Fresh Start

Chapter 6
The Process Revealed

Ryan and Matt’s visits with the doctor were more routine that Chris’. Matt learned he was to be a six year old, like Davey, and Ryan found out his parents wanted him four. They both got their shots and then both were led into the same room in which Chris found himself. It was behind the main office, a Spartan room adorned only with five dentist-like chairs. Each was reclined and kids occupied all but one. One by one Ryan, Chris and Matt each had their turn in the chair.

Dr Howe led them each to the empty chair and helped them sit, slipping thick block goggles over their eyes and noise-cancelling headphones over their ears. The real secret of the chairs though, revealed itself a second after they were settled. A tiny disposable needle jabbed out of the back of the chair and injected a powerful drug into their backs. They always let out a yelp of surprise and pain when that happened but the drug was very fast-acting and within seconds they were all limp in the chair, eyes open but only semi-conscious as they took in the visuals.

It was different for each of them, tailored specifically for their eyes. For Matt it was quick flashing images of primary school kids playing on the playground, running around the field, laughing and playing at lunch. There were close ups on their smiling faces, the bright uniform shirts they wore, their dirty bare feet, the blackened or grass stained soles. Matt took it all in through a drugged haze, barely registering the words playing into his ears, telling him he was a happy little six year old, that he loved school and wanted to do well and make his mum and dad happy.

In Ryan’s case the images showed preschool children exploring their worlds, happy and curious. The focus was on them being happy, doing what mummy and daddy said, wearing lots of brightly coloured clothing. The audio told him what a happy little pre-schooler he was, that he’d always been a little four-year old and nothing more.

For Chris, who was so resolved not to give in, it was painfully defeating when he felt his muscles relaxing, his head slumping against the chair as the images began. They flickered by so fast he couldn’t consciously register what he was seeing, but he could feel his mind being imprinted nonetheless. It was impossible to look away or resist the pictures of toddlers sucking their thumbs, lying on their backs rolling on the floor, pulling their feet to their faces and giggling, sitting naked on potty chairs, smiling, proud and happy. The voice crooning in his ear was too dim to make out, but he heard it, knew it was speaking only to him. The voice told him how nice it was not to use the toilet, how wonderful it felt to do pee-pee whenever the urge struck. The voice went on about how nice it was to be naked, to run around free and unhindered, reminding him over and over that toddlers had no modesty, no concept of privacy.

They had no idea but all but the oldest group spent three hours in those chairs each. The drug in their systems made them incredibly suggestible. It was better than any simple hypnotic trance. It came straight from the rainforests of Colombia and it had the added benefit of inhibiting memory production so they didn’t recall their lengthy sessions in what Mr Belton called the clockwork orange machine.

He was very proud of their methods, even if they were occasionally too effective. As far as he was concerned there was no such thing. He was giving these children back their innocence, their freedom to be kids. If they went a bit too far back, so be it. If the parents objected he had ways of dealing with them too. Why just the week before there had been a boy in Kea Cabin meant to be nine years old at the end. But he’d gotten a bit too much of the cell-reversal drug and ended up more like six or seven physically. So naturally they’d tried to match him up mentally with his body but then that went too far and he ended up a totally incontinent three year old in a six year old’s body. Rather than tamper any more with him they’d simply brought in the parents and after a quick stint in the chairs they were happy to have a ‘special’ boy like him to take home.

The drug they used in the chairs really was the most important element in their work. Both Belton and Howe felt that the susceptibility of children to the suggestions wasn’t about strength of mind or will at all. It was about their sensitivity to the drug. Those who went into the deepest trance had their minds totally wiped of teen thoughts and memories in a single session and overnight deepening. Around 10% always awoke on the first morning fully transformed, mentally at least. About 20% more succumbed completely over the course of that second day as their triggers were said to them.

The triggers were words embedded in their minds by the programming. They were a kind of post-hypnotic suggestion, but much more powerful. The phrases were played to them over and over in the background throughout their sessions. The phrases chosen were all related to behaviours appropriate to their new age group. When they heard these phrases said it would trigger them to subconsciously recall all their programming, instantly reinforcing it. The result was that many succumbed instantly to it upon hearing the trigger that made the strongest impression to their mind.

Of course they had no idea they were even getting triggers as they had no conscious memory of the treatment. He recalled a boy last week, Jeremy, who was an older teen boy in the 3-year old group, was refusing to play in the sandpit the first day and Belton happened to be watching. Debbie, who was wonderful at her job, had just touched his shoulder and said, “I think someone needs to make a poopy don’t they?”

As soon as she said the words the boy’s eyes had glazed over and he dropped to a squat and started pushing, straining. A moment later he had a huge load of poopy in his diaper and he was grinning up at her like he’d never been happier. Belton loved it when he happened to be around to actually witness a mental adjustment. It made him so happy to see the kids get such release all at once. They went from being embarrassed, awkward or nervous to being completely at peace, silly and smiley. It was like the words made a switch in their brain flip and just like that big kid days were over, it was time to have some fun.

If the first night and triggers during the day didn’t get them though, the second time in the chair was often enough to put them over the edge. By the second morning more than half had made the transition. However, about one in three remained linked to their physical size and they only deteriorated at the same rate as their body. A final 10% or so didn’t give in until near the end. Even they lost bits of memory and ability along the way, but remained self-aware and fighting to the end. But no one left his camp with their teen thoughts intact. For whatever reason, one week was the maximum time it took to break anyone, which was why the camp was for a week. Maybe it was a coping mechanism only activated once their body was small too. Or maybe it had to do with all their friends being regressed. Belton never knew, but that didn’t matter anyway, he only cared about results.

**

The boys all returned to their cabins feeling lethargic and disconnected after their session in the chair. It seemed everyone was trudging along in slow motion. In the Kea Cabin Matt slumped into his bed as soon as they arrived back. He saw many others doing the same thing. Many could barely manage to climb into their top bunks.

Jessica however was full of energy. “Okay everyone, climb into bed, no need to change your clothes, we can worry about that later. I want everyone to see the headphones attached to your beds. You need to put those on. I will be coming around to check. You will want to listen to the music, it will make you all feel very nice.”

Matt saw the headphones in his bed. He slipped them over his ears and found music was already playing. It made him so, so sleepy…

At Penguin Cabin it was the same slow-motion story. The boys and girls plunked into their comfy beds only half-awake. Gwen hurried around undoing overalls buckles so the boys could go to sleep in just their t-shirt and undies. The boys seemed too lethargic and clumsy to do it themselves. Ryan was glad she helped him with his because his fingers weren’t cooperating and his vision was fuzzy. He couldn’t recall being so tired before.

“Okay dear, now you’ll notice the head phones. In a moment I want you to climb under the covers, put them over your ears and just listen to the pretty music. When you wake up in the morning some of you won’t remember being big teens anymore. Some of you will wake up my happy little pre-schoolers and you all get to be my special helpers. Okay, under the covers now.”

Ryan did as he was told, pulling the covers over him and slipping his headphones on. He watched as Ben did the same in the next bed. He gave the other teen a little wave and Ben nodded back, then yawned. Ryan copied him, yawning loudly. Then the music was lifting him away from here and he was…

Chris slumped into his big toddler bed in Buzzy Bee cabin. Debbie was taking off shirts so that they could sleep in just their pull-ups. He tried to ask her to leave his on but she ignored his slurred request and yanked his t-shirt away. It was okay since he was only going to bed anyway he figured. Debbie didn’t really talk to any of them, she just went around slipping head-phones onto their ears and brushing their foreheads lightly until they drifted off to sleep.

Chris looked over at Joe in the next bed. He looked tired and had blood-shot eyes but there was still a sense of strong determination about him. He’d escaped once before, maybe he could do it again and take Chris with him. All those years as a goody-good had done him no good, it was time to play the rebel a bit, he thought.

Debbie was at his side lifting the headphones onto his ears. He couldn’t fight her physically, he had to fight mentally. Don’t let this music work. He had to wake up in the morning and be normal. He couldn’t wake up a dumb little toddler. The music was lilting and not too loud, he had to strain to hear it. He felt so tired, so exhausted and…