the hand hit her, she felt the pain and fear turn inward. She recalled being pushed down in the schoolyard by Billy, and she felt the same emotions-and the same regression sequence kick in. She tried to get away as she felt her body slip out of control. She started peeing on the floor in fear, as she became a six-year-old. Chelsea let go of her, realizing that she was shrinking again. Kim grabbed at her crotch with both hands and stood there, half bent over, peeing and shrinking.

“Noooooo, Nooo ho ho!” She wailed as she dropped to five years of age. She rubbed her tongue over her buzzing teeth. Her whole body was electrified, and she had no hope of stopping the process. She dropped to her knees, grunting as she dwindled into toddlerhood. Her nose was running and she looked pathetic as she became a 4-year-old, and then a 3-year-old. The process was slowing. She screamed, looking down at her babyish body.

The front door opened as the regression started to slow. John walked in, and was about to say something when he stopped in shock.

“Kim?” He said, rushing to her.

“John! Chelsea… she was bad! She made me wittle… help!” Exclaimed Kim, trying to stand up. She was two years old now, however, and she fell over on her bum.

“She… me… no….” She said getting a blank look on her face. She pooped on the floor and slipped into babyhood, both in mind and in body.

“Chelsea, what happened?” John asked.

“I dunno, she just started shrinking… I didn’t do anything!” Chelsea replied. As John picked up the crying baby, Chelsea slipped the cigarettes off the table and into her pocket.

Kim spent the next two months in her crib. Tom surmised that she was still vulnerable to the MRA, though he wasn’t sure why. She progressed to her normal age after two months, and immediately grounded Chelsea for a LONG time.

As it turned out, Kim could still get younger under situations of extreme stress or emotion. It rarely happened, but at least twice a year she would experience something that would trigger regression. Sometimes, she only shrank to 17, or 14 years old. Other times, however, she would find herself trapped in a much younger body. The regression usually lasted for a few months.

“I feel like the Incredible Hulk.” She told Teresa. “Except I have the misfortune of becoming a helpless little girl whenever I get really upset. It kinda takes away from the whole romance of being a superhero.”

John established a set of rules for Kim at different ages, including fluctuating bedtimes. As soon as Kim regressed, she was subject to the rules, regardless of whether or not she had maintained some maturity. She hated getting younger than 7, since it meant she was immediately put in diapers.

Still, she tried to find something good in the whole experience. She resolved that not everybody gets the chance to experience childhood again, and she decided to fully enjoy her break from responsibilities whenever the MRA reduced her to childhood. With time, she became a very happy person, regardless of how old she was. Her relationship to John deepened, as he switched roles from husband to father, and back again. She always made sure that he had the best father’s day in the world.

The End

 

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