Jungle Jim The Adventurer

Chapter 1
The temple of doom?

Chapter Description: Jim explores.

 Chapter 1 “Jim sets the stage.”

Here at last! The long, rigorous trek through the jungle, the days of fighting off blood-sucking insects, the humid nights of torpor, not allowing a proper rest time, and even a bout of dysentery thrown in once or twice. This place had it all!

Placing his hand on the correct stone sequence, Jim the explorer stepped back and let the ancient stone door open. Turning on his flashlight, he surveyed the dark and humid place. Not much to see. Just a domed chamber with a pedestal in the center. On the pedestal, a shiny bright stone caught his provided illumination and glowed a dull orange.

Stepping up to the pedestal and examining it for traps, Jim considered whether it’d be safe to take the object without triggering one.

The stone stood atop a couple of centuries’ worth of dust. Jim took a fine, soft brush and carefully cleaned it away. He read the inscription: “There are no traps other than the one you prize” was what it transcribed to.

Jim carefully picked up the glowing stone, put it in his sack, and explored the space for more warnings or even a helpful hint.

There were a few: “Look both ways before crossing the cartway”, “Did you wash behind your hearing orbs?”, “Put the pointy stick down, lest thy be poked out” and finally “Waste not! Tidy thy plate to become a fearsome warrior one day.”

“Jeez,” thought Jim, “a tribe of mothers, no wonder they died out!”

There was one last inscription on the door frame as he left: “Didst my little mewling warrior soil his breechclout? This is expected of one so young!” Jim snorted at the effort it took to inscribe such a message in stone so perfectly only to have it be as ridiculous as this one.

Jim slept peacefully that night and struck out for civilization the next day.

The bright sun burned down on a humid, green landscape. Jim was in very high spirits today, and couldn’t remember a time when he was happier. It was like getting out of the stuffy library for a breath of fresh air. There was a springiness to his step that he’d thought was long gone with his twenties after the rockslide nearly crushed his humerus leaving him with a bit of a limp after recovery.

He wasn’t limping now, however. Very odd. No twinges or occasional pains. His whole body seemed to vibrate with the youthful energy he now felt.

Taking a break, Jim pulled out the rock and did some crude examinations on it. He decided to nickname it the “mommy stone” after all those inscriptions back in the domed temple. The rock was bright orange under the sun, perhaps Carnelian? It seemed to be picking up intensity as the sun continued to warm it up. With his break over, Jim put the stone back in his knapsack.

At night, Jim broke out his small camp. Cooked up whatever he could supplement his meager supplies with that he found in the jungle and rationed out a cup of coffee. Taking the stone out of his knapsack, he noticed that the dull orange-red glow was now a bright, almost uncomfortable sodium orange illumination. Marveling at the gemstone, he stroked his smooth, practically hairless face and in the process of caressing the peach fuzz under his nose came to a start.

What had happened to his beard? It was fully thick before leaving the temple. He examined his body and further discovered his thick hirsute body was now peach fuzz smooth as well. His pits and privates were still covered with hair, but it was now fine instead of coarse and curly. In a panic, he looked in his knapsack for his shaving kit, found the mirror inside, and looked at the young man on the other side.

This was him as a teenager! Maybe 18 or 17? None of the horrid acne that he suffered from at 13 to 15, so it was him at 17, had to be. His manhood, throbbing with the excess testosterone that young males at this age often felt, became a throbbing hard priapic rod clouding his thoughts.

He remembered all those stories that were on that website, what was it called? “Return or don’t to babyhood” (or something like that) and now here he was having his wild fantasies fulfilled and not liking it one bit. At the rate he was going, he’d be helpless within the next day! Hastily, he struck camp and risked the night terrors to get back to the temple for a clue, any clue that could change the outcome of his predicament.

Fortunately, the gem he carried lit the way and the creatures that normally would stalk him for their sustenance kept away.

Arriving back at the temple by dawn’s light, a 12-year-old Jim sized his situation up:

• He only had one or two pubic hairs left.

• His Jungle Jim outfit hung off him like a scarecrow’s.

• The outfit’s belt was a stretch fabric web type so he had just kept tightening it as his stature and girth diminished.

• Of course, his shorts looked like a pair of balloons, but that didn’t matter.

The biggest problem was keeping his boots. He needed them to protect against the sharp stones and burrs of the jungle floor. With all four pairs of socks either stuffed inside or worn against his skin, they threatened to fall off his feet at any moment.

His boner had risen and fallen with a steady rhythm all night. He was desperately horny right now to rub one-off, but he knew he couldn’t. So that thought was put on the back burner.

Advancing on the temple, he keyed the code and opened the door. With the light of the gemstone, the temple took on a much different look. Bright multicolored lights festooned the rounded ceiling, a cluster of them caught his eye. Putting the stone back on the pedestal, he advanced on them and carefully examined them.

They were some sort of scientific consoles that were in English! The temple could mold itself to whoever occupied it! This was a lucky break! Stepping out of his boots and not realizing it, a 10-year-old Jimmy looked at the console’s display to read:

“Welcome to OO-Parts technologies! This advanced console has many of the latest technologies just cram-packed inside to give you the maximum life experience.” Blah, blah, blah. Jim lost interest and found that it had an AI for conversation mode. He activated it.

“Hello, Jimmy! Came the voice of his mother from the console, “Have you been traipsing through that dirty old jungle again? You’ll have to take a good long bath to get all that mud off, and you won’t be eating lunch until then, young man! So, scoot! Take a bath!”

Jimmy couldn’t resist the hypnotic tones of the console, he was marched off to another section of the dome (It’s bigger on the inside) where an android quickly and efficiently stripped him bare, drew a bath, and put him in it. It began to scrub his feet when Jimmy came out of his reverie. “Hey, I’m a grown man! I don’t need to be treated like a little boy, back off!”

The android immediately picked Jimmy out of the tub and spanked his backside, it felt good at first, invoking the erotic fantasies that Jimmy often entertained but never sought out. His little hairless pee pee came to orgasm and he promised to be a good boy as the android scrubbed his body clean.

With only a pair of superman underoos on, 8-year-old Jimmy was ushered back to the console. His cotton and polyester trappings evoked a response: “There you are, young man! Don’t you look just ‘super’ in those clothes? Now, who’s hungry for a little lunchtime snack?” Without any input, a paper plate with a PBNJ neatly cut in half appeared. Little Jimmy ate hungrily as this was one of his favorite foodstuffs as a child.

7-year-old Jimmy’s underoos were stretchy, but they weren’t stretched very much as he finally got the console’s attention. “Um, mom? I have a little problem and I wonder if maybe you could help out?” As the console turned its full attention to him it stated “A problem? Certainly Jimmy what can I do to help you?”

“Well, I’m not getting older, I’m getting younger and I don’t want to get any younger ‘cause then I’d be a baby and I just wanna grow up again!” gushed Jimmy. His frustration at not being in control came to the surface of his ego and he was near tears. Being 6 didn’t help either, it made some things harder to understand.

“Oh! Well, I might be able to help my little bunny wunny!” said the console, you’ll have to wait though, I’m busy preparing dinner. “Dinner?” yelled Jimmy “I’ll be a baby by then for sure! Please stop me from becoming younger! Look! My underoos are starting to slide off!” Jimmy held up the now puffy fabric of his once tight-fitting bed-wear by its loose elastic band for emphasis. They were for ages 5 through 8 and he was only 4.

“Sorry, Jimmy!” cooed the console in motherly tones “You’ll just have to wait, but don’t worry! I’ll make certain that you won’t wear any too-big clothing! Now kiss mommy and go play, you’re holding up dinner! It’s your favorite num-nums, emulsified chicken, carrots, and peas with pureed prunes for dessert.”

“There’s no helping it, is there?” muttered Jimmy to no one in particular. The android nanny came over, gave him a light smooch on his forehead, then picked him up and brought him to the nursery that had just appeared for this occasion through the “magic” of OO-Parts Technologies.

The android nanny put Jimmy on a changing table and praisingly muttered about how Jimmy was doing a good job pretending to grow up by wearing his older brother’s clothes but it was now time for Jimmy to act his age. She stripped him, laid him out, gave him a noisy rattle to play with, put a diaper under him, powdered his tush, and taped him up. Then she put him in a pink and blue striped onesie with the cartoon character of Mickey Rat on the front and put him in a playpen with lots of cool baby toys.

Jimmy awoke with a start and attempted to stand using the soft netting of the playpen to pull himself up, barely managing to stand while holding on to the padded bar of the pen and swayed to and fro. When would the youthening stop? He felt the few baby teeth that poked out from his gums with his tongue and knew he’d be bidding them farewell soon as they receded into his gums and his legs gave way to limit his mobility to crawling. Jimmy felt a wave of sadness ripple over his body and began to first whimper, then cry openly followed by loud bawling.

It was hopeless! He worried that he’d disappear by evening and knew there was nothing he could do to convince the AI of the console to stop it.

The nursery android came into Jimmy’s diminishing view. She picked him up, changed him out of his wet diaper, and took him to the kitchen where a highchair waited and was ready to take him in. The pureed chicken tasted okay, the whipped prunes were sweet. Jimmy soon found himself in the crook of the android’s arm and being bottle-fed a little formula. He felt full and contented. The android put him over her shoulder covered with a cloth and burped him.

The high chair now appeared at the console, Jimmy was strapped in and the console began “Now then, Jimmy, are you sitting comfortably? Does the diaper feel nice pressing up against your little pee-pee?”

Jimmy responded with a sound that could best be described as a cross between a raspberry and a warbling burp. “I can’t speak anymore!” thought Jimmy. This caused feelings of sadness to wash over his body again evoking the crying process anew.

“Don’t worry, honey, bunny!” cooed the console “I can fully understand you by your diminishing thought patterns. Let’s get this finished before it’s too late.”

Jimmy cried with even more vigor. His insides began to rumble as his bowels began to push out the old to accommodate the new. “Phbbbt!” went Jimmie’s sphincter as it emptied into his diaper.

“Oh, this one is such a prize!” Said the console as its voice changed to that of a cheesy game show announcer “Jim the adventurer, you have won the grand prize in our little show and we will now return you to your normal age!” Cheers went up from the audience as Jimmy blacked out.

Jim awoke the next day to the bright sunshine outside the temple. His kit was packed, stuffed with new rations, and had been thoughtfully cleaned and mended. He was wearing his Jungle Jim outfit which was pressed and more spotless than the day he’d bought it. Checking his chin to see if his beard was still there and happily confirming that it was, he looked at the dark and curly hair that covered his arms and knew that he was back to normal. His leg was perfectly mended as a bonus and he felt the alien jokers probably cleaned up several other health factors as well.

Well, nothing for it then! He bent got up, bent over to pick up his knapsack, and felt a soft firm spongy-ness between his legs. They had diapered him and it was not only wet, it was full of crap, too! Stripping down, he cleaned himself up as best he could and donned a proper pair of tighty- these weren’t tighty whities! They were adult-sized underoos! Oh well! Donning them he muttered in a gravely voice “I’m Buttman! Wait’ll they get a load of me!” had a good laugh and set out for home at last.