After the Wave

Chapter 11
The Strawberry Redux

Chapter Description: F physical and slight mental AR / M object transformation. A commissioned alternate take on a commissioned original.

Chapter XI: The Strawberry Redux

Here’s what I heard happened.

Everything began in this tale just as they had in its predecessor. Sad-sack Jared, pining for Alex, blew a date. Devon had snuck Jared’s apartment key to Alex in advance. The wistful 30-year-old morosely entered his flat, stared at photographs of better memories, and went into his bedroom to masturbate into a pair of panties belonging to a girl whose name he couldn’t even remember. There was no “strawberry pair” in the mail. It was all quite unremarkable.

That is, until 18-year-old Alex walked in the door just a half an hour later, wielding a bottle of perfume. The masturbation-induced regression? She wanted to see it for herself. She wanted to watch Jared humiliate himself in front of her. To watch him jerk himself off, to see the years peel away from him, to see him get hotter and hotter, to watch him piss his bed, to watch him shit all of his knowledge and experience into his diaper. She’d be there to see it all. And she would laugh and laugh.

Then came the Wave.

And Jared wasn’t Jared anymore. He wasn’t even human. He had become the strawberry pair. Embroidered heart, pink waistband... everything, just lying unceremoniously atop a disorderly bed, silent, unmoving.

When Jared registered horror, he concomitantly realized that he could still think, that he was still capable of thought and reason, emotion and sensation. Whatever trials Alex had laid out for him were his with which to contend, and his alone.

An hour prior, Jared had been pumping blood through a broken heart. But, in the brief few seconds during which he had caught Alex’s sociopathic gaze, his longing had transmuted into fear and panic. The Wave took care of all that. Jared no longer had a heart or eyes... just thoughts and memories.

“Ooh,” said Alex. “This is even better.” The Wave had hit her, as well, though the effects with which it had cursed her would manifest themselves more gradually, as she would grow hornier and hornier by the minute. She had already started to become a little moist, though she simply attributed it to seeing her ex-boyfriend reduced to a pair of women’s underwear.

Alex was only too excited to strip. Carefully avoiding the cum-saturated panties Jared had haphazardly strewn in a horseshoe shape around his bed, many of which could stand up on their own, she set the now-pointless regression perfume on the nightstand next to Jared’s bed and set to kicking off her designer shoes. Alex undid her pants and slid them down to her ankles, partially revealing a pair of plain white panties as she bent down to do so. Indeed, she had become very wet, and the problem certainly wasn’t attenuating.

When Alex ripped off her blouse, eight buttons snapped free of their stitching and flew across the room in a hailstorm of plastic. One cracked the mirror to the right of Jared’s bed; another fell with a splash into a half-drunk glass of Chivas Regal he’d left on his dresser. Alex started gasping. She was a woman possessed... and now, standing only in a bra and dripping panties, and not having the time or the energy to bother with hooks, she grabbed a letter opener from next to the glass of Scotch, slid it up between her skin and the back of her bra, and cut the garment clean off her body with a strong, solid jerk.

Sliding her panties down her long, slender legs was a difficult proposition... the moisture that had accumulated inside them caused resistance against her flesh. But she persevered. She had to persevere.

Denuded, spherical tits bouncing, shaved pussy leaking, Alex lunged for the “strawJared pair,” stepped into each leg hole, and dragged her ex-boyfriend up her legs, securing him around her vagina and perfect ass.

Jared could only scream in his mind. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his existence as underwear... especially the pair he loved so much but could never see again, and especially while imprisoned around the loins of the woman who had shattered his soul. But when he felt a sudden pressure up against him, compressing him into a great, smooth canyon, he realized that this was the beginning of a long and arduous journey.

Alex was masturbating.

“Oh, YES!!” she screamed, grinding Jared into her hot, wet pussy. Alex slid her hand up and down, tickled herself, answered her clit’s silent screams for attention. She threw her free hand to her breast, and began to rub and pinch at her nipple, which was already engorged with transcendent sexual bliss. “Yeah, Jared! Fuck me! Fuck me like you used to!”

Her level of arousal shocked even her. Alex had never been hornier in her entire life. She worked her cunt and nipple with such abandon that both of her arms were exhausted in minutes. Alex lunged one arm down to take over on vagina duty, and brought her other arm up to her opposing breast, swinging it rather violently.

Her elbow struck a small bottle on the nightstand.

A bottle with a very loose top.

A bottle that tipped over, landed atop Alex’s naked body, and emptied no small quantity of regression perfume onto her flesh and even onto Jared, the strawberry pair.

This was no mere spritz-- and no amount of wiping or showering was likely to fix it.

But she had already begun her orgasm, and she saw it through.

For the briefest moment, Alex was wracked with a cocktail of abject pleasure and terror... but there she was again, fiercely rubbing between her legs, struggling to maintain a grip on her 14-year-old breasts.

“Make love to me!” she squealed. “Make love to me, Jared!”

She had an orgasm.

Jared had shrunk to conform to Alex’s knew body. And he was no longer the sultry, enticing strawberry pair from moments before. The strawberry was still there, as was the pink waistband, but the cotton left a lot more to the imagination. The perfect kind of underwear for a tweenage girl just learning to discover boys.

“I want to kiss you, Jared!” Alex called out in a much higher and shakier timbre. She was still rubbing herself, but -- having just turned 10 -- it was clumsy, inelegant, inefficient.

She had an orgasm.

And still, she got hornier. Alex reached up to clutch at her breasts. She had none.

Jared was in the same throes of terror. Since he had regressed to the underwear of a six-year-old -- to cover the privates of the six-year-old his ex-girlfriend had become -- he too felt emasculated, robbed of his adulthood, and would have cried had it been possible. Especially if he had been aware of what he looked like... a little girl’s underwear, dotted with pink hearts-- but with that strawberry in the corner. Still with that strawberry in the corner.

“I have a cw- crush on you, Jaw- Jared!”

She had an orgasm.

Alex was sweating. She just kept slapping the crotch of the training pants Jared had become. The pink training pants with the rainbows and the ponies... and, of course, the strawberry. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do?

Ow! Ow!! Ow!!! was all Jared could think. The sentient pair of Pull-Ups was being slapped silly. It hurt.

And then... Holy schamoly! Alex thought with glee. She had finally managed to reach the ultimate orgasm-- the orgasm of a lifetime!

So why wasn’t it stopping?

To her horror, Alex realized that she wasn’t having an orgasm at all. She was peeing her training pants. She was peeing into Jared. Though she was humiliated, Alex couldn’t deny that the sensations -- both physical and psychological -- had their advantages.

Jared felt no such advantage. The minute his ex-girlfriend’s piss washed into his fabric, he wanted to hurl. He was only grateful he lacked the anatomy to do so.

She had an orgasm. And, as they are wont to do, things got worse.

Jared got thicker. He felt as if he had just had a stack of four cheesecake-filled pancakes at the IHoP. Safety pins appeared out of the aether and bound the front panel of Jared’s saturated self to the sides that had magically wrapped around him.

He was a diaper. Jared had become a cloth diaper. And, in the corner of the front panel? The goddamned strawberry he wished he’d never, ever seen in the first place.

“Me wuv Jawed,” Alex cooed in a most infantile voice as she stumbled unsteadily about the man’s apartment. She shoved her thumb into her mouth and giggled. Fortunately for her, her horniness -- like Jared’s own, in the urban legend that’s been passed around -- vanished when she hit two years old.

Unfortunately for Jared, so had Alex’s bowel control. And she dumped quite a load into her ex-boyfriend.

Devon ended up adopting her and raising her as his own, even taking on a second job to do so. Whenever he laundered Alex’s dirty diapers, he always got the strangest feeling about one of them, one of a strange familiarity on which he couldn’t quite put his finger. And, each time, he’d shrug and throw it into the wash... the strawberry pair.

Kids, that’s the funny thing about urban legends. Though most are false, some are true. You get to pick which is which for yourself.

to still be further additionally continued with more words.