Andrew awoke after having the strangest dream. Before he opened his eyes, he sought to ground himself in the memories of the day before reviewing the disturbing content of the dream itself. The dream had been so incredibly detailed and complex that he could hardly distinguish between his actual memories and the dream. Somehow the dream had blended with the memories of the day before until they seemed like a seamless sequence of events. He remembered having a conversation over the three-foot-tall, steel-wired cyclone back fence with his neighbor Allie about washing techniques. Andrew had just finished mowing his small backyard and his neighbor was hanging up her wash on the line when he asked her why she didn't get a dryer instead of hanging out the wash. Allie had replied that she had a dryer, but that drying the clothes in the Sun gave them a fresh scent that no dryer could possibly match. Allie told him conversationally as she pinned her blouses to the steel line that the Wind and the Sun gave clothes a clean smell that no dryer could ever possibly match. Allie noted a little sadly that sun drying was especially important for baby clothes. She added in a maternal aside that her mother had told her when she was a little girl that the only way to dry a cloth diaper perfectly was to hang a freshly washed diaper in the breeze and let the Sun sterilize it. Allie smiled in remembered disappointment and said that the knowledge that her mother had passed on to her might never be of use to her, but she wanted Andrew to know in case he became a father someday. She shook her head as she continued to pin her blouses and underwear to the line with clothespins.

As she worked, she told him that she only used the dryer on rainy days when she had no choice and that on a perfect Spring day like that day, there was no reason not to take advantage of the Sun and breeze. He had told her that Spring had only brought him his annual sinus condition and had instantly loosed a violent sneeze as if to make his point. Upon hearing Andrew's loud nasal eruption, Allie stopped what she was doing and had come over to the fence to suggest to him in a maternal way that perhaps if he took a nice hot bath maybe the steam would open his sinuses so that he'd feel better. Andrew had agreed to take her advice, telling her he was planning to take a nice long bath that night.

Andrew really liked his neighbor and was very attracted to her slim build that her tight fitting jeans displayed so well. Her ample bosom was contained neatly within the white ruffled blouse that she wore that morning, giving him a slight tingle of sexual titillation as he watched them bob up and down in response to her bending and straightening as she hung the clothes on the line. He remembered wishing that she was closer to his age so he could ask her out, but the gulf of five years made him feel like she was more his mother than a possible girlfriend. Rather than run the risk of embarrassing himself by asking her out, he had long ago decided to have her his confidant rather than his girlfriend.

Once the decision had been made, they had quickly become casual friends, occasionally grocery shopping together so she could teach him how to select ripe produce and help him learn the rudiments of cooking. In return, he would check the oil, water and transmission fluids on her car, even though she was perfectly capable of doing it for herself. Actually, Allie was completely self-contained. After her ill-fated marriage at eighteen which endured a stormy three years, but seemed to last an aeon , she was perfectly content to stay single. Her parents had died in the same year of her divorce, leaving her a huge trust fund which would easily support her for the rest of her life. Rather than spend the money frivolously, she elected to live a simple life in a small home which she owned outright, volunteering her free time to help at the neighborhood Daycare center for the poor.

Her only regret in life was that she wanted a baby of her own. She had formally applied to the State adoption service, but the fact that she was single counted heavily against her even though her well-documented trust fund proved that no baby of hers would ever feel the sting of financial want. They told her that with the long waiting list for childless couples, that it was unlikely that they would have a baby available for adoption for her soon. One of the councilors had felt sorry for her and had told her "off the record" that she might try a private adoption agency. Most private agencies were less concerned with placing infants with couples, then with the financial status and good record of the adoptive parent. She warned her though, that private adoption was likely to be very expensive. Allie had reminded the councilor that she had plenty of money and thanked him for the idea, saying that she'd begin looking into the prospects with a private agency immediately. It didn't take her long to find an agency that agreed to attempt to find a baby for her.

After talking to him about his sinuses, Allie had excitedly told Andrew that morning about the discussion she had had with the young woman at the private adoption agency the day before over a cup of coffee. She had told Allie that it would take from three to four weeks to find a baby for her to adopt. The only stipulation the woman had made was that the agency only had baby boys for adoption and that oftentimes the children had congenital physical problems. She told Andrew that she would rather adopt a healthy baby girl rather than a sickly boy, but she agreed to look at the baby boy if one was found for her.

Andrew vaguely remembered going to the local Walgreen's Pharmacy that afternoon to pick up his refill for Allegra that had been prescribed for his sinus problem. From that moment on, his dream memories seemed to have taken over. He could not for the life of him remember what he had really done that day. In the dream, he had been standing by the pharmacy counter waiting for his prescription and had noticed an incredibly attractive blonde haired woman of about twenty-six years who was browsing through the diaper aisle opposite the pharmacy. He was captivated by her beauty and was immediately struck by a desire to meet her. He remembered from the dream, that he would have liked to strike up a conversation with her, but his sniffles and runny nose caused his courage to fail him and he merely cast surreptitious longing glances at her instead.

In the dream, Andrew had suspected Kyrstyn was a young mother because she was shopping for diapers, but his infatuation with her lovely appearance overcame his natural reticence and he continued to glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Finally, she caught him staring at her and flashed a quick smile back at him. Andrew immediately shifted his gaze over to the top of another counter to make it appear as if he was scanning the tops of the aisles to read the hanging signs that listed the product types. She made her selection of a package of Pampers disposable diapers, then walked over to the pharmacy counter and selected an OTC children's medication for sinus problems. As she picked up the medication from the rack she began a conversation with him, noting that he seemed to have allergies. Andrew broke out in a sweat as he explained with a stammer and downcast eyes that he was just getting over a sinus condition. Despite his obvious nervousness, the two began to chat.

In the dream, Andrew had overcome temporarily overcome his jitters and asked her if her baby also had sinus problems. She laughed merrily, telling him that she was single and didn't have any children of her own. She explained that her business put her in frequent contact with small children and she kept a ready supply of diapers and baby things for her charges. Then she introduced herself by telling him her first name and went on to tell him that she ran an adoption service. Andrew looked interested and asked her the name of her company. She chuckled and told him that the name of the service was the same as her own last name; Rockaby. She explained quickly that the name of her company was Rockaby Adoptive Services. Andrew politely introduced himself in turn and told her he was a student at the local college majoring in English. Andrew was totally captivated by her and soon found himself telling her that his parents had died recently and that his small inheritance was financing his way through college. She commiserated with him about his recent loss and asked him if he saw his brothers and sisters often. Embarrassed with the intimacy of her question, Andrew explained that he was an only child and that aside from the passing acquaintance of his next door neighbor, Allie, he doesn't know anyone in town well enough to talk to about his life.

While they waited for the pharmacist to refill Andrew's prescription, Kyrstyn invited him to her house for coffee. With thumping heart, he graciously accepted her invitation. She smiled broadly as he accepted and told him that she only lived a few blocks from the pharmacy. In the dream, Andrew was ecstatic, there was something about her smile he just couldn't seem to resist.

As they left the pharmacy, Krystyn asked Andrew if he wanted to follow her home in his car. Andrew blushed furiously as he admitted he didn't own a car and had to either walk or take a bus to get around town. The money he had inherited from his parents was just enough to get him through his Baccalaureate and Masters if he was frugal and didn't waste his money on things that he didn't truly need. If he was lucky, he'd get a job in the English department so he could get his Doctorate in English. Otherwise, he envisioned himself playing the role as an English teacher in some benighted High School where English was the mother tongue but had become the second language for the horde of semi-civilized, barbaric, Kitsch mouthing, sub-intelligent teenagers that roamed the halls in search of sexual or physical conquests. The very thought of being condemned to that particular genre of anti-academic Hades gave him the shivers.

While he had gained a small reputation on the track field as a faster-than-average runner, he had never attained the status of star runner for the school. As a consequence, the main advantage his running abilities had granted him was the ability to decamp physically threatening situations at speeds no bully could match. He had had enough experiences with football jocks in his own High School to know the psychotype well and had no desire to repeat the experience. Although Andrew was always on the lookout for a potential girlfriend, he never seemed to be able to find one who met his needs. All his female classmates seemed to be either have a boyfriend already or be totally absorbed in partying and getting intoxicated on drugs or liquor. His selection of English as a major as well as his lack of a car wasn't any help to finding a girlfriend either. "English" as a major, simply wasn't sexy like Film Art, Jazz Saxophone or Anthropology. Even a major in Biology would have served him better than English to attract girlfriends, but his interests and his skills forced him to take the route that would ensure his academic survival.

Andrew explained his lack of personal transportation by telling her that money was tight and that he couldn't afford to get a car until he had graduated and had gotten a job. Krystyn nodded understandingly and led the way to her mini-van.

When Andrew got in the passenger seat in the front of her mini-van, he noticed that Krystyn had a baby seat permanently mounted in the seat behind his seat. He notice with some amusement that she had sensibly placed a protective plastic mat under the baby to protect the van's upholstery. Krystyn was obviously the sort of person who took preventative measures before accidents happened. Andrew noted that the seat had shifted slightly in position but the inch-wide ridges in the mat where the seat had been before had remained imprinted in the stiff plastic. Apparently the plastic of the mat had been permanently deformed by the weight of the baby seat. The deep indentations in the mat told him that the baby seat must have been in the mini-van for a long time, certainly for months and perhaps for a year or more. The seat itself looked well-used; the fabric padding had a worn patina where the almost imperceptible nap of the smooth cloth had been worn away. From Andrew's limited experience with old furniture, he knew that the slightly glazed look on the fabric of the seat could have only come from constant polishing by diapered little bottoms. Andrew smiled at his own observational and deductive faculties; he was an ardent admirer of Agatha Christie's detective novels and fancied himself quite the junior detective.

Upon arriving at Krystyn's home, she unlocked the door, invited him in and ushered him into the living room to sit on the couch while she made a pot of coffee. Andrew looked at the triple row of framed baby pictures on the wall while he waited, realizing that the pictures must be of the babies that Krystyn had previously placed with families. Andrew had decided that the adoption business must be very lucrative; the living room was very large, fully sixteen feet wide by eighteen feet long. The floor was constructed of solid hard maple parquet and the walls were painted an attractive color of pale rose. The room was well appointed with what appeared to be brand new furniture. Krystyn popped her heard out between the swinging door to the kitchen and the doorframe for a moment and told him that the coffee would be done in a minute, but that she had just remembered that she had to make a quick phone call in behalf of a potential client. She assured him that her call would be over before the coffee was done and to make himself comfortable.

When Krystyn returned with the coffee service on a large silver tray along with a large bath towel she put to the side of the couch, saying in explanation, "I brought the towel in here in case there's a spill on the rug. There's nothing wrong with being prepared for the unexpected!" They chatted amicably for a minute, exchanging pleasantries and she offered to take him on a tour of the house before they had their coffee. He accepted and she took him back to the hall and showed him her office in the front of house, off the main hall. Then they toured the bathroom, kitchen and family room on the first floor. After they had seen the first floor, she led him up the mahogany banistered stairway and showed him the second floor. A quick peek at her large sixteen-by-eighteen foot bedroom revealed a queen-sized bed with a wrought iron canopy with black metal ivy leaves that curled around the posters to disappear into blood red canopy hanging above. The walls were painted a rose color like the living room, but it was of a darker, more sensuous hue. Andrew had a hard time believing how detailed his memories of his dream were. It felt like he had actually experienced being in that house. Every detail was exact and crystal clear in his mind. He remembered seeing a glass-topped sitting table over by the window made of matching wrought iron with the same ivy motif with blood red cushions on the chairs. A matching candlestick was centered in the table with alternating twelve-inch black and red tapers.

The single glimpse of her bedroom had made Andrew's heart pound in the dream. The strangeness of the wrought iron furniture had given him the spooky impression that the ivy was once a living thing that had bloomed in some person's well-tended garden and had somehow magically transformed into dark-dun, dead metal by some evil spell. Nevertheless, the color scheme in Krystyn's bedroom affected him strongly; the room reeked of sexuality and power. For Andrew's deeply repressed sexual drive, a single glance was all that it took to give him a massive erection, even in his dream. This was a woman of self-confidence, of money, of power, someone who could fulfill dreams his subconscious had not yet formed.

His spine tingled at the very thought of laying naked with her and made him quiver in anticipation of an event that would breach his wildest imaginings. She would rule over him in perfection while he groveled at her feet below. Andrew had shaken his head in his dream to rid his mind of the fantastic scenes that filled his mind. Krystyn had intoxicated him by her very presence. She was the epitome of female power and sexuality to his immature psyche. She symbolized feminine power incarnate. He would have been glad to trail behind her silently to the ends of the Earth, eternally grateful if she would only turn from time to time and bless him with the radiance of her smile.

When he looked down at the protuberant bulge in the front of his pants, reality of his ridiculous fantasies stuck him like a cold washcloth in the face. She wasn't the sort of woman for the likes of him, he knew. He had no business thinking of her that way. She had no sexual interest in a gawky, inexperienced youth who was years younger than her. She was only being kind to a young college student she was befriending out of kindness, pity, or worse, a sense of public duty to a lonely sophomoric dweeb. Once he had regained his senses, he was only glad that walking behind her in the hall gave his tumescent condition time to subside before she turned around to talk to him again. He would have died of embarrassment if she had seen him in such a condition.

As they went down the hall, she turned the knob on one of the doors to show him the nursery which she used for housing for her temporary infant charges. Andrew was surprised at the height of the door handle on the nursery's entry door; it had been mounted at an astonishingly high position on the door casement. The handle was at least four and a half feet from the floor! When she swung open the heavy wood-covered steel door, he saw the latch had a spring-driven extra-long two and one half inch bolt that sank deep into the doorframe when the door was closed. As Andrew walked in the room, the door swung slowly at first and then slammed shut under hydraulic pressure when it reached the last two inches of travel. The door seated itself automatically in its wood-colored, steel jamb that was almost perfectly hidden behind the screwed-on, walnut-butted trim with matching corner blocks and plinths that graced the regular wooden doorways in the hall. The illusion of normalcy was dispelled when the bolt slammed home with a distinctive metallic snap, making the steel strike plate emit a soft, short ring as the solidly bound steel fame resonated and gave audible assurance that the door was firmly latched.

"Evidently," Andrew thought, "she's had some problems with babies getting out of the crib and wandering around at night. I can't say I blame her for being concerned. If a baby fell down those stairs he might be badly injured. The way she had the door handle mounted is a bit odd, but I suppose it's a wise precaution when you're not sure how smart the baby you'll be housing next week will be."

The walls were painted a somewhat depressing shade of dark baby blue with heavy black walnut baby furnishings. The curtains were the same shade of dark baby blue and were so densely woven that no light from the outside penetrated the thickness of the fabric. If he had opened the curtains, he would have seen that the windows themselves were constructed of a thick sandwich of bullet and shatterproof Lexan plastic held in place by steel casements that matched the door. Outside the windows of the room, Krystyn had had one-inch diameter "decorative" iron burglar bars installed that could only be opened with a special tubular "Ace" lock key from the inside. The window casement itself had locks mounted on either side that required similar but different tubular keys to open the windows. Aside from cutting through the ten-gauge thickness of continuous arc-welded steel plates that underlay the innocent-appearing plaster wallboard of the walls and ceiling as well as the wooden parquet floor, there was no escape from the room. Even the high frequency screech of an infant's cries would be completely absorbed by the three-quarter inch layer of high-technology sound suppressing foam that lay beneath the steel plate of the room's floor, walls and ceiling. No noise, from the merest whimper to the loudest wail, could escape the sonic security in which Krystyn encapsulated her charges.

The sameness of the color and lack of decoration gave the room an ambiance that discouraged unwanted activity and thought. Just looking at the walls dulled Andrew's mind and made him sleepy. It was obvious that this room was never meant to raise a baby in, but only to provide a temporary holding place until the adoptive mother came to take her child home.

The nursery's only decoration, if it could be called that, were the presence of three identical nondescript brown teddy bears mounted on little platforms about seven feet off the floor on three sides of the nursery. The teddy bears were so plain and unadorned that Andrew couldn't imagine why Krystyn had taken the trouble to have expensive matching walnut shelves made for them so they could be displayed so prominently. They had been affixed to their platforms in such a way that they leaned forward in an attitude of dutiful watchmen. The unblinking eyes of the teddy bears gave Andrew the singular impression that they were guardians that somehow watched over the nursery. Certainly their vantage point and position gave the trio of bears a perfect view of everything that happened in the nursery. They gave him the strange feeling that they were some sort of infantile version of living temple statuary that gave omniscience to the goddesses who ruled the female-dominated kingdoms of dark, forbidding nurseries.

Aside from the odd decoration, the nursery was well-ordered and spic and span-new from the ceiling to the baseboards. The floor, bedding and walls were immaculately clean; there were no children's toys or dirt to mar the perfect order that prevailed in the sober nursery. In the corner of the room was a dark hued high chair made of heavy black walnut and cushioned with navy blue padding. Beneath the high chair was a dark blue plastic pad to keep the room neat when the baby was fed. Next to the high chair, against the wall, stood an adult chair that was evidently meant for Krystyn's use when she fed her charges. On the right side of the room was a low child-sized armoire with a large acrylic jar on top filled with blue handled, round-nippled pacifiers. Andrew smiled at the sight of the pacifiers, despite the depressing motif, Krystyn had to accede to an infant's desire to suck in order to keep it quiet. A baby might be subdued temporarily by the décor, but if it felt the urge to suckle, the only course was to give into its demands or suffer through its wails of discontent.

Next to the armoire sat a large dark-wooded rocking chair with a receiving blanket draped over the top. On the other side of the room was a large dresser of dark oak with an integral changing station built into the top. Above the dresser was a mirror that had been mounted with a pronounce tilt so that the baby being changed could see himself during the diaper change. Flanking the mirror over the dresser were deep spaces in the wall to either side of the mirror were shelved with Swedish Elna white-epoxied, wire-bottomed open shelving units stacked high with unopened and opened packages of various sizes of disposable diapers, spare plastic tubs of Pampers baby wipes, tubes of Desenex, and several big jars of perfumed nursery vaseline. Next to the dresser stood an white conically-shaped plastic bin that was about twenty-four inches tall, slightly less than a foot in diameter at the base and approximately eight inches across at the top. From the look of the rose-tinted transparent lid and it's position next to the changing station, Andrew surmised that it was some sort of high-tech diaper pail for disposable diapers. Although it was a sensible way of disposing of diapers, the technology of the pail made Andrew uncomfortable. It seemed to him that babies and their diapers should smell as a rule and Krystyn's solution had removed some of the inherent humanity from the nursery.

Andrew had the odd feeling that Krystyn had somehow made some sort of evil exchange where the normal stinks of the nursery had been traded for an adult's sensibilities at the cost of sacrificing a normal environment for an infant. Andrew dismissed the vagrant thought immediately as he caught the slight vanilla scent of baby powder from the changing station reach invitingly out to him across the room.

Andrew looked at the well appointed nursery and decided that his ill foreboding had been nothing but flight of fancy. "So what if the diapers don't stink?", he asked himself, "Krystyn has made a perfectly reasonable addition to the nursery that any modern mother might make. Nursery odors are bad enough without having wet and dirty diapers to add to the stench. I must be reading too many Gothic novels lately! Maybe I should lighten up and reread Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales' or Apuleius's 'Golden Ass'. They're good for a chuckle or two!"

The heavy wooden crib in the center of the room next to the wall had no proper head or footboard, instead being surrounded by thick dark bars on all sides. The design of the crib was one Andrew had never seen before; the four-inch posters at the ends were curled outwards at the highest point in a style that was reminiscent of a large black wooden sleigh. To heighten the effect, the posters had a circular scrollwork carved into their sides that matched the plinths on the doorway. Andrew noticed that the mattress in the crib had been set to an extremely low level; the bottom of the crib could not have been more than eighteen inches from the floor. Since the ends of the crib were almost five feet tall, that meant that an infant would have to surmount a barrier of almost three feet to climb over the rails. Even with the side dropped all the way to the floor, the top of the railing would still be two feet above the crib mattress. Krystyn would have to stretch herself to bend over the dropped side in order to pickup a supine infant from the mattress.

Even a four-year-old would have had difficulty escaping that crib, Andrew thought. Evidently, Krystyn had no intention of letting her charges climb out of the crib and hurt themselves. The black walnut rails gave Andrew the eerie feeling that the crib was more of a jail cell mounted on a wooden sleigh than the place of rest and refuge for an innocent infant. Against the wall stood a playpen of similar design with the same cage-like atmosphere with dark, dusky-blue plastic padding. Andrew felt his eyes drawn inexorably back to the heavy slats of the dark crib. If an adult had been somehow forced to sleep in the crib, Andrew had no doubt whatsoever that the unfortunate person would have nightmares that he was being transported in the dead of night in a somber Siberian prison sleigh to some shadowy snowy gulag in the Russian wilderness where privation and isolation made escape impossible. The thought made a chill of anticipatory horror run down his spine. Andrew shook his head to throw of the wintry sensation that crept down his spine and circumscribed the crack between his cheeks to make the guts in his lower abdomen churn as his testicles drew close to his body for protection. He knew that his recent reading of "Dr. Zhivago" was to blame for his condition. He had lain in bed at nights with the book he had borrowed from the library and shivered in sympathy when the innocent Doctor had been sentenced to Siberia.

After a few moments, the chilly sensation passed and Andrew fell into his normal mode of observation. He looked up at the "Guardian Teddy Bears" mounted on the walls and noticed an oddity that he hadn't seen at first glance. There were thin fabric-covered boxes behind each of the Teddys. Moreover, for the first time since he had been in the room he realized it was filled with the soft strains of consoling cradlesongs that came from no particular direction. The sight of the crib had so disconcerted him that he had totally missed the music. Obviously, the nursery had a surround sound system built-in utilizing the newest omnifocal piezoelectric speaker system manufactured by Noise Cancellation Technologies that he had read about in a technology awards issue of Discover Magazine. From what Andrew had read, the speakers didn't have a "sweet spot", instead they turned the entire volume of the nursery into a "sweet space". Andrew couldn't see the stereo console, but the speakers that were half-hidden behind the teddy bears mounted on the wall were clue enough to its existence. Apparently Krystyn never turned it off; soft, relaxing melodies of lullabies were playing in the empty nursery even though the room had no occupant.

The nursery had it's own bathroom, with a built-in changing station and baby bath equipped with a hand sprayer on the counter at waist height as well as a normal sink. To the side of the changing station stood the same sort of diaper pail that was in the nursery proper. Oddly, there was a mirror in front of the baby bath so the baby could see itself, but there was none in front of the sink. Andrew could not imagine why it was so important that the baby should see itself that a mirror had been mounted in that particular place. He guessed that it was intended to distract the babies with their own image to make bathing them easier. Like the nursery, the area to each side of the mirror had open Elna shelving units built into wells in the wall where the accoutrements of a baby's bath were stored. He noticed that the racks were filled with neat stacks of washcloths and towels for baby's bath in addition to unopened and opened packages of disposable diapers, spare plastic tubs of Pampers baby wipes, bottles of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and oil as well as a stack of bars of Johnson baby soap, and two jars (one open, one unopened spare) of vanilla-scented nursery vaseline. The aroma of the opened packages of diapers pervaded the bathroom with an attractive clean, sweet, smell of baby powder instead of the slight reek of disinfectant and cleansers one normally encounters in bathrooms.

In the corner of the bathroom, there was a white porcelain toilet, but it's main function seemed to be emptying the solid contents from dirty diapers rather than a toilet's usual purpose. Permanently mounted nylon latches on either side of the lid prevented little hands from opening either the lid or the seat for normal use. Only an adult's dexterity and hand strength could open the toilet's lid. Opposite the counter in the bathroom, there was a built-in combination washer-dryer for baby clothes, along with a narrow dishwasher, bar refrigerator and stove-top for warming bottles. Krystyn opened the dishwasher and showed Andrew that the tiny dishwasher had been fitted with a special wire container with a matching cover for washing nipples and pacifiers without the contents popping all over the washer when the water jet hit the container. Above the stove-top was a small cupboard and pantry were Krystyn stored the canned formula, baby food, bottles and plates. Krystyn was evidently proud of her arrangements; she took great pleasure in showing the pair of multi-tiered lazy-susan organizers for the baby food jars which allowed her to select the exact jar she was seeking by merely rotating the lazy-susan with the tip of her finger. She pointed to the speakerphone mounted on the wall next to the door and said that she didn't even have to leave the nursery to answer the phone. If she desired, she could use the voice-controlled speakerphone instead of the handset and hold a phone conversation from either the nursery or bathroom without stopping what she was doing. Krystyn explained with pride that she had all the supplies in the bathroom/laundry/kitchenette to care for her little charges without ever having to take the baby from the nursery until the client was ready to take possession of her new baby.

As they descended the stairs, Andrew thought about what he had seen. Although she hadn't offered to show him the first floor, he had a strange feeling that her office would be occupied by a rather simple wooden desk without the obligatory computer system that all businesses seemed to require to maintain records. Kyrstyn gave him the sense that she would not tolerate giving control of her life to anyone or anything for any reason. They nursery had been clue enough that she liked high technology, but the position of the door handle revealed that she would never surrender herself to something as unmanageable as a computer. In many ways, Krystyn reminded him of Allie; they were both independent women who chose their own course through life, so unlike his own event driven existence. Both of them cared for babies in their own ways; Allie did free Daycare work for the poor, while Krystyn ran an adoption service. He was hard put to decide who he was more attracted to; Allie, with her simple and wholesome motherly approach to life in spite of her personal wealth, or Krystyn, who was obviously successful at her calling, and had a feel for high technology when it served her as well as a powerful sexual side to her nature.

Krystyn guided the way to the living room so they could sit down on the couch while they drank the theretofore untouched carafe of coffee. As Kyrstyn poured their coffee into the white china cups, the doorbell rang and Kyrstyn excused herself to answer it. She invited the visitor in and introduced Andrew to the matronly, thirty-five-year-old woman who entered the living room as Rebecca. Rebecca immediately told him to call her Becky and explained that the babe in her arms was her nine-month-old son, Joey.

While Andrew and Becky were engaged in conversation in the living room, Kyrstyn went to the hall closet and removed a portable playpen. A few minutes later, Krystyn returned to the living room with the portable playpen under her arm. After giving a nodding signal to Becky, she began to unfold the sides of the collapsible mesh-sided playpen for the Becky's baby. The conversation ground to a halt while Becky waited expectantly for Krystyn to make suitable arrangements for the baby she held in her arms. While he waited for the baby to get settled and the conversation to renew itself, Andrew looked at the baby boy in Becky's arms. By any standards, he was adorable; dressed in nothing but a thick disposable diaper, he had the fine thin hair of that infant boys have in their first year and middle-aged men acquire as their maturity approaches seniority. His chubby cheeks were obviously those of a baby who obtained most of his nourishment from suckling and the soft, uncallused skin of his feet and red spots on his knees attested that he had not yet learned to walk and still crept about the floor on all fours.

The baby seemed to huddle to his mother's breast in fear of his surroundings. His tiny fists gripped the folds of her blouse tightly as his little fingers kneaded the silky fabric in apparent anxiety. Then the baby turned his head to look directly at Andrew. The direct penetrating stare of the infant alarmed Andrew briefly, before he noticed the wet drool running down the infant's chin. For a moment, Andrew had the distinct impression of intelligence behind the baby's eyes before the rest of his face belied the benign befuddlement of infancy. Nevertheless, Andrew was disturbed by the unthinking gaze of the infant; his blue-in-blue eyes seemed to emanate a look of demoralized helplessness. Becky put the baby in the playpen and dropped his diaper bag on the floor beside the couch. Then she rummaged through the bag and to find the baby's pacifier and put it in his mouth before sitting down to drink coffee with Andrew and Kyrstyn.

The three of them sat on the couch to enjoy Krystyn's brew and chat together. Krystyn asked Andrew if he would like to stay for dinner later, but after stammering his apologies, he declined as politely as possible, explaining that he had an exam in the morning to study for. There was something about baby Joey's look that had disquieted him. An ominous feeling of impending doom made him want to disengage himself from a potentially embarrassing evening no matter how beautiful Krystyn was. Andrew had no doubt in his dream that it was Becky who made him feel so intensely uncomfortable. There was a feel of malicious intent about her that made him want to run and hide his face in Krystyn's bosom for protection. Unfortunately, he could think of no way to politely get up until he had at least shared a cup of coffee with the two of them.

Krystyn grinned and said mischievously, "Well, then…If you're not staying for dinner, do you think you'd have time to indulge yourself with a lovely, juicy cherry for the few minutes you have remaining to you? I think you'd find the experience both sweet and slightly intoxicating! I've grown to savor the delights that Flemish women have created by blending French and German concepts in self-indulgence. So much so, that I find my day is incomplete unless I partake of their sensual pleasures at least once a day! Although I try to ration myself, I often find myself with an irresistible craving that simply can't be ignored!"

Andrew choked and practically swallowed his tongue in astonishment. Was she implying what he'd thought, or had he completely misinterpreted she'd said? Was she offering him…No, he must have misunderstood. His manhood rose to the seductive siren call of a beautiful woman who seemed to be intimating that she wished to lay with him, despite his mental confusion over the offer. "Well? Cat got your tongue?", she asked with a huge grin at her sexually-loaded wordplay as she picked up a large sterling silver box from the coffee table and opened it, "Are you sure you won't have one of my chocolate-covered cherries? They're French Burgundy cherries laced with German Kirsch and covered in the finest Belgian Dark Chocolate. They're reputed to be the finest chocolate-covered cherries in the world. Are you sure you won't have one?"

"No thank you," answered Andrew with a sigh as his manhood wilted, "I'm allergic to dark chocolate."

"What a pity, Krystyn said as she popped a chocolate in her mouth and sucked it dry before allowing the chocolate to melt in her mouth, "I'm quite addicted to dark chocolate. As far as I'm concerned, the darker it is, the better bitter." She chuckled at her own pun and continued, "There is nothing so lovely as the taste of sucking the cherry-flavored syrup out of it's chocolate shell before I bite down on it and crush the cherry with my teeth. "Of course, you understand…," she said with a lopsided smile that indicated that she was hiding her true feelings, "that I only suck out the syrup before I chew the rest of it up because I don't want to stain my blouse with the cherry juice. Burgundy tinctured syrup is almost a difficult a stain to get out of clothing as blood is."

Andrew shuddered slightly at the woman's seemingly innocuous comment. The undercurrent of sex, blood, destruction and darkness in the conversation was making him nervous. Suddenly, he saw her bedroom motif in a new light. The reference to sucking out the juices before consuming the object of her desire made her sound like a Black Widow spider who believed that she had already trapped him in the sticky strands of her web and was only waiting for the right moment to pounce. Although it was plain to Andrew that she was teasing him, there was something about her that early writers of English folklore and imitators of the genre like the justly renowned J.R.R. Tolken would have termed "fell".

After a few minutes of light, innocuous conversation, Andrew politely asked Krystyn to pass him the sugar bowl and to both the women's delight, he ladled five heaping teaspoonfuls of sugar into his coffee cup as if he was a child being allowed to "fix" the taste of the aromatic black coffee by a pair of indulgent aunts before he imbibed the bitter beverage. Becky grinned broadly when he finished stirring his coffee to dissolve the mound of sugar he had dumped in his cup and Andrew asked if he could have some milk for his coffee. Kyrstyn shook her head in mock sorrow and had said that she had run out of milk a few days before. She explained that she drank her coffee black without sugar as did Becky and that she usually kept low-calorie, non-dairy creamer on hand for unexpected guests. She apologized for the inconvenience, stating that she had unfortunately she had run out of creamer the day before when a prospective client had visited her to inquire about an adoption.

With a knowing smile, Rebecca reached into the diaper bag beside her to withdraw a capped baby bottle of milk and suggested he use it instead. As she removed the cap and nipple on the baby bottle poured a dollop of milk into Andrew's cup without waiting for permission from Andrew, the baby's face took on a look of absolute horror. Andrew was too shocked by the woman's chutzpa at adulterating his coffee with baby formula to argue and sat in open mouthed silence. Becky's baby was another matter. He gooed and gaaed loudly in anxious excitement, provoking indulgent smiles from the two women. Becky ignored the baby's incoherent objections as she assured Andrew with a smile that there was nothing wrong with the baby's formula. She turned back to her baby son and said in a patronizing aside, "Don't worry, Honey! Mommy will always make sure there's plenty of formula for you!"

Andrew remembered demurring for a moment, feeling guilty about taking the baby's formula before Becky told him that she had several full bottles of infant formula in the bag. She assuaged his fears about contracting some infantile disease from her baby boy by assuring him that both the bottle and nipple had been sterilized before filling the bottle with formula. She reassured Andrew that the baby hadn't touched the bottle yet and that the contents were absolutely virgin. For some strange reason, the statement made both women titter uncontrollably.

Suddenly, the import of their tittering made itself clear to Andrew. Despite the fact that he found drinking baby formula in coffee somewhat strange, he lowered his head as he held out the his cup of coffee for the proffered milk in an attempt to hide his flushing cheeks. He realized that the women had somehow divined that he was a virgin and were giggling among themselves at his lack of sexual experience. His personal embarrassment at their amusement turned the acceptance of Becky's offer of baby formula into a test of manhood for him. If he was man enough to drink baby formula in his coffee, he rationalized, then they would see that he was their equal and quit laughing at him. If he quailed and rejected the offer, than it would prove that he was nothing more than a temperamental child who wanted everything to be perfect before he'd accept food or drink from strangers.

Andrew's logic was flawed; nothing he could do would change Becky's and Krystyn's opinion of him in the slightest. In reality, his private thoughts were nothing more than a rationalization for his acceptance of the women's wishes. Andrew's fear of rejection and deep seated feelings of inferiority made it impossible for him to argue with a strong-willed woman even in a dream. As he sipped on the formula-laden coffee, Kyrstyn coughed delicately and put her hand in front of her mouth. Andrew couldn't be sure, but he caught a faint murmuring sound from her as if she was muttering or chanting something under her breath. Andrew remembered that in the dream, he discovered that the taste of the coffee was not at all bad; the rich formula had definitely added to the taste of the coffee and he had unconsciously smacked his lips in appreciation at the sugary concoction. Both women had beamed at his reaction and had smiled knowingly at each other.

Andrew took a deep draught of the delicious milky-sweet coffee and smiled back at them, beginning to feel at ease for the first time in the strange household. He finished the coffee while the women made small talk about how Joey was doing in Daycare. Moments after emptying his cup, he felt a dizzy spell and half-dropped it down on the saucer with a clatter, knocking the spoon onto the table. He laid back against the couch as a pulsing wave of heat coursed from his head to his toes.

Soon the pulsing became a fiery throb which he felt in every part of his body. He broke out in a sweat as the women watched with apparent unconcern. Andrew panicked, but he was unable to speak because his throat had dried up as his internal temperature rose. The hot throbbing of his body soon changed into an intense burning sensation that began at the ends of his toes and ended at the most distal part of the hairs on his head. He felt like he was on fire. He gestured at the cup, then grunted out, "Caaaan't taaalk. Neeeed trink!", to tell them he was horribly thirsty.

Becky obligingly filled his coffee cup with the milky contents of the baby bottle and held it out to his shaking hands. Andrew seized the cup with both hands and downed the contents with one gulp, grateful for the sweet soothing liquid. Within minutes, the burning sensation cooled and changed into an intense itching sensation wherever his clothes touched his skin. After a few moments of motionless suffering, Andrew's eyes glazed over and became filled with torture induced sightless madness. Without thinking, he hurriedly began to unbutton his shirt and disrobe in front of the two women as if they weren't there.

The itching sensation spread until every square inch of his body was sending alarm signals back to his brain. It was all he could do to keep his hands from scratching himself until his body was a bloody ruin. In truth, Andrew immediately lost the ability to see the women in the dream, because of the blood-red cloud that obscured his vision. His ears were filled with a loud buzzing sound that blotted out whatever reality that remained in his mind. All he could think about was getting out of the clothes which were threatening to drive him into screaming, writhing psychosis. Moments later, he was blindly standing stark naked in front of the two smirking women. Then he collapsed to the floor in a loose-jointed heap as if he was a marionette whose strings had been cut. He moaned piteously on the floor as the baby watched through the mesh of the portable playpen with wide eyes; Joey was well aware of what was happening, he had seen the same scene repeated with other men a dozens of times before.

Andrew thrashed on the carpet for a moment and then became still as a new change came over his body. Every pore on his body started exuding steaming clouds of foul-smelling aldehyde-laden vapors as his body writhed on the floor in paroxysms of bone and muscle-wrenching agony as his anatomy reorganized itself from within. The women seemed amused by the odd hills and valleys that appeared on his skin as his skeletal structure and internal organs transmogrified themselves in hideous ways; at one moment his belly seemed to collapse upon itself, leaving a shrunken area between the bottom of his rib cage and the top of his pelvis that seemed to be filled with a handful of writhing grass snakes squirming over his spine. Then his belly resized itself to that of a small child while the left side of his rib cage broke free of his sternum with an audible repetitive snapping noise as the cartilages that held his ribs in place separated. The two women watched as his detached right ribs seemed to dissolve in fraction of a second, collapsing his right lung and allowing the throbbing outline of his heart to be seen beneath the thin covering of skin as it pumped fiercely in an attempt to survive the ordeal. The cloud of condensing steam from the carpet grew in thickness until it became an obscuring white fog that crawled amoebae-like over his motionless torso to screen his body from the view of the two women who sat less than six feet away from him. They never saw the destruction of the right side of his rib cage, although they could hear the machine-gun cracks of his sternal cartilages and loud wheezing that accompanied his final gasp as his left lung collapsed and he began to strangle for lack of air. Within seconds, Andrew's feet disappeared from view as he was completely inundated by the dense fog that obliterated the final details of his transmogrification.

Krystyn smiled as she thought for the hundredth time how much the effects of her spell appeared as if she had conjured up a half-alive demonic vapor to swallow her victim and feast on their manhood instead of being a simple manifestation of a spell to reduce another male twerp to his proper place in life. It was only fitting that a man should be reduced to his proper position while enclosed within a foul-smelling effluvium that reeked of infernal, soul-damning, torment amidst the torturous sounds of their joints being rent asunder as the spell broke and refashioned the skeletal bones of their limbs and torsos into that of the little boys that they truly were.

As she watched, eddies in the cloud formed and were whisked away by the room's air conditioning ducts, exposing the sweat-drenched body that lay supine on the carpet in helpless horror and bone-breaking pain. Although his torso was still covered, his hands and arms became visible as the changes slowed down due to a lack of fuel. The two women watched in spellbound fascination as his fingers and toes began to draw themselves into the structural bodies of his hands and feet. Once his fingers and toes were gone, his arms and legs followed suit, drawing themselves backwards into their respective skeletal girdles as they diminished in circumference.

Andrew's limbs looked as if they were telescoping into themselves as his legs and arms simultaneously shortened and dwindled in diameter. Andrew's High School Class ring slipped off his size one index finger and dropped to the living room carpet, bouncing once before coming to rest on the short nap of Krystyn's carpet. A moment later, his wristwatch slithered loosely from his tiny wrist, working it's way easily over his two and one-quarter inch palm to fall to the carpet with a soft thud and lay beside his ring. Andrew's eyes rolled back in his head as he laid motionless on his back volatilizing excess water from his shrinking body. His grossly disproportioned limbs writhed helplessly in the air like boneless tentacles while streams of hot vapor shot to the ceiling as the water in his body was magically pulled from his body. The balance of the steam that was cool enough to remain at floor level condensed around him as if he was either an exhausted afrit that had been loosed from an undersized genie's lamp or a poor soul who was about to be transported on his own personal cloud straight into Heaven.

For a moment, the transformation abated itself, leaving the formerly tall college student with the arms and legs of a baby, ridiculously attached to a rib-less naked adult male torso surrounded by a pearl-white translucent mist of water vapor. Then the transformation began again; this time attacking his genitals a split-second before his pelvis, neck and torso followed suit. Within seconds, the rest of his body had regressed to the size and apparent age of an eight-month-old infant. All that was left of Andrew's former body was his adult-sized head.

When the transformation was finished, Andrew looked like a wingless cherub who was resting himself on the carpet. The only evidence of his transmogrification was a rapidly dissipating halo of water vapor around his head. When the sunbeams which lanced through the window stuck the water vapor, the light was diffracted into a local rainbow that encompassed the upper portion of his body with a surreal aureole of a mercurially shifting aura. The multihued glory that danced around his head made it appear as if he had somehow been blessed by the change, rather than cursed by Krystyn's spell.

Krystyn grimaced at the sight of the misty, light-shot halo that crowned Andrew's head as she always did when she witnessed her victims immediately after their transformation. The beautiful nimbus that played about the men she changed gave her the uncomfortable feeling that nature itself was rejecting the justice of what she did. Krystyn thought the manifestation of the halo was the most unseemly part of the spell's side-effects. By all rights, the men should have been surrounded by a dark black aura that revealed their iniquitous nature. Instead, the luminous aurora gave the men she rejuvenated an innocent appearance that made them appear like sinless cherubs.

Because of the physics of the simple spell, Krystyn was unable to easily counter the aura it produced by modifying the spell's construction. Since a human body is eighty percent water, a huge volume of water had to be extracted from the body of an adult for it to reduce to the size of an infant's tiny volume. After all, the water that her enchantment pulled from the victim's bodies had to go somewhere! Redirecting the water to another place would have involved linking a transportation enchantment to the original spell and might have caused cross-talk between the esoteric energies involved. It was always safer to keep one's spells simple and separated to minimize the possibility of psychic backlash from a poorly constructed enchantment.

Nevertheless, the inappropriate angelic appearance of Krystyn's victims displayed immediately after their metamorphosis into babyhood had always irritated her. Babies or no, they were still male, and ipso facto, they were still evil creatures.

The torture of his transformation had unmanned Andrew; he lay on the wet carpet gasping in relief from the sudden absence of pain. Andrew looked up helplessly at the women grinning down at him and tried to speak, but the oxygen demands of his adult brain were too great for his infant-sized lungs and heart. His vision tunneled down into blackness and he began to pass out. The last thing he heard was the lovely sound of Kyrstyn's chuckle as she got up to turn on the air-conditioner fan to expel the reek of his transformation before she sat down again. Neither of the women seemed to be worried about his blackout. He never heard Krystyn tell Becky with a housewife's sigh that she would have to thoroughly shampoo the carpet before the stain that Andrew's transformation had left on the carpet had a chance to set. Becky had chuckled at Krystyn's dislike of housework and had told her with a grin that there was always cleanup to do after a major spell. "At least you don't have to expend any more magickal energies to remove his identity from the records," she told Krystyn with a smile, "If all you have to do is run your carpet shampooer for a few minutes, you should count yourself lucky! It could be worse, you know. If he hadn't been a friendless college student with no relatives, you'd have had to use magick to make him an 'unperson'. You know that magickal operation takes the combined energies of the majority of the Coven two days to effect. If you had to cast the spell by yourself, it could take two weeks!"

A few minutes later, Andrew's head cleared a bit and looked around the room in confusion. He turned his head to see Kyrstyn pouring herself another cup of coffee while they waited for the transformation to complete itself. She picked up his pants and emptied his pockets, dumping the contents on the coffee table in a small heap. Once she was done, she picked up his underwear, shirt, shoes and socks and separated them into three piles. Krystyn stuffed his sweat-stiffened, smelly socks into the depths of his odiferous, tattered, black running shoes who's sides were adorned with black grimed, diagonal rubber stripes that had once been the purest shade of white when they were new and said, "I'll be glad to get these things out of my house! I'll bet you can smell them from where you sit! They're positively rank! How can men put on shoes like these? They reek to high Heaven!"

"Because most men are babies and don't realize how smelly they are," Becky replied with the knowledgeable smile of an experienced mother of a baby boy.

"Well, these things are not even fit to give to Salvation Army!" exclaimed Krystyn, "They're going straight to the industrial incinerator along with his wallet and anything else that might identify him! If I bag and put a few drops of garbage deodorizer in the plastic bag, do you think you might have time to drop them by Rachael's house tomorrow? Since she's the plant security guard at the auto factory here in town, she should have no problems disposing of these the way she usually does for me. I don't want to leave any evidence, but you know how I hate to take one of my 'babies' out of the house until he's adjusted to his new life."

"I'd be happy to leave them with Rachael," Becky answered, "I have to go by her house to give her some ingredients for an experimental incantation she's working on anyway, so it won't be out of my way. I'll call Sheila tonight and have her remove his things from his apartment by the usual means." She chuckled and said, "By tomorrow, all of his physical property will have been transported to a garbage dump in other cities!"

"Good! I hate loose ends!", Krystyn said as she pinched the two heels together between her thumb and forefinger and held them out the shoes at arms length to protect her sensibilities while she ferried them into the kitchen. She placed them in a plastic ziplocked bag along with his wallet, then unscrewed the top of a small white vial of deodorizer and shook a few drops onto the smelly gym shoes. Once she had zipped the top of the bag closed, she dropped the bag into a small white plastic garbage bag and repeated the operation with the plastic vial of deoderant and tied the top of the bag in a knot. Then she placed the bag in another plastic bag and shook a few drops into it. After knotting the second bag, she repeated the entire operation with a third bag. When she was done, she came out of the kitchen with a small white plastic bag that was neatly knotted at the top and exuded the faint smell of cloves. She gave the bag to Becky and folded Andrew's shirt and pants carefully into a neat stack while placing a small, white plastic empty garbage bag on the coffee table. She laid the stack beside her on the couch saying that she'd drive over to the Salvation Army's parking lot some night later that week and make an anonymous contribution of his shirt and pants in their all-hours collection bin.

She chuckled and told Becky that she had a "special" art project in mind for his undies as she daintily picked up his soaking wet, dirty underwear between two fingers and dropped them into the empty garbage bag that she had placed on the coffee table earlier. Once she had finished with his clothes she went back and picked up his ring and wristwatch, dropping them on top of his underwear. Kyrstyn noticed that he had roused somewhat from the effects of the spell and told Becky that it wouldn't take long for Andrew's head to reduce in size to match his infant body. She observed that it's former dimensions had already reduced by a third and that it was shrinking rapidly to fit the size of his rejuvenated body. Kystyn smiled down at him and said conversationally to Becky that once his brain shrunk and reduced it's oxygen demands on his body, he'd wake up fully so they could talk to him again.

A few minutes later in the dream, the fog in Andrew's head had lifted and the madness had gone from his eyes. He saw that he was laying naked on the carpet in front of the women, making him blush furiously. "What happened to me?", he had asked himself in the dream. Trying to cover his genitals with one stubby-fingered hand, he awkwardly put his hands behind him to push himself up to a sitting position sit on the floor. As he sat up, he saw his feet and toes and realized that something was very, very wrong. His toes had become stunted and chubby were joined to feet that were barely six inches long...His feet and toes looked exactly like baby's feet!

Andrew put his hand in front of his face and saw that it too had undergone a similar transformation. He looked at Kyrstyn and tried to ask her what happened but all that came out was, "Mmmmgaaaa caaaa?" Becky grinned broadly at Andrew's expression of panicked confusion as she reached into Joey's diaper bag to take out a disposable diaper, saying to Krystyn, ""Please allow me the honor of putting the first diaper on your newest baby boy!"

When Andrew heard her remark, he suddenly realized that he had somehow been transformed into an infant. His emotions ran wild and he began to cry in frustration as Becky knelt beside him to diaper his bottom with the disposable diaper. Becky smiled as she looked down at Krystyn's latest victim and said in an aside to Krystyn, "I just love watching the expression on men's faces when they are reintroduced to diapers! It's almost as precious as the first time they pee and poop themselves!"

As Krystyn patted the wet crotch on the pants she had just picked up and folded and said with a chuckle, "Well…I don't think it's been THAT long since Andrew has been out of diapers! I know he wet these BEFORE he changed into a baby!"

As Andrew tried to squirm away from her, Becky put her palm on his diminutive chest and easily forced him backwards to lie supine on the carpet again. Krystyn smiled down at him and took the towel she had brought out with the coffee and tossed it to Becky to sop up the puddle that the moisture from his transformation had made on the carpet. Becky rolled him over quickly and spread out the towel on the wet spot he had made, then she rolled him back over to lie on his back on top of the towel. She took his ankles in one hand and lifted his legs to slip the plastic covered padding beneath his bottom. Once the diaper was positioned, she let his legs down and effortlessly brushed away the tiny hand which Andrew was still using to maintain the last shred of his adult dignity. Becky pulled the diaper up between his legs with a tug so she could tape the sides, ignoring the protests of the infant college student who lay before her. The diaper's strong fragrance of baby powder overwhelmed Andrew's sensitive baby senses and threatened to make him swoon from sensory overload. His mind reeled from the powder's pleasant perfume that permeated his brain as she finished taping him securely into his diaper. Nothing else could have persuaded him of his transformation into infancy quite as convincingly as the sickeningly sweet miasma that arose from the disposable diaper to surrounded him with the odor of purity and innocence.

Once Becky had protected the house from the incontinent issues from his bottom and tiny pee-pee, she put her hand underneath his armpits and hoisted him in the air, carrying him to the playpen to deposit him into the mesh-walled prison alongside baby Joey. As Andrew's bottom came to rest on the playpen's pad, the plastic covering of the disposable diaper crinkled loudly in Andrew's ultra-sensitive infant ears. He moved his legs and discovered that the slightest motion on his part produced a cacophony of irritating scrunching noises from around his legs and crotch. "Oh God, help me! She's put me in a baby diaper!", Andrew thought in exasperation at the dinning reminder of what he had become as he straightened out his legs. The two women smiled at each other triumphantly and chuckled at Andrew's predicament.

"Well, well, well,…little Andy!", Krystyn said with a sneer, "It seems that you've decided to stay for dinner after all." Krystyn giggled and continued, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that I have very, very special menu for your din-din tonight. Something you haven't had for many, many years…"

Becky smiled evilly and added, "Oh, yes…I think Krystyn forgot to offer you the hospitality of her home for tonight! Allow me to do that for her. I don't think you'll be able to go home tonight in your present condition. Kystyn tells me that you don't own a car and would have to take the bus or walk home. I don't think either option is viable for you in your present condition. You can't walk and I seriously doubt that you could reach the top of the fare box on the bus with your tiny arms. Besides, the city buses don't allow children under ten to ride without an accompanying adult. But that's okay, Krystyn has a nice room all ready for you upstairs. Of course, it won't be the one you had hoped to sleep in when you came to this house, Krystyn doesn't like waking up on wet sheets that little babies make. I'm afraid that you'll have to sleep on a mattress that's more suitable to your present condition. You need a mattress that's firm to support the weak muscles of your back as well as…waterproof!"

Both Krystyn and Becky laughed cruelly and she continued as she went over to the playpen to remove her own baby and hoist him onto her hip while she continued to talk to Andrew, "She has a sweet little crib all ready for you upstairs with a rubber-backed flannel pad under the crib sheet so you won't soak the bed when you make wetties in your diaper while you sleep! It has nice, safe high railings to keep you from wandering in the night and falling out of your crib and bumpers around the edges to keep your itty-bitty arms and legs from getting caught between the railings. We wouldn't want Baby Andy to accidentally crawl away during the night while Krystyn is sleeping, now would we? Hims will stay safely tucked in his nice crib with the high railings until Aunt Krystyn decides it's time for him to come out in the morning. Besides, Baby Andy wouldn't want to sleep with his Auntie anyway. His little pee-pee is too small for adult play. Oh, he might enjoy sucking on Aunt Krystyn's tiddies, but she has plenty of pacifiers for him to use when he feels like sucking on something other than his thumb.

Ohh, by the way, I don't think I've had the chance to tell you that your playmate in the playpen was my husband. He's a bit older than you I'm afraid, but I think the two of you have a lot in common now. I caught him running around on me about four years ago and I changed him into what you see beside you. I left him with his adult mind so he could appreciate his punishment, but I'm afraid that four years of being a nine-month-old infant have taken a toll on his mind. He's become so emotionally infantile of late. I suspect that soon you'll find yourself succumbing to the same pressures. After all, Krystyn made you even younger than he is. I can't expect an eight-month-old to have the same powers of concentration that a nine-month-old has, can I? When he found out that Krystyn and I were lovers, he was so bourgeoisie! He immediately ran out and took a mistress as if I didn't exist. I couldn't have that, could I? He had never given me the baby he had promised me! I would have thought that a forty-year-old man would have been more mature and have kept his promises to his wife before running off, but then most men are such children. Granted, his money and investments allowed me to pursue my hobby in the occult, but breaking one's word to a high priestess of one of North America's most powerful covens just isn't done. He had to be punished for his impertinence. In his case, he took the place of the baby he never gave me."

"Look at the poor darling," Becky said, chucking the baby resting on her hip condescendingly under his weak, toothless chin before replacing him in the playpen beside Andrew, "…he can't make up his mind to be terrified of me or hide his little head between my tiddies for protection. As for you, little Andy, you committed the sin of lusting after my precious Krystyn. Even though I'm a High Priestess, I'm still a jealous lover. No one sleeps with Krystyn but me! She called me so she could add your picture to the wall with all the other baby boys who wanted to sleep with her. After three weeks in her care, you'll have forgotten all about the life you had before. Krystyn has told me that she has the most wonderful mommy in mind for you. She'll be happy to pay for the privilege of bathing you, feeding you baby food and changing your diapers each and every day for the rest of your life. I imagine she won't even mind getting up in the middle of the night to give you your bottle of formula. In the meantime, Honey, I suggest you get used to wearing wet and dirty diapers and drinking out of baby bottles. The spell has one unfortunate side-effect that I've not quite managed to overcome. You and Joey and all the other men that I've changed will stay the same age for the rest of your lives."

Tears started to flow unbidden from Andrew's eyes when he heard the last statement. The psychological shock of being turned into an infant had quieted him for a moment, but when he realized that his life was going to be one endless round of diaperings and feedings under some strange woman's thumb, a well of despair surged up and made him start to cry. Joey sat in the playpen beside him and just looked at him blankly as a yellow stain grew under the semi-translucent white plastic of the disposable he had started to soak.

"Cry all you want, little Andy!", said Krystyn, "Aunt Krystyn wants you to practice sounding like the infant you've become. In three weeks, no one will ever guess you were ever a man, least of all the woman who will adopt you! Look at it this way, you won't have to study for an exam ever again! You'll never be turned down for a date or have to worry about getting a job after you graduate. You won't even have the embarrassing experience of finding yourself impotent when you try to satisfy some poor woman who has the misfortune to be sexually attracted to you. That's all been taken care of. All you have to do is accept what's happened. It won't be so hard.

After a few days alone in your nursery, you'll squeal in delight at the sight of me and beg to be picked up and cuddled in my arms. You'll learn how nice it is to feel a warm wet diaper between your legs and how good it feels to suck on a spit-sodden thumb. You'll never be really dry again, Baby. If your bottom isn't wet, then your tummy will be drenched in drool, if not your belly, then your chin. You'll lay on your back and suck your cute little toes out of boredom. It will make you feel good to make them wet too! If your mouth is dry and you want your ba-ba, then you'll cry and the tears will run down your cheeks and into your ears. After a few days on formula and puréed veges, your poop will be all soft and wet too. It won't be long before you'll be on your hands and knees in your playpen trying to make a nice wet poopy in your diaper because it feels soooo good! You'll spend half your waking hours nursing on your ba-ba because of how good the warm wet formula makes your tummy feel. The rest of the time you'll be sleeping. While you're sleeping, you'll drool, pee and poop yourself without even knowing it to keep yourself happily wet and comfortable. Every morning you'll wake up on a sopping wet sheet and that will feel good too. I know. I've seen it happen over and over with every man I've changed into a baby. Look at the pictures on the wall, they were once big, strapping college men and now look at them. Look at the pleased smiles on their faces! From the looks on their faces, you'd never guess that they had once been full grown men. Before I allowed them to leave this house they became the contented infants you see in the pictures! Every one of them is a happy little baby now, content to mess in his diapers and suck on his ba-ba. You won't be any different, I promise you."

Andrew stopped crying during her tirade and looked over at Joey for some sign that what she said was true. Joey didn't return his gaze, instead his attention was turned inward to some demanding need that had to be answered before all else. Joey grunted, then smiled in satisfaction as if he had accomplished some task of great importance. The fetid odor of a dirty diaper reached Andrew's nose and he realized that Joey was too far gone to help him escape his fate. When the reek hit the women, they smiled and looked at the two babies in the playpen wondering which one had messed his diapers. Becky smiled when she saw the sagging front of her ex-husband's diaper, then turned and said to Andrew conversationally, "It looks like my Joey has pooped himself again. Did you notice, LITTLE Andy? He didn't even cry! He hasn't cried when he's messed for a long, long time. Look at the grin on his face. He enjoyed pooping in his diapers! You will too in a few days, you won't be able to help yourself."

Krystyn nodded and added, "It won't be very long before that coffee hits Andrew. Why don't we leave the two of them as they are until they both need changing. I want Andrew to get used to the smell of dirty diapers as soon as possible! After all, he's going to have to live with the smell for the rest of his life. I'd also like Andrew to watch his playmate getting changed just before I change his diapers. That is, if we adults can put up with Joey's stench that long!"

"I'm sorry about the smell, Krystyn," Becky said with a self-depreciating chuckle, "I only put Joey back on an all-formula diet yesterday. His poop won't stop stinking for at least two more days. After that, he shouldn't smell much at all. Commercial formula isn't as good as mother's milk, but it's still less stinky than solid food. If I felt like breast feeding him all the time, his poop wouldn't have any odor whatsoever. But I'll be damned if I'm willing to suffer from sagging boobs just to keep him from being a little stinker!"

All at once Andrew realized that something untoward was happening in his crotch. There was a growing feeling of warmth that was crawling toward his bottom. "Oh God, No! Please help me!", he screamed to himself mentally, "I've just wet myself!" Then he began to cry again. Joey looked at Andrew and blinked rapidly as his eyes seemed to fill with intelligence. Joey's face clouded in an adult realization of where he was and what he had done in his diaper and within minutes, the two of them were crying their hearts out in the playpen.

Krystyn glanced her watch before looking at Andrew and said with a smile, "That was a little sooner than I expected. I do believe that someone we know must have a congenitally small bladder! His mother must have had the dickens of a time toilet-training him!"

Becky grinned and reminded Krystyn, "Remember what he did to his pants before the transformation was complete? Are you POSITIVE that he was potty-trained?"

Krystyn chuckled at Andrew's embarrassed expression and said, "Let's take the boys up to the nursery and change them, then I can put Andrew down for a nap. You know, I used to use a diaper service but the boys didn't seem to mentally regress as quickly as I wanted them to. Somehow most of my baby boys seem to love peeing in a disposable diaper rather than cloth. Frankly, I can't for the life of me imagine the difference, but they become adjusted quicker if I diaper them in a disposable first rather than the other way around. I have no idea why they feel that way, but it's become apparent to me that they object to disposables at first, so I make sure that they get to experience the things that they hate as much as possible before they're adopted. Frankly, I'd rather use a diaper service from the beginning, but if it makes their transition into babyhood smoother for me, I'd rather put up with the expense! Once I found out what works best, I just increased the price of my service to cover the additional initial costs. If their adoptive mothers want to put them in cloth diapers, it's fine with me! My only concern is to get them ready for adoption as quickly as possible!

The sooner they get used to their surroundings, the quicker they'll make the adjustment. I've found that if I leave babies in the nursery for long periods of time by himself right after the change, they become docile and quiet after about three days. Once their initial resistance is broken down, most men find they enjoy being babies again. Even if they don't, they get so demoralized about their inability to talk, their muscular weakness and their total incontinence that they're incapable of defiance. Once they reach that stage, I don't have to worry about them trying to escape.

She turned to Andrew and said with a vicious sneer, "Not that escape is possible from MY nursery! I have safeguards against escape that you'd never think of in your wildest dreams! Once I put you in my nursery, there you stay until I think it's time for you to leave. And that will only happen when I know that there's nothing left of your brain except a puling, drooling, wordless mass of gray matter that acts exactly like normal baby and has no memories of its former existence! Accept it, Andrew! You're doomed to be a baby forever!"

Becky got up from the couch and picked up Joey while Krystyn stood at her side. Andrew was mortified to find himself hoisted up and drawn to Krystyn's bosom without any apparent effort on her part. The noisy pee-soaked disposable diaper squished wetly on his bottom as she cupped her hand around his plastic-covered, padded behind and held him tightly to her chest. He whimpered in shame and hid his head in her neck as she carried him up the stairs to have his diaper changed.

When they reached the nursery, they took the boys straight the changing station on the dresser. Krystyn turned Andrew in her arms to watch as Becky laid Joey on the plastic mat of the changing station. "Can you see Joey clearly, Andrew?", Krystyn said with a chuckle of amusement as she stood off to the side to allow Andrew an unobstructed view of Joey's feet and pubes from the vantage point of her arms, "Aunt Krystyn doesn't want you to miss a single moment of his diaper change! See how his mommy is removing his diaper? Look at how tiny his balls are! Do you know that your little wee-wee and balls are the same size as his? In the next few minutes you'll be occupying his place on the changing pad! Aunt Krystyn wants you to see everything that's happening to Joey so you'll know what's going to going to happen to you next! Now watch Aunt Becky change little Joey closely! See how little his tiny ankles look in her hand while she lifts his bottom from the wet diaper? Look at the brown mess he made all over his cute little bottom. I'll bet your little behind will look the same way when I take your diaper off! In a few minutes, you're going to have the same thing happen to you that's happening to him right now! See the pleased expression he's getting because his mommy is cleaning him up and putting him in a fresh diaper? I guarantee that within the next few weeks, you'll have the same expression when someone changes your dirty diaper too!"

Andrew stared in horrified fascination as Becky removed Joey's dirty disposable diaper and lifted his legs to wipe the muck from his messy bottom. Joey quieted a little, stopping his crying as the dirty diaper was removed and then he started to whimper unabated through the rest of the process. Once she had him reasonably clean, she dropped the used baby wipe in the middle of the diaper and pulled it from beneath him. Then she took another wipe and finished cleaning him before she lowered his behind to the plastic pad. Joey squirmed a bit on the plastic pad uncomfortably while he waited for his ex-wife/Mommy to finish changing him. Becky checked several packages of diapers on the shelves before she found the right size for Joey, then she took a disposable diaper from one of the plastic bags of Pampers and opened it up, then lifted Joey's feet once more in one hand while she slid the diaper beneath his bottom. Becky lifted his ankles once more as she opened a jar of nursery vaseline and gave the area behind his tiny testicles and the crack between his cheeks a quick coating of the sweet-scented goo. Then she sprinkled a light coat of baby powder on his pubes before drawing the diaper up between his legs and fastening the tapes on each side. Once she was done, she picked up Joey into her arms and signaled Krystyn that it was Andrew's turn.

As Becky moved out of the way for Krystyn to pass with her charge, Andrew quailed at the thought of having his diaper changed like Joey. Krystyn laid him gently down on the plastic mat and proceeded to pull the tapes back from his diaper. Andrew was intensely uncomfortable on the mat, Joey's presence had left a thin film of perspiration and tears on the mat where his shoulder blades and the small of his back had touched it as Becky had lifted his legs and rolled him back during the diaper change. As a result, the mat was both damp in spots and stuck to his skin wherever else he touched the plastic surface. Andrew tried to wriggle himself into a less unpleasant position, but the tacky surface of the plastic adhered to the skin of upper arms and prevented him from shifting his position on the pad. Somehow laying in another infant's sweat on the changing pad made his fate that much more humiliating.

Andrew blushed furiously as Krystyn pulled the diaper down between his legs to expose the wet skin of his crotch. He averted his eyes in an attempt to ignore the indignities that were being performed on his helpless body and suddenly saw his reflection in the mirror above the dresser. Although Krystyn covered most of the image, what he saw so disheartened him that he closed his eyes for the rest of the diaper change. The sight of his infant face was appalling! His cheeks had ballooned out as if he was an ancient trumpet player with overstressed cheek muscles while his chin had lost all definition and character. The innocent blue eyes that returned his astonished gaze were not the eyes of an adult. His face looked weak and babyish and seemed devoid of any maturity. Andrew squeezed his eyes tightly together to shut out the image of infancy that threatened to unhinge his mind. "What has she done to me?", he thought in dismay, "Even I didn't recognize me! What will all my friends say if they see me like this?"

A single tear escaped his right eye and trickled down the side of his cheek as Krystyn continued to diaper him. He had never been so humiliated in his entire life. Krystyn wasn't any help; she tickled his tummy as if his mind had regressed to the same age as his body. In spite of himself, he giggled uncontrollably as she moved her fingers around his belly and began to tickle the skin underneath the bulge of his protuberant abdomen. The tickling caused his abdominal muscles to contract, producing the inevitable reaction from a body with an infant's reflexes; he spurted a jet of urine high in the air, nearly soaking Krystyn with the yellow arc. Krystyn moved with the alacrity of long experience with changing incontinent infant boys. She caught the stream deftly with the soggy diaper that was nearby and held it between his legs until he stopped.

Andrew whimpered in embarrassment as she bent over him and said sarcastically, "Not quite finished wetting your diapers, Baby? Don't worry, Aunt Krystyn will have you in a nice dry diaper before you know it. Then she'll put you in your crib for a nap and it's off to beddy-bye for little Andrew!"

Krystyn efficiently grasped his ankles in one hand and lifted his bottom so she could make a quick swipe with a baby wipe. She wasn't concerned with him getting diaper rash on the first day; she knew his skin would get irritated soon enough. After some twenty odd years of being potty trained, his skin had gotten used to being dry. Once he spent a few nights in a wet diaper, he would get a rash no matter what she did. She had read somewhere that the skin hosted a number of what scientists called microflora, i.e., microbes that live on the surface of the skin. Yeast, or more properly fungi, (usually called a staff infection by physicians), existed in détente on its host with bacteria. If either colony became predominant, then the host suffered with a microfloral skin infection. When they were in balance, the colony of staff produced bacteria inhibiting chemicals that kept the bacteria in check. When the ecology of the skin changed, so did the population of the microflora on the host. In the event that someone was suddenly re-introduced to diapers after many years, the rapid expansion of the colony of bacteria that normally lived on the skin feasted on the uric acid contained within the urine soaked diaper and produced ammonia as a byproduct. The alkaline ammonia in the spoiled urine reacted with the amino acids of the skin and would produce a rash in short order.

After a week or so, his skin would become less sensitive to chemical irritation and the slower growing fungus would make its own adjustments to the moist environment and increase it's population to balance the growth of the bacterial colony. The yeast multiplied rapidly in the presence of water and would soon begin inhibiting bacterial growth on its own. Within two weeks, his skin would have the same relative proportions of microflora that any infant had and his skin would become substantially less sensitive to ammonia in self-defense. After that occurred, unless Andrew was kept in a wet diaper for an inordinate time, he would not suffer any deleterious effects of being in wet diapers. Using barrier creams or anti-diaper rash ointments only delayed the inevitable. The ecology of his skin had to readjust to it's changed conditions. Krystyn knew that Andrew's mind had to using diapers as well. It was better that he suffer early on when he still had most of his adult faculties and was less fussy, then have an extreme case of diaper rash once he had accepted his role and would begin crying unceasingly at the slightest sense of discomfort.

For those reasons, Krystyn didn't put any vaseline or baby powder on Andrew's pubes before she rediapered him. That would come later, first he had to get used to his new station in life and let his body adjust. If he started crying and whimpering in frustration and pain from his diapers early on, so much the better. She had a business to run and the faster he was reduced to helpless infancy, the quicker she could turn a profit. Pain, humiliation and discomfort were an essential part of her retraining program for her charges. She didn't have the slightest intention of making sure he was always comfortable at first, her efforts at his physical comfort would come later when he was ready to accept her as his caretaker. In the meantime, just getting him to accept wearing diapers and sleeping in the crib of his nursery would be enough for the night.

Once she had diapered him in Pampers disposables for his nap, she carried him up to the nursery to his crib and lowered the side of the railing to lay him on the hard, thin mattress of the crib while Becky followed behind, enjoying every moment of Andrew's humiliation. Then Krystyn covered him with the receiving blanket that had been draped over the back of the rocking chair and left him in the crib while Becky watched over him to prevent any attempt to escape. Krystyn went over to the changing station on top of the dresser and withdrew an object from the clear acrylic jar that stood at the rear before returning to the crib. Becky smiled evilly chuckled and said as Krystyn's hand neared his face, "Krystyn has something for you Andrew!"

Andrew looked at the hand which unmistakably had an object concealed by Krystyn's fingers draw closer to his lower face. A two-inch diameter blue plastic toroidal ring that was obviously attached to the hidden object flapped on the fleshy part of Krystyn's hand between the thumb and forefinger. Becky continued by saying, with a chuckle, "It's something Krystyn gives to all of her little boys."

As Krystyn opened her fingers, Andrew lowered his eyes to see what she had brought him. To his horror, he saw her expose a baby blue-colored pacifier with a soft round nipple as she moved it closer to his mouth. Andrew was devastated by the women's plans. Not only did they want to diaper him, they wanted to humiliate him by making him suck a pacifier like a baby. If he hadn't been afraid that they would have used his open mouth as an opportunity to inflict their will on him, he would have screamed in anger. Instead, he held his mouth as tightly closed as he could manage to deny them the opening.

Becky motioned to Krystyn and said in a sickeningly syrupy voice, "Oh, come on, Sweetie! You'll love it, I promise. All babies love to suck on their pacifiers!"

Andrew resisted his fate by clenching his toothless jaws together as tightly as he could manage. Becky made a small motion with the tip of her forefinger across her cheek and lips to signal Krystyn what her next move should be, but Krystyn's hand was already in motion. She knew what to do to force a recalcitrant infant to accept "his binkie".

Becky grinned broadly as she watched Krystyn brush Andrew's cheek lightly with the tip of the nipple before she returned it to the surface of his lips. Andrew's restored baby instincts made his lips purse forward in quest of the promise the sensation had made. Krystyn smiled as she touched his lips with the end of the latex nipple to dampen it and draw him further into her mundane maternal spell. Andrew's lips sucked instinctively, trying to pull the object into his mouth that was that was only millimeters from his reach. Krystyn passed the end of the binkie lightly over his lips once more before she positioned it under his nose and slid the nipple home between his lips. The slightly damp end of the latex nipple easily penetrated his closed lips to find its proper place in the warm wetness of his mouth.

Andrew was horrified. If he had had teeth, it would have never happened, but his toothless gums could not offer any sort of barrier against a determined assault. Without teeth, his gums had a large gap in them that could be exploited by anyone who wished to force their way past the weak muscles of his lips. The worst part of it was, after Krystyn's careful preparations, he realized that his mouth had willingly accepted the pacifier! He tried to make his tongue force the foreign object out, but his subconscious had taken control and he couldn't make himself spit the shameful thing from his mouth. Some part of him wanted to suck on the nipple and he was powerless to overcome the urge!

Andrew clamped down immediately with his jaws and tongue to try to control the situation but was dismayed to discover this was exactly what his infantile urges demanded. His cheeks pulled in as he began suckling on the nipple, drawing it further in and pressing it to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Andrew tried to stop, but the urge to suckle was overpowering. A rhythmic motion set in as every muscle in his mouth contributed to the act of nursing. With each suck, he found himself becoming more sleepy with each passing moment. Andrew wanted to cry in frustration, but the soothing sensations from the pacifier made it impossible for his conscious mind to upset the gratified feelings that his infant body was producing. The act of sucking was simply too powerful for his adult mind to overcome. As his eyelids drooped in blissful surrender, Krystyn said in a voice that was at once maternal and condescending, "Goodnight Baby! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

When Andrew's breathing slowed and became abdominal rather than thoracic, indicating a true state of sleep for an infannt, Krystyn raised the side of the crib and latched it with a distinctive metallic click as the mechanism locked the side of the crib in place. The noise roused Andrew for a few moments and he whimpered a little as she turned out the light when she and Becky left the room, feeling lonely and abandoned within the high confines of his crib. He continued to suck on the pacifier as he ineffectually rolled around on the mattress, unable to relax in the confines of the plastic-covered disposable diaper that hugged his loins and bottom so closely. Andrew prayed that God would find some way to deliver him from his fate, wishing he had never met Krystyn. Unaccountably, the soothing lullaby coming from the hidden speakers became slightly louder and seemed to fill the room with its relaxing melodies. After ten minutes, he grew used to the feel of the soft padding that protected the sheets from the effluent of his infantile sphincters and drifted off into a light doze as his cheeks moved in and out while he suckled the latex nipple in his mouth. After a few minutes more, the emotional exhaustion of his transformation caught up with him and he was sleeping soundly under the thin blue fleecy blanket. He was still sucking on the pacifier when he fell asleep again.

Krystyn went downstairs with Becky who carried the still whimpering Joey in her arms. As they descended the stairs, Becky said to Krystyn, "I trust you already have a mother lined up for him?"

Krystyn laughed merrily and asked rhetorically, "Do I look like the maternal type? Of course I do! A woman contracted for my 'baby adoption service' last week. Little Jimmy's behavior will become more infantile as he gets used to being a baby and I'll be able to release him into her care without fear of being discovered. They're a perfect match for each other! She'll make an exquisite mother for little Jimmy!"

Becky chuckled as they stepped off the last stair, replying, "I should have known you'd have lined up a 'paying client' first. You may not be the ideal of a mother, but you're a consummate businesswoman, Krystyn!"

Joey was quickly ensconced in the playpen to fend for himself while they discussed Krystyn's plans for Andrew. Little Joey listened in sorrow in the playpen. His adult mind hadn't totally left him; he knew the horrors that Krystyn planned to inflict on her new charge. After all, he had lived through the same treatment, albeit at the hands of someone who meant to punish him until she was she his mind had broken. At first he had resisted with all of his mental abilities, but after a series of thrice daily spankings and the most humiliating treatment his bitch of a wife could conjure up, he had given up. He had begun to act like an infant every minute of the day. That was the only thing which had saved the remnants of his adult mind. He could still understand most of what she said, although he seemed to have forgotten the meaning of some of the bigger words in the process. True, his reflexes and muscular skills were those of a nine-month-old infant, but that was a mere bagatelle compared to keeping his mind whole. The only thing that truly bothered him was that his mind seemed to be creeping into infancy when he least expected it. He had come to enjoy peeing and pooping in his diapers, but that was to be expected with an infant's body. He had accepted the fact that an infant's brain couldn't hold a thought very long and had gotten used to having his mind wander when he wanted to concentrate.

At first diaper changes had been a horrible embarrassment, but after a time, he had grown used to the experience and had even grown to enjoy his ex-wife's maternal ministrations. He had tried to maintain his ability to walk and had even been able to succeed in toddling to and fro in his thick diapers across his nursery for two weeks, but after a while the long hours he had spent in his playpen on his hands and knees had allowed the long muscles of his legs to weaken until they couldn't support him. He had found that the effort to walk had been too difficult and he had begun crawling on all fours instead. After six months of crawling, he had completely lost the ability to walk. It didn't matter to him anymore. Even a growing predilection for formula over baby food didn't bother him; he knew it was merely his body's way of saying it was satisfied with the nourishment it was getting.

What bothered him was that adult conversation seemed to hold less and less attraction for him. Immediately after the transformation, he had been unable to speak but had still been able to understand adult speech. Lately though, words seemed to be disappearing from his vocabulary. He was having increasing difficulty understanding what his mommy was saying. If Becky put a brightly colored ball in his playpen, it was minutes before he could pull his attention away from the gaily colored object and concentrate on the world outside the playpen. Thumbsucking had begun as an infantile reflex which his transformation had returned to him, but he wasn't prepared for the feelings of well-being and contentment that went along with sucking on his thumb that had recently become the focal point of his daily behavior.

Joey often found himself absent-mindedly sucking on the nearest available object without realizing he had put it in his mouth. Lately, he had discovered that he was fearful in the presence of strangers and begun clinging to Becky for protection. His adult mind knew she was the enemy, but his predominant Id was convinced that she was his mother and would protect him from harm. Joey realized immediately after his transformation that he was undergoing the same psychological transference of responsibility and relinquishment of autonomy that hostages who were affected by the Stockholm syndrome normally suffered but he had been powerless to stop the process. When a person became a hostage to terrorists, the terrorists became the surrogate parents of the hostage. Hostages invariably unconsciously associated their authoritarian keepers with the all-powerful parents of their infancy and began to identify with them. The fact that they were dependent on the terrorist for their food, water and right to go to the toilet only intensified the identification of the terrorist with parental figures in their subconscious minds.

In Joey's case, his ex-wife had become his mommy in an absolute sense. He was completely dependent on her for everything. All of his needs were satisfied by her. There was no defense against his subconscious mind's acceptance of her role, any more than there was a way for him to escape his fate. He had become her baby in fact. Whenever she entered the room, his face would light up and he would smile and jabber nonsensically in devotional greetings. His initial feelings of anger toward her had been slowly modified into infantile attachment and love for his mommy. As his world had imploded into the tiny universe of an infant and his attention span had eroded, he had lost interest in television and the external world. He had lost the ability to read along with his ability to speak on the first day when his brain reorganized itself into that of a nine-month-old, leaving a deficit in his life that only his mommy could fill. Soft plushy toys and pacifiers were only a temporary divertissement from his real interest. His attention had become completely focused on Becky and what she was doing. The fact that often he could no longer understand everything she was saying or doing made no difference at all in terms of his inner world. She had become his entire universe. Other women frightened him. All he wanted was to be cuddled and held by her.

Joey dimly remembered his sin against his former wife, but the wanton carnal behavior for which she had despised and punished him seemed like it had been done by another person. After the change, he couldn't imagine himself wasting his attentions on another woman when Becky was around. Nothing mattered but to be as close to her as possible and to have her touch and caress the skin of his hyper-sensitive infant body. Joey didn't even mind losing his balls that much; the over-large egg-shaped objects had merely led him astray from the woman he now knew he loved with all his heart and soul. Now that his testicles were only the size of small peas enclosed in a shriveled little bag of flesh that held them tightly against his body, they had no effect on his behavior. What had once been a man's scrotum was only a memory. His once proud penis was only a baby's pee-pee; it was barely three-quarters of an inch long and less than half an inch in diameter. He was indifferent to the loss of his manhood, sex was unimportant to him in his current state. Nonetheless, he still got pleasure from his little wee-wee several times a day as it directed the warm, comfortable wetness down into his crotch and around his diapered bottom to creep up the rear of his diaper.

Joey didn't regret the loss of having orgasms so much. Except for the single liaison which had caused Becky to rejuvenate him into helplessness, he had not been with a woman in over six months before the change. When he was still known as Joe, he had gotten used to masturbating when the urge was overwhelming. Although he could still masturbate in his diapers as a baby, the pleasure he was able to induce by manipulating himself wasn't the same since his body had changed. His sexual drive had disappeared and the pleasant sensations produced by his clumsy efforts through the diaper's thickness was a pale shadow of the ecstasy he had felt as a man. Besides, Becky would spank him every time she caught him with his hand in the front of his diaper. He could only masturbate freely if he awoke in the middle of the night when Becky was asleep and couldn't catch him. It wasn't such a great loss. The feeling of messing in his diapers was almost as good as masturbating and he could do it anytime he liked. No one told him he was naughty for making himself feel good that way. Mommy would only smile and tell him he was a good baby when she discovered that he had wet or dirtied himself. When she praised him for making a mess in his diaper, it made him feel so warm and cuddly inside that he often did it again on the spot to please her more.

Joey only wished he could understand everything his personal mother Goddess cooed down at him when she fed him his bottle or changed his diapers. The only time he was perfectly content was when she held him and fed him his bottle of formula before going to sleep each night. Being nestled in her big protective arms and resting his head against her bosom while he peacefully suckled the bottle dry had become the zenith of each day. When he finished his bottle each night, she gently winded him and he immediately fell asleep in her arms. Every day had become a repetition of the previous day, with no discontentment over the sameness of his life. As time passed, his attitudes had made much the same adjustments to infancy that his body had. At first he had been irritated, but after he had grown used to his environment, he had forgotten that he had ever suffered any discomfort over the change.

It was only went he saw someone like Andrew having his adult life stripped away from him that the true horror of what his ex-wife had done to him was recalled. It made him feel guilty about his diapers and the messes he made in them. Then he would remember that night with the teenaged girl next door and he'd begin crying in shame over what he had done and how his mommy had punished him for his philandering. He hadn't meant to go to bed with the nineteen-year-old girl, it had just been one of those things. Becky had been off to one of her all-night outings with her girlfriends, a Sabbat he believed she called it, and he had stopped in his favorite nudie bar on the way home for a few drinks. Once Becky had become the leader of her group, she had seemed to lose interest in sex with Joe (as he was called then). Joe had found a socially acceptable outlet for his sexual frustration by going out to stripper bars whenever he could. There were many single colleagues of his at work who frequented such establishments and he was easily able to find companions to accompany him to the nudie bars.

By the time he got home from the bar, he was a little "under the weather" and horny from watching the strippers at the bar. When the well-endowed teenaged neighbor (whose parents were out of town for the weekend) had come over to borrow a pack of matches for her cigarettes, he had lit her cigarette for her and had generously given her several packs of matches. She had sat down in the couch across from his chair to talk in a friendly fashion, granting Joe the first truly friendly social contact with a woman since Becky had started her women's group. He had been mesmerized by the sight of her erect nipples under her bra-less tank-top and hadn't considered what might happen if his wife came home. His sexual drive kicked in and he became so enthralled with the young woman in front of him that he forgot that he was married.

When she had mentioned that she was thirsty, he had made her a rum and coke without thinking about her age or the consequences. One drink led to another and before he knew it, he was in bed with a tipsy, sex-starved teenaged nymph. Becky had come home early and caught them in flagrante delecto. She had thrown the drunken girl out on her ear before laying into him verbally while he lay naked and half drunk in bed with a limp, dripping penis, mumbling incoherent apologies to her. When she saw that her words were having little effect on the alcohol sodden man who lay before her, she dealt with him with all the powers that her position as High Priestess of a Coven had bestowed upon her. Since he couldn't be trusted to act like a mature adult male, she decided that he should be regressed to the age which matched his actions.

Within minutes, his body had been transformed to match the infantile behavior he had exhibited. As far as she was concerned, he could stay that way. Since Becky had been a little girl, she had always wanted a baby of her own. Joe had made himself the perfect candidate for her maternal attentions by his marital infidelity. Since he had shown his willingness to make a teenaged girl pregnant, he had no moral grounds to object to giving Becky what she wanted. She rationalized to herself that it was his duty as her husband to make her pregnant and give her the baby she had always wanted. If he wouldn't provide her with a proper baby of her own, she thought to herself, then he would be her baby! Once she had changed Joe into a helpless infant, she left him where he lay helplessly on the bed and went to the garage.

Becky had been collecting discarded furniture and objects from the members of her group for over two months for a garage sale to raise money to buy ritual accoutrements for the Coven's meetings. Once Becky was in the garage, she started going through the baby furniture and clothing that had been donated by one of their newest members who had recently divorced her husband and had permanently sworn off sexual relations with men. Since the woman had moved into a small apartment, she could no longer keep the infant furnishings she no longer needed. The woman had been married in a southern state where there was no alimony and child support was shockingly low compared to the rest of the nation. She knew that the poverty caused by her divorce and subsequent bankruptcy would severely limit the kind of life she could provide for her child. Her ex-husband had immediately remarried his mistress and the woman had reluctantly decided to let her ex-husband raise her four-year-old son. Her ex-husband still had his job and the substantial income it provided. Her ex-husband's new wife had a well paying job of her own and her contribution raised the income of their new family to upper middle class levels. The tiny efficiency where the divorced woman lived had no room for the detrius of her former life; she gladly gave all the baby furnishings she had to Becky to raise money for the woman's group. She knew that they would sell quickly in a garage sale and would take the place of the membership dues that she had been allowed to forgo due to her dire financial straits.

Becky quickly discovered the plastic garbage bag she had been seeking; it was filled with plastic baby bottles, nipples and a complete set of clothing for an infant boy. In the bottom of the bag, she found the package she had been looking for; a half empty package of disposable diapers that had somehow survived the infancy of the woman's little boy. Becky took one of the diapers from the package and went back to the bedroom to find Joe still lying on the bed in utter confusion after his transformation. In a few moments, she had him diapered and left him again while she moved the baby furniture into the adjoining room that had once been Joe's Den. Within an hour, Joe found himself entrapped in the den that had once been his place of refuge from the world. His hideaway had become his nursery.

Becky renamed Joe as "Joey" to shame him and from then on, she constantly reminded him of his changed status in the family. She immediately wrote a check for three hundred dollars to the Coven's account for the furnishings in lieu of the money that the sale of the baby furniture would have brought. Becky had cleared accounts with everyone; both the Coven and her infant husband had gotten exactly what they merited or deserved. From that moment on, Becky would watch over her husband every minute to make sure he wouldn't get himself in trouble with her again. She would take care of the house, the bank accounts and all the adult responsibilities of their life together. In the proceeding weeks, his sports car was sold as was all his fishing tackle and guns. Becky refused to have a firearm in the same house with a baby. Besides, she had her spells to protect them, she didn't need anything as crass as a shotgun to reduce a threatening man to a quivering mass of bloody tissue. All Becky had to do was concentrate and weave her hands in a complex pattern while uttering a quiet incantation and the would-be rapist would find himself sitting on the floor amidst a pool of oversized clothing, peeing and pooping on his former attire while wondering where his peter and balls had gone.

Krystyn might require the use of a potion to effect her magick spells, but Becky was the High Priestess of one of the most powerful Covens in the United States and she had powers that were beyond the wildest imaginings of anti-occult writers.

Joe had made a serious mistake when he angered her. His actions had proven to Becky that he was too irresponsible to be allowed to have adult privileges and she had withdrawn them as easily as a mother takes an irritating rattle from a boisterous baby's hand. As far as Becky was concerned, he had acted like an immature infant and he would be treated accordingly from that day forward. She would pay the bills and see that everything was taken care of without his help. All he would have to do was lay back and enjoy the ride like the child he was. Joe's life as an adult was over. He had lived as an infant ever since.

Every time Joey saw another man reduced to the same state of infancy that had been inflicted on him, he cried as he remembered the life he once had and how he used to enjoy driving his sports car and going to nudie bars with his friends on their lunch hour. After an hour of weeping and whimpering, he usually forgot sight of the hapless soul that had been involuntarily rejuvenated and returned to his life of semi-conscious infantine bliss.

Krystyn woke Andrew two hours later with a bottle in her hand. She lifted him from the crib and carried him over to the rocking chair where she laid him in her lap. Then she draped a cloth diaper over her shoulder as a protection against him spitting up and picked up the bottle which she had wedged between the side rail of the rocking chair and her leg. Andrew shivered in fear as she drew him close to her and proceeded to shove the nipple in his mouth. He tried to fight her, but his weak baby muscles were unequal to the task and he found his mouth filled with the latex nipple of the nurser. "Drink up, Baby! Or Aunt Krystyn will spank!", she threatened.

Andrew pulled on the nipple in terror and was rewarded with a few drops of formula. "You'll have to do better than that if you expect to escape a spanking, Baby!", Krystyn said as he struggled to suck the formula from the bottle, "If you don't finish this bottle in the next ten minutes, Andy, Krystyn is going to blister your pink little bottom!"

Andrew barely finished the bottle in time, but at the expense of swallowing a great deal of air along with the formula. His cheeks took on a sickly green appearance as the huge bubble of air he had ingested pushed against the immature cardiac sphincter that kept the top of his stomach closed. Krystyn smiled as she looked down at her charge and realized what had happened. Little Andy needed to be winded before he spit up his formula. She picked him up by his armpits and laid him across her chest so that his head rested on the cloth diaper she had placed on her shoulder before she began the feeding. Then she began patting and rubbing his back gently to loosen the air bubble that was trapped in his stomach.

After a few gentle pats on the back, Andrew loosed an enormous eructation elucidated by her ministrations. The sound of his huge belch filled the room. He sighed automatically in relief from the remission of his discomfort, then suddenly realized the import of the process that had made him feel better. With a whimper of utter mortification, his face turned beet-red in embarrassment. He had been burped like an infant! Krystyn had held him to her bosom and winded him as if he was a baby. Andrew wanted to die from embarrassment. Not only had he been forced to nurse from a bottle like a little baby, but now he was contributing to the whole humiliating scenario by responding like one. He shuddered when he remembered that he had wet his diapers before he had been put down for his nap and realized that he hadn't pooped yet that day. If events continued as they had been going, it wouldn't be long before he started making messes in his diaper too!

The thought made him want to cry, but his adult intelligence held firm and the bottom of his chin merely quivered as he shuddered in revulsion. Krystyn felt the shaking of his tiny body and said, "Are you getting cold, Andy? It's warm in the house, but you've just woken up from being in your crib covered with your nice warm blankie. Maybe I should put you in a onsie for a little while until you warm up. Okay, Honey?"

Andrew shuddered again in response to the sense of loss of control of his life and body. Krystyn merely smiled and took his physical reaction to his helplessness as evidence that she had been right about his chill. She took him over to the dresser and laid him on the white plastic pad of the built-in changing station and fastened the safety strap tightly over his tummy while she bent down and went through the dresser drawers to find a onsie in his size.

Andrew tried to tell her he wasn't cold, but his efforts only produced the consonant-less, incoherent vocalizations of speechless infancy and made her smile as she continued to look for appropriate daywear for him. After a few moments of scrounging through the drawers, she found a white cotton onsie in his size and stood up to shake the wrinkles out of the fabric. Andrew relaxed for a moment when he saw that she had a tiny t-shirt in her hands. As a college student who had come from a family with a single child, he had had no contact with babies and had no idea of what they wore. As such, the long t-shirt with the roughly triangular flap in that graced the bottom of the front and back hem area to make it so long had no meaning to him. As far as he knew, it's name indicated that it was an odd style of t-shirt, but it was nothing to be concerned about.

Andrew's ignorance of a onsie made his dressing easy. He had no idea of what a onsie was and the white cotton garment looked as familiar as the undershirts in his dresser in his apartment. It wasn't until he saw that the t-shirt was longer than it should be and had a rounded triangular bottom that he suspected that something was amiss. She unbuckled the strap and sat him up on the plastic pad before she gathered up the material between her hands to pull the top over him. Krystyn eased his head through the wide neck opening and worked his hands through the short sleeves before she slid the soft fabric down over his chest and belly. When she reached his hips, she pushed him back to lay down on the pad again and lifted his legs so she could draw the onsie over his diapered bottom. Then she pulled the back of the onsie up between his legs and snapped it to the loose crotch panel to enclose his lower abdomen within the thin garment. Andrew shivered at each sharp click that proclaimed his loss of freedom as she snapped each of the three snaps in turn with their metallic mates on the back side of the light cotton garment.

Andrew kicked his legs in dismay at the feel of the unaccustomed garb. While the odd costume was comfortable and its short sleeves and legless design let him move his limbs freely, the feeling of being trapped in an infantile garment made Andrew feel exceedingly ill-eased. Andrew's feeling of consummate discomfiture was accentuated when she picked him up and patted his thickly diapered bottom patronizingly while holding him to her chest before turning to carry him out of the nursery.

Krystyn brought him down into the family room, pausing to turn on the TV as she set him down on the carpet before she sat herself down on the couch. Andrew crouched on all fours and looked around the room from his new perspective. From a eyeview that was barely twelve inches from the floor, the couch towered over him like a giant's sofa. Indeed, even Krystyn's shapely legs looked like those of a huge statue of a fertility Goddess that had somehow been made flesh. Even her shoes looked enormous to Andrew. He silently crept over to them and compared them to his tiny hands. Her shoes were three times the length from the heel of his palm to the tips of his fingers. Krystyn glanced down and smiled at Andrew's tentative explorations. She wanted him to see and experience his new size for himself before she took him back up to the nursery and fed him his first meal as a rejuvenated infant. It would give him something to think about over the next few days as he lay alone in his crib. His trip down to the family room was all part of the treatment. She did it to all her babies once they were alone with her.

Andrew wandered around the family room for a few minutes on his hands and knees and finally sat down on his diapered bottom to assess his situation. "Firstly," he thought, ticking off his troubles on the stubby fat little fingers of his left hand, "Krystyn has somehow turned my body into a baby. I can't talk or walk. Therefore, I can't tell anyone what she's done to me and get help or run away on my own. If I try to crawl out the door, she'll catch me before I get ten feet."

The TV distracted him with a loud commercial, causing him to look up at the screen. The name of the advertiser was prominently displayed on the TV, but the message was lost on him. He knew that the scrolling information must mean something, but the letters made sense in only a general way. It was as if the Latin block lettering had somehow been changed into Sanskrit or Egyptian Hieroglyphics. That the forms were some sort of alphabet was clear to him, but the letters themselves had no associations in his brain from which to form a conclusion. In a panic, the former English major realized that his transformation into babyhood had made him illiterate. He still knew in general what letters were, but he could not for the life of him remember what sounds they were supposed to represent. When he thought about it, he realized that he couldn't spell either. The only words he had left were auditory memories of people speaking. "Secondly," he thought in utter disgust, "I'm now an illiterate. I can't read, write or type out a plea for help."

Krystyn smiled at the baby who sat on the carpet at her feet apparently exploring the tips of his fat little fingers. Andrew was the best candidate for she had had for rejuvenation and adoption she had had in a long time. He seemed to be psychologically regressing to his physical age much faster than expected. If the stains on the back of his underwear was any clue, he should have no trouble adjusting to an incontinent lifestyle. Krystyn couldn't be sure, but the light yellow stains on the front of his undies implied that he dribbled urine in his pants from time-to-time before he had met her. This, in combination with the "accident" that he had had prior to his conversion to infancy made her think that it would be absurdly easy to destroy his potty training. Nevertheless, she decided to use her standard techniques for reducing an adult male mind to an infantile state. Krystyn was carefully methodical in her use of both magick and practical psychology. She had to make sure that her "babies" acted just as their adoptive mother's expected. If a single male escaped with his mind intact, she'd be financially ruined and her standing with the Coven would be destroyed.

Unlike Becky, she couldn't take the chance that her charge might be discovered by his foster mother as something other than a baby with genetic growth and mental retardation problems. Becky was content to let her husband suffer with a semi-adult mind and an infant's body. Krystyn had no choice; Andrew, like all her charges, had to be completely broken in spirit and mind before she handed him over to his adoptive mother. All it would take is one infant who had been insufficiently prepared for his adoptive mother and Krystyn's business would be in ruins.

As he sat there the front of his diaper became warm again, signaling that his small, inelastic infant bladder had reached its limit and the weak sphincter of his bladder had begun to give way under the pressure of the formula she had fed him earlier. All at once, his sphincter released completely, loosing an uncontrollable stream of pee from his penis. He looked up at Krystyn with dismay as he sat on the carpet and flooded the already damp padding of his diaper. He looked down to see if he was leaking, but all that was visible to him over his bulging tummy was the part of the onsie where the three snaps fastened the single piece outfit together over the thick padding of the nightime disposable. He leaned forward to begin creeping on his hands and knees and felt the urine sodden diaper shift position beneath the cotton fabric and begin to swing heavily between his legs with a warm, wet, soft, squishy feeling with every movement of his legs.

"Ugh," Andrew thought with an adult's conditioned response to wearing wet underwear, "I've got to get her to change me before I get some kind of diaper rash or something!"

He couched before Krystyn and tried to point to his crotch with one hand to indicate he was wet, but his muscles were unequal to the task of keeping him upright on only three limbs; he fell over and rolled on his side, forcing his legs together and squeezing the sopping diaper between them.

Krystyn looked down at his antics and smiled in mild triumph at the infant she had created from the sophomoric college student who had thought to bed her. Andrew rolled over on his belly and struggled to get on his hands and knees again at the feet of the woman who had become his caretaker.

"I've got to get her attention!", he thought to himself as he smiled at his enemy as charmingly as he could.

His virtually toothless mouth was wide open in the ingratiating uncontrolled grin of a baby who wanted to please his mommy in the hope that she would take pity on him and condescend to notice him. Unfortunately for his feeble ploy, his attempt to make himself endearing failed utterly as drool dripped off his chin onto the carpet. She waved at him playfully and went back to watching her program on TV. Andrew was getting desperate. When he saw the string of spit that was making a puddle on the carpet, he seriously considered crawling over to her feet and drooling on her shoes to get her attention. "Maybe that will make her pick me up. If she feels how soggy my diaper is, she'll probably fuss at me for a minute for wetting myself, then take me upstairs to change me immediately. Surely she wouldn't spank a little baby for drooling on her shoes," he thought as he began to slowly work his way over to her in the most nonchalant manner he could manage.

Halfway there, however, his scheme was disrupted by an unforeseen event. A strange, light, almost tickling feeling came from his behind. He stopped for a moment, wondering what had happened when the odd sensation returned. Andrew felt rather than heard a slight popping from his behind and crouched stock-still on the carpet as the weird feeling became stronger. There was a feeling of something coming out of his behind and then his abdominal muscles contracted fully to expel the contents of his rectum completely into his diaper. Andrew was stunned by the sensation. The hypersensitive nerve endings of his infant's body interpreted the sensations as incredibly pleasurable. Despite his adult revulsion to defecating in his pants, the feeling was simply too good to try to stop. Waves of pleasure rolled up his spine as he dumped a prodigious load into the back his diaper.

The transformation had regressed his body, but the inert substance of his feces hadn't been changed by the process. The human body is eighty percent water and his approximate ninety percent decrease in body mass meant that sixteen gallons of the excess water had to go somewhere. Almost one hundred percent of the sixteen gallons contained by his body had vaporized in the instant of transformation, leaving almost a cup and a half of water to be excreted. The majority of the excess water condensed in his intestinal tract and mixed with the feces present to produce a slurry of fecal matter at the top end of his large intestine where the remnants of his last meal was being stripped of its water before being excreted. The balance of the excess water had been dumped into his blood stream and had been extracted to be excreted into his diaper as urine. His steamed stools had run their course and had been enqueued to be naturally voided. The effect wasn't instantaneous, but it was all too predictable; Andrew had a massive case of semi-solid runs.

Within minutes, he dumped over a half a pound of semi-liquid waste into his diaper. In short, he thoroughly messed himself and filled his diaper to maximum capacity. Andrew moaned in a rapture of exhilarated ecstasy as each soft stool passed and dropped into the steadily filling diaper. At the same time that his bowels opened to excrete the watery, pudding-like waste, so did his bladder. He was struck by the excruciatingly pleasurably warm feeling as the stream of baby pee flowed from his tiny penis to soak his crotch, then run down to add itself to the wet mess forming between his legs. As he knelt on his hands and feet, he was enraptured by the unfamiliar but euphoric sensations his body was producing.

Between Andrew's legs, the nethermost part of his diaper drooped lower and lower under the increasing weight of poop and pee. The disposable diaper continued to expand as the absorbent gel sucked up the urine from his crotch and the water from the loose stools from his bottom and forced the plastic covering of his diaper balloon to downwards towards the carpet. When the flow from his body slowed, his diaper drooped almost three-quarters of the way to the floor. Despite himself, Andrew had been overcome by the experience; his eyes had closed and rolled up in their sockets while his thin arms and legs trembled as if he was about to have a massive orgasm.

Never in his adult memory had the simple act of voiding himself felt so good! Andrew was beyond panic or shame, all he wanted was continue until the demands of his infant body were satisfied. The experience was addicting; the rush he felt was like that first heady inhalation of simon-pure crack. Like any addict, the experience changed his psychology forever. He would never be what he was before. Even if he regained his adulthood, the ecstasy that he had felt would haunt him to the end of his days. His pleasure center had been excited into a state that was beyond his ability to understand or to cope. In one fell swoop, his psychology had regressed from the normal adult genital orientation for gratification to that of a baby's need for anal gratification. Andrew was unaware of the rapid re-wiring of the neural circuitry of his brain. His eyes continued to stay shut as he unconsciously drooled in ecstasy, wallowing in the pleasure of his first experience of the freedom of total incontinence since babyhood.

Krystyn saw the expression on his face and knew what was happening before the reek of his dirty diaper assaulted her sense of smell. Every time she changed a man, she would bring the resulting infant down to the family room after his nap and bottle and he would take a bodacious dump in his diaper. The look of rapture on Andy's face almost made her laugh. She kept quiet only long enough to let him wallow in his first experience of pooping in his diaper since he was a baby. Not that she planned to let him get off that easy. Once he was finished messing himself, she intended to point out in excruciating detail how much he reeked and take him to the nursery to remove his dirty diaper so she could bathe him.

She intended make him feel guilty about his helpless incontinence for same reason that doctors make their patients feel guilty about their illnesses, i.e., guilt makes the subject more amenable to control by an authority figure. Her plan called for him to regress both emotionally as well as physically. By the time she was finished with him, she intended that he would have willingly surrendered himself in body and soul to her will.

Krystyn had had enough personal experience with physicians to figure out that particular methodology of manipulation and utilized it herself to make her little charges surrender themselves totally to her will. She had other tricks she had developed to bend her charge's minds and she planned to utilize every one until there was nothing left of Andy but a pliant little infant. She had finished making Andrew's mobile and had hidden it under his crib before she woke him from his nap. She decided she would hang it over the end of his crib once she had bathed him and fed him his dinner. Then she would put him in his crib to lay on his back and digest his meal in solitude with only a personalized motorized mobile to distract him until he fell asleep. Whether he pooped in his diapers again before he went to sleep or while he slumbered was immaterial. Either way, when she changed his present diaper, it would be the last diaper change of the day. He would spend the night in a messy, wet diaper so he would learn to accept his role as a permanent baby. When she came into the nursery tomorrow, she expected to find a dirty, tearful baby with a VERY bad case of diaper rash.

Andrew sighed in relief as the last bit of poop slipped out of his behind and the abdominal contractions stopped. The reek of dirty diapers formed an almost palpable cloud around him. He knew that there was no way Krystyn could ignore what he had done. Strangely, he felt no guilt at that particular moment for what he had done. The adult part of his mind knew he should, but the infant part of his Id was still enjoying the remnants of the rapture he had felt when his bowels released and he had abandoned himself to the physical freedom of "doing what came naturally".

He realized that his control of his bladder and bowels had vanished along with his maturity and that all he could hope for was that Krystyn would take him to his nursery and clean his dirty bottom. He crept toward her slowly, feeling the heavy weight of his filthy diaper pull at his waist and thighs. As he moved, the pressure from the onsie compressed the diaper and forced the poop to work its greasy way around to his groin and cover his tiny testicles. Andrew's entire pubic area and bottom felt slick and slippery. He had to get her attention so she would release him from the muck which encased him! There was nothing left in his universe that was more important than getting his messy diaper changed. His pride had been annihilated by the experience of total incontinence.

Krystyn looked down at the pleading expression on his face and smiled. His onsie bulged prominently in the rear, indicating that he had well and truly filled his diaper. She knew that the poo had probably migrated to the front of his diaper, making him a filthy mess both fore and aft.

"Now's the time to strike," she thought as she verbally demanded in the most maternal, patronizing voice she knew, "Andy!! Have you been a naughty baby? Did you go poo-poo in your diapers? Aunt Krystyn saw the look on your face a minute ago! You looked like you were enjoying yourself! I was right to turn you into an infant! You really like making messes in your pants! I saw the 'skid marks' on your underwear when I picked them up. You never had any business wearing 'big boy' underwear, did you? You should have been in diapers all along! You don't need a girlfriend, you need a mommy! Well, that's water over the bridge now. You're back in your proper place, wearing the kind of clothes that are appropriate for your behavior. Maybe I should just let you stay in your dirty diapers since you seem to like wearing your poop against your little hiney!"

Andrew's face fell in dismay at her suggestion; he had to get out of his dirty diapers and into some clean underwear, even diapers, as soon as possible.

Krystyn sneered and said, "I'd let you stay in your filthy diapers all day, but I don't think I could put up with the stench! Do you realize how much you've made my nice clean room reek? I'm going to take you upstairs and change you, then let you stay in your nursery and stink it up instead! Coming downstairs is a privilege reserved for nice, sweet-smelling babies, not a nasty stinker like you. You don't deserve to be in polite company! Come on!"

Krystyn bent down and picked him up by his armpits, holding him out in front of her to emphasize to him just how disgusting he was. She carried him up the stairs that way and took him into the nursery's bathroom. She sat him up on the bathroom changing pad and yanked open the snaps on the crotch of his onsie with three loud popping noises. Then she bent him forward and tugged the onsie out from underneath his bottom and pulled it over his head. Seconds later, Andrew found himself lying on his back on the plastic changing pad having his diapers removed. When Krystyn pulled the front of his diaper down between his legs, the reek of the dirty diaper shocked him beyond belief.

The entire bathroom smelled like a badly managed sewerage pit in seconds. Krystyn opened the tub of baby wipes and began to scrape the worst of the muck from his wrinkled little scrotum while shaking her head in disgust at the mess he had made. "Just look at this mess! You're covered in poop! I can't change you when you're this filthy! I'm going to have to give you a bath just to get you clean enough to put you in a clean diaper! Baby wipes were never made for a messes like this!"

Krystyn turned on the tap on the baby bath and ran the warm water with the drain left open. Then she picked him up from behind by his armpits, leaving the soiled diaper where it lay on the changing pad. She stood him in the waist high tub mounted in the bathroom counter and reached for one of the washcloths on the shelf. Andrew saw himself in the mirror for the first time since his transformation. His mouth dropped open in shock at how he appeared. His entire pubic region and bottom were covered in sticky brown goo. He noticed that his penis and testicles were so small that the poop had almost completely camouflaged their presence. His mouth was almost toothless and he was dripping drool on his chest. His hair had thinned to baby fineness and lay limply on the side and top of his head. Andrew dropped his head to his chest with a demeanor of utter dejection.

Andrew had subconsciously maintained the body image that he had had when he watched his reflection as his razor cut the stubble from his white-foamed chin that morning and hadn't changed it since his metamorphosis. That image had been shattered with one look in the mirror in front of the baby bath. He would never be able to think of himself as a man again. He was only a filthy little baby who liked making messes in his diapers. Andrew wept silently, tears running down his face, as he considered his loss.

Krystyn smiled to herself as she took the sprayer and began hosing the poop from his bottom. From the tears on Andy's face, the mirror had its intended effect. She always made sure her charges faced the mirror when she washed their first big dump from their bodies. Once they saw themselves naked and covered in their own shit, they lost their will to resist and became extremely plaint. Krystyn could tell that she'd have no problems with Andy.

After she had washed most of the tacky goo from his behind, she took him firmly by the shoulder and turned him around to face her. She looked down at his pubes and shook her head as if she was severely disappointed in him. Andrew caught her look of disapproval and tears flooded his eyes again to run down his cheeks. He had never felt so humiliated in his life.

She cleaned his loins efficiently with the hand piece of the bath's sprayer and soon had him free of the smelly gunk. Then she closed the drain in the baby tub and forced him to sit down as the warm water began to fill the small tub. Krystyn took a bar of Johnson's Baby soap and began to lather the washcloth while Andrew wept silently. Then she bathed every inch of his body, taking care to wash his ears and between his toes and fingers. When she was done soaping him down, she used the hose to rinse him off and opened the drain. She reached up to the shelf and took down the infant-sized manicure set and cleaned his nails thoroughly before giving him a manicure and pedicure. Krystyn put the set away and took a pair of blunt-pointed scissors and a small hair brush from the shelf. To Andrew's utter amazement, she began to give him a haircut right there in the tub. In a few minutes, she had shortened his hair considerably, making him even more infantile than he had before. Then she rinsed the hair and nail clippings down the drain with the hose and took down the bottle of combination baby shampoo and detangler as well as the bottle of baby conditioner. It only took a few minutes to lather his hair and shampoo it thoroughly, then apply the conditioner.

Krystyn rinsed him off once more and pulled him to his feet, turning him around in the process. Andrew looked in the mirror and saw the eight-month-old baby he had become. Krystyn reached up and took a towel from the shelf to dried him completely. Then she lifted him out of the tub and slung him on her hip with one of his legs in front of her and one behind. She took him back over to the changing station and folded the dirty diaper into a neat bundle with one hand to put it in the dirty diaper pail. Krystyn reached down and snapped open the lock on the rose-tinted lid, put the diaper in the top of the unit and turned the twistable rim to seal up the disposable diaper in a plastic sausage-like casing that played out from underneath the upper portion of the unit. Once the lid was closed, the individual bundle was pushed through the top to join the other diapers that had coiled themselves inside the storage area of the bottom of the pail like a long string of thick old fashioned hot dogs. Each disposable diaper was safely contained in it's own section of the long plastic tube to minimize the rank smell of soiled diapers. When it came time to dispose of the contents of the container's storage area, the whole string could be removed and dumped in the garbage.

After Krystyn disposed of his diaper in the odor-free container, she straightened up and laid him on his stomach on the pad. He jerked in surprise when he felt her apply the cool baby oil to his skin and rub it into his back and bottom. Then she turned him over and repeated the process on his legs and arms. The smell of the baby oil was intoxicating after suffering through the stench of his diaper. She worked the oil into every fold and crevasse of his skin, including his toes and fingers before she gave a light dusting of baby powder to his whole body.

Krystyn fastened the safety strap attached to the changing station around his belly for safety's sake and left him naked on the pad of the changing station while she worked for a few minutes in the kitchenette. She took one of the pots from the small cupboard underneath the two burner stovetop and filled it from the tiny bar-style sink of the kitchenette. Krystyn set the pot on the stove and turned on the burner to heat the water while she took a bottle of formula from the tiny refrigerator and set it in the pot to warm. Then she returned to the changing station and went through the shelves of open packages of Pampers disposables to select an overnight diaper of the proper size. She spread the folded diaper open with both hands, making soft popping sounds as the light adhesive gave way under her adult strength. Then she grasped his ankles in one hand and lifted his legs to slide the thickly padded diaper beneath his bottom with her free hand. Andrew lay back passively as she pulled the diaper up and taped the diaper down firmly on both sides.

Krystyn picked him up and held him close to her bosom as walked over to the kitchenette area and turned off the burner, then she carried him to the high chair in the corner of the room. She slid the tray off the high chair with one hand while she held him to her with the other. Then she sat him in the chair and brought up the safety strap up between his legs to buckled it around his waist. Once he was securely strapped in the chair, she remounted the feeding tray and locked it in place. Krystyn patted him on the head condescendingly and said, "Be a good baby while Aunt Krystyn makes din-din for you." Then she turned on her heels and went back into the bathroom/kitchenette.

Andrew squirmed a bit in the heavily padded seat of the high chair, but his efforts were wasted. The combination of the thick padding underneath the bottom of his diaper, the safety strap around his waist and tray completely immobilized him. Whenever he moved his legs, his groin made a loud crinkling caused by the plastic covering of the Pampers he was wearing. He couldn't even bring his legs together to sit properly; the thick front padding of the overnight diaper firmly but softly resisted his restive efforts to straighten his legs and bring his knees together. Unbeknownst to Andrew, the problem with his legs wasn't merely his diaper; the change in his anatomy caused by his transformation had caused his femurs to rotate outwards in their sockets like a normal infant's legs. Even if he had been naked and sitting on the floor, the task would have been physically impossible for him.

Everything that touched him seemed to be forcing him into an irritating state of comfortable helplessness. He pushed tentatively on the tray of the chair to force his way out but his weak muscles had no effect on the securely locked tray. He felt like he had been trapped in a world where his every need would be tended to, but was slowly smothering any of his attempts to be independent. The bath she had given him had made him feel squeaky clean. The sweet perfume of the baby oil and powder she had massaged into his skin gave him the overpowering feeling that he had been reborn by baptism into a state of purity and innocence. He felt like he had been baptized into a second babyhood and anointed with the oil of infancy. He sighed in defeat and looked around at the high chair. The heavy oak of the high chair matched the rest of the furniture in the nursery exactly and the padding tied to the back and side rungs of the chair had the same hue as the dark curtains. Somehow she had managed to find a protective plastic mat for the floor that matched the curtains as well. The mat was designed to catch drips and spills from messy eaters and extended a full two feet out from the sides and front of the high chair. A few feet away from the high chair was an adult chair sitting next to the wall. Andrew imagined that Krystyn used it to sit on while she fed her charges.

When she returned, she had a jar and spoon in one hand and a bit of terrycloth in the other. She set the jar and spoon on the adult chair, then came over and tied the terrycloth around his neck. When Andrew looked down and saw the unadorned white terrycloth fabric beneath his chin, he recognized what it was; she had put an infant's feeding bib on him!

Krystyn took the jar and spoon in hand again and moved the adult chair in front of the high chair with her other hand. Then she opened the jar and ladled out a spoonful to feed Andrew. "Open wide, Baby!", she commanded as the spoonful of green paste neared his mouth. Andrew opened his mouth and she dumped the contents of the spoon inside. "Yuck! What is that stuff?", Andrew thought to himself as he grimaced while struggling to swallow the finely puréed baby food.

"Doesn't little Andy like peas? Maybe you'd like strained carrots instead? That's what you'll be having tomorrow night for your din-din! For now, Baby, eat your puréed peas or Aunt Krystyn will give you a spanking!", she said with a malicious smile.

Andrew ate the putrefied-looking green gunk with reluctance as she forced spoonful after spoonful into his mouth and watched him swallow. She hurried him by pushing the pea-purée laden spoon between his lips before he had finished the last, causing him to lose control of his mouth's contents and let it fall down his chest. Fortunately, the terrycloth bib caught most of it and he managed to swallow most of it. After about half a jar, his stomach revolted and tried to spit it back up, but Krystyn caught the regurgitated baby food on the edge of the jar and spooned it back into his mouth. That was the most disgusting part of the meal. By the time she was finished, he was willing to drink anything to get the stomach-acid flavored peas out of his mouth.

Krystyn wiped his green smeared face with his bib and reached into her back pocket for his drink. She had a baby bottle filled with warm soy-based formula laced with a quintuple dose of Colace all ready for ad gotten in anticipation of owning a car, a twenty dollar bill he carried in his wallet for emergencies and most damningly, the dirty underwear he had been wearing that morning. His urine sodden briefs hung in the middle of the mobile with the brown stains on the back prominently displayed as they rotated in the air above him. The yellow stains that had become permanent on the brief's fly came into view every thirty seconds. He whimpered when he saw the evidence that Krystyn had been right about him needing diapers. He wanted to pull the soiled wet garment down and hide it from sight. Andrew reached up instinctively to take his property back before he realized that the position of the mobile made it impossibly high for him to touch. Krystyn had only put it there to remind him that adulthood and continence was permanently beyond his reach. He would be trapped in an infant's body forever.

He kicked his feet in frustration and wept until the Benadryl took full effect, drugging him into slumber amid the soft notes of the unceasing lullabies of the nursery's speakers. The last thing he remembered as his eyes closed was a warm feeling between his legs as he peed from the pressure caused by a stomach full of baby food and warm formula. When, during the night, the Colace combined with the puréed peas and caused him to empty his bowels into his diaper, he didn't stir. By the time the megadose of Colace had flushed from his system, Krystyn knew that the effects of his diet and his deteriorating mental condition would make his bowel movements immediate and involuntary. Andrew would never be toilet trained again. She had also ground up a twenty milligram tablet of Demadex and added it to his formula; by the morning his diaper would be soaked, whether he willed it or no. The powerful diuretic would cause him to pee all night long, forcing his infant's bladder to void itself whenever it filled. Twenty milligrams was half of an adult dose; he'd be soaking wet and dehydrated in the morning. She knew that he'd accept his bottle of juice and suckle it the moment she gave it to him the next day. He wouldn't be able to help himself; his own bodily needs would betray him.

Andrew awoke in the morning with a foggy, drug-clouded head and a cold soggy diaper. He was horribly thirsty. His blankie had been thrown to the side as he thrashed in his sleep and the teddy bear that Krystyn had tucked in at his side was lying against the rails of the crib. Andrew's crotch and anus itched horribly and every time he moved; the pain from his irritated skin was unbearable. Andrew could smell the sharp reek of ammonia from the spoiled pee being exuded from his diaper. He needed to be changed as quickly as he could call for help. He wasn't terribly pleased to have to ask for help from the woman who had turned him into an infant and incarcerated him in his nursery/prison, but he had no choice. His painful diaper rash made proper care an immediate necessity and he couldn't be choosy about who he asked to change his diaper. Forgetting that he could no longer speak, he called out to Krystyn. All that emerged from his mouth was an incoherent scream for help. Andrew called again, with the same results. When he realized that he was unable to call for help, he began to cry in frustration. As his anger with his helpless state increased, so did the volume of his wails. Within ten minutes, Andrew was howling at the top of his lungs like an infuriated infant.

Krystyn opened the sound deadening door to find a screaming red-faced infant wailing angrily in his crib. The sound-proofing of the room had not been able to keep his loud caterwauls from traveling through the tiny space beneath the bottom of the door and the floor and be heard by her in her bedroom. When he saw her grinning over the railing of the crib, his wails died down to self-pitying snivels. Krystyn dropped the crib side to the floor and leaned over to hoist him out. She quickly carried him to the dresser and stripped the soaked, messy diaper from his bottom. Andrew was surprised at the reek of the diaper when she unfastened the tapes; the smell of ammonia was overpowering! "Ohhh, poor baby! Just look at sweetums little crotch! Hims got terrible diaper rash all over! Don't worry, Honey. Aunt Krystyn has a special cream to make you feel better!"

Andrew whimpered in an agony of physical pain and humiliation over the way she was treating him. She sounded just like she was talking to an infant. "Surely she must know I can still think," he thought as she carefully wiped his pubes and bottom, then began applying diaper cream to his irritated skin.

His skin had popped up in hot-red papules of irritation which itched and burned whenever they were touched. At first the application of the cream was pure agony, but after a minute or two the medication began taking effect and the swelling started to go down. Andrew sighed in blessed relief from the intolerable itching from the skin his swollen crotch dissipated.

When she had completed covering the affected area with the medicament, Krystyn went into the kitchenette/bathroom to prepare a bottle of apple juice for him. She came back in the nursery and leaned over the side of the rail to hand him his bottle. Despite the humiliation at having to drink from a baby bottle, Andrew's thirst made him grab the bottle eagerly and begin sucking for all he was worth. Krystyn nodded in satisfaction and left him to his own devices for an hour.

When Krystyn returned, she turned him on his back and put three fingers down inside the front of his diaper to feel if he was wet. About an inch down, her fingers encountered dampness. As expected, the combination of the apple juice and diuretic had made him wet his diaper again. She smiled as she remembered the side effect of too much fructose on infants; apple juice very commonly cause diarrhea. Andrew was going to have an interesting morning. Before she changed him, she went into the kitchenette/bathroom to put a bottle of formula in a pan of water on the stovetop to warm as she had the night before, then returned to change him. Ominously, she selected one of the Pampers overnight diapers rather than a daytime diaper for him to wear. When she finished diapering him, she carried him over to the high chair and strapped him in the chair the way she had the night before. Before long, she was spoon feeding him a breakfast of finely-ground rice cereal followed by a heated bottle of formula. His eyes were drooping by the time he had half-finished the bottle and he fell asleep twice before he finished it. The rice cereal would keep his stools from becoming too watery and give them enough bulk to pass easily. Krystyn winded and wiped his face with a warm wash cloth, then removed his feeding bib. He nodded off again as she unbuckled him from the high chair and was in a deep sleep when she put him in his crib again and quietly raised the side.

Andrew awoke again at lunchtime and his experience at breakfast was repeated: She changed him, fed him some baby food, then gave him his bottle before he fell asleep again. His diaper rash had not gotten any worse since breakfast, but it had not gotten any better despite the anti-rash cream she applied to his crotch and bottom with each diaper change. When he awoke again at dinnertime, Krystyn's performance of the day before was repeated. This time however, he pooped uncontrollably as he sat in the high chair and was fed his evening meal. His stools were so soft that he had no control of their passing no matter how hard he tried to clench his tiny anus. After he was forced to endure the humiliation of suckling his formula from a baby bottle while sitting in wet and dirty diapers, Krystyn took him to the nursery, changed him, and put down for the night.

The next day followed the same pattern as did the day after. Andrew had little time to think about his new life as most of his waking moments seemed to be filled with being fed or changed. Every other minute of the day he seemed to sleep in a deep dreamless slumber. The only thing that surprised Andrew was that he awoke with his thumb in his mouth on the second day. Apparently, he had subconsciously begun to suck his thumb in his sleep. He withdrew it quickly in embarrassment, least Krystyn see him suck on his thumb like an infant.

On the third day, he awoke with his thumb in his mouth. Instead of removing it in embarrassment as he had the day before, he left it as it was to enjoy the soothing, secure feeling it gave him. All that morning he intermittently sucked his thumb as he layed in his crib without caring whether Krystyn saw him or not. He noticed that hunger made him need the solace of his thumb as he began instinctively sucking it while he waited for his breakfast and lunch. After dinner, Kyrstyn bathed him again, but this time she didn't permit him to stand in the tub while she washed him down with the sprayer. From Andrew's viewpoint, it was just as well that she didn't. His legs had started feeling weak on the second day and by the third he was having difficulty standing. He had gotten used to the sensation of having his bottom cleaned and diapered by a woman whom he had wanted to bed only three days earlier.

On day four, he awoke with his thumb in his mouth and discovered that she had decided to change his routine. The nursery had become a familiar place to him and his schedule had seemed to be set in stone. Instead of changing and feeding him, however, she merely changed him out of his dirty overnight diaper and rediapered him in a thinner daytime diaper before putting him back in his crib and giving him a baby bottle full of apple juice. For some reason, the change in diet left him feeling awake and alert and he only napped for an hour when she returned an hour and a half later to feed him his breakfast. Time passed slowly for Andrew in the crib while he waited for her return.

When Krystyn finally arrived, she took him out of his crib and changed his soggy diaper again. Then she fed him a meal of jarred oatmeal with applesauce and formula before putting him in his playpen. This was a new experience for Andrew and he looked around to see what she had left him with before discovering that the baby toys that populated the playpen left much to be desired. There was a teddy bear of course, and a triple-columned, ring-stacking toy that seemed to be de rigueur in every nursery he had ever seen. Aside from a set of soft sculptured Alphabet blocks, there was nothing else to hold his interest except the orthodontic pacifier she had left lying in the center of the playpen. At first the pacifier held his interest for an abnormally long time. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the thing. But after awhile, it seemed to be part of his surroundings and he lost interest in it. "What does she expect me to do?", Andrew asked himself as he sucked on his thumb absentmindedly, "Does she really think I'm going to suck on that thing?"

He moped around the playpen trying to amuse himself with the toys that had been left in his infantine prison. It was no use; he couldn't really bring his adult mind to enjoy the simple bright colored toys that had been left to divert him. Being a baby again was the most boring experience of his life. After half an hour of piddling around with the toys dilatorily, he wished that something would happen to break the monotony. Of course, wishes and infant's physiological processes being what they are, he got his wish for diversion after a fashion. When his newly acquired involuntary reflex to evacuate his bladder and bowels after breakfast struck him, he peed and pooped in his diaper helplessly while sitting in the playpen. He sat for a long time wondering what to do. Then, as the pee in his diaper began to get cold and his messy bottom began to itch, he began to whimper while he sucked his thumb.

After a half-hour, the itching turned into a burning sensation and he began to weep. After a few minutes, he lost all self-control and began to wail like an infant over his increasing discomfort. His sobs when unheeded as Krystyn watched TV downstairs. She had turned on the CRT of the infant monitoring system and could observe the nursery through the CCD cameras implanted in the bellies of the three teddy bears, switching through the three different views provided by the teddys. She knew from seeing Andy flail his arms and drum his heels on the floor of the playpen with an open mouth and tears rolling down his face that he was having an infantile fit of fury indicating that he was in severe distress but she ignored him. She expected him to have wet and dirty diapers by then. She had muted the sound from the microphones in the teddy bears so she could continue to watch her talk program on TV. She didn't really need to hear him howl to know that he was upset. The expression on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Krystyn chuckled to herself when she glanced over from her program on TV to the nursery monitor and saw the look of pain on his face. "His diaper rash must have returned with a vengeance," she thought to herself, "Too bad! I'm not scheduled to go up there until noon to give him lunch. It looks like my little baby will have to suffer another hour and fifteen minutes."

Finally, Andrew's sobs quieted down to broken whimpers as he leaned forward and rested his head on the plastic mat while he remained kneeling. The plastic felt hot against his wet face, but he no longer cared. His tantrum had exhausted him. His thumb crept up to his mouth and while his other arm drew the teddy bear close to him for comfort. In a few minutes, he fell into a fitful sleep with his diapered bottom high in the air while the rest of his body knelt on the floor of the playpen. During a commercial, Krystyn saw his position in the playpen and giggled to herself at the sight of the sweet baby who was napping with his thumb in his mouth while cuddling his teddy.

"He's almost ready for the next stage of his training," Krystyn thought to herself with a smile of pleasure with Andrew's progress (Or more properly his regression, she thought to herself with a grin!), "Now that his subconscious understands that he needs a mommy to take care of him, I can let him come down and stay with me for a little while before he takes his afternoon nap. If he's good, I think I'll let him play in the playpen down here for a while this evening too. If that works out, he can stay down here with me after his meals to play tomorrow. Thursday night there's that Coven business meeting I don't want to miss so I'll have to get a babysitter for him. I'll call Amber tonight and see if she's available."

Krystyn chuckled as she remember the last few times she hired the High School student to look over her charges. Even though Amber didn't know that Krystyn's charges were regressed men, her babysitting habits dovetailed nicely with Krystyn's re-training program. Amber had a rather "unique" way of putting baby boys in their places which would prepare Andrew psychologically for the next steps in his re-training to babyhood.

Krystyn made a mental note to herself that she needed to talk to Georgia, who ran the Daycare she used once her little charges had adapted enough to their new lives to be presentable to the public. Georgia went to every Coven meeting religiously so she could talk to her about a short term enrollment for her new charge when they had a break. At the same time, she could talk to Shirley (who worked in the County's Vital Statistics Department) to have the death certificate of a newborn child who had died eight months ago removed from the records. With a few more fiddles of the files by her tame clerk, the child who had died would appear to have been placed under private adoption by the birth parents with a court seal on the records. If the files were ever investigated by an assiduous investigator, they would discover that the child had been put up for adoption because of a birth defect that prevented him from growing and maturing and that the parents were NEVER to be contacted about the adopted child under any circumstances.

Shirley was good at her job and was unfortunately poorly paid by the government entity for which she worked. Krystyn did not have any such restrictions on the pay she could offer her part-time employees. She only needed her "special" projects done quickly and so perfectly that no one would ever know that the files had been diddled. Shirley was paid well and in cash the minute the baby changed hands into the adoptive mother's care. Shirley made sure the private adoption went smoothly and that there were no problems with the records. As a member of the Coven, she had no doubt at all that Shirley would do her utmost to see that the job was done right and would keep mum about the changes she had made. After all, if the Coven caught her going to the police to tell them what she had done, she would face criminal charges for manipulating county records. She might get off easy from the court, but the penalties of the Coven could be quite severe. Krystyn could easily imagine finding oneself leading the interesting life as a breeding bitch in a poorly-run poodle farm for the rest of one's days. For the lesbians and bisexual women of the Dianic Coven which they were members of, the fate of being fucked doggie-style on a daily basis and then being forced to breed a litter of puppies twice a year for four or five years would be a living hell. The Coven's secrets were not to be divulged to anyone, especially government authorities.

When Krystyn awoke Andy to change him, he fairly cooed in delight. He was a bit fussy when she touched the raw skin of his bottom and crotch, but other than that, he behaved himself nicely. Krystyn was pleased with the results of his conditioning.

The hypnotic tapes she had custom-made by one of the Adult Baby suppliers on the Internet had formed the basis of the subliminal CD she had created by one of the Coven members who was technologically inclined. Whether Andrew was awake or slept, he was constantly bombarded with commands from a soft feminine voice telling him he was an infant and how much he enjoyed sucking his thumb, making messes in his diapers and nursing on baby bottles. Of course, those weren't the only messages on the CD.

Recently, she had gotten a new creation called a "Magic Tape" from a company named DPF that made the listener's mind regress temporarily into infancy. Krystyn had had the built-in safe guards removed from the program so that the listener did not have the option to return to an adult state in an emergency. Instead, she combined the tapes with commands of her own that convinced the listener that he could only be happy if a woman, preferably his mommy, was nearby to take care of him. The resultant message convinced her charges not only that they were real infants who enjoyed every aspect of a baby's existence, but it also made them emotionally dependent on women. Three weeks of listening to the CD that Krystyn had caused to be created would make a grown man wet himself and babble like an infant as he crawled on the floor without the necessity of being rejuvenated.

Since her charges occupied infant bodies, the effect of the subliminal programming was total. She didn't have to break their toilet training with the programming because their little body's loose sphincters did it for her. What she took from them was their desire to use the toilet rather than take a nice, relaxing dump in their diapers. When her charges' tastes in food and drink changed as a result of their transformation into babyhood, they gradually forgot their adult appetites for food and beverages so that they ultimately preferred baby food and formula over more adult fare. Within three weeks her charges became convinced that they really were infants and they behaved accordingly.

In Andrew's case, he appeared to be responding perfectly to the initial stage of his re-programming. The message had wormed it's way into his mind and had awaked his subconscious desires to be an infant again. Soon his body image would adjust itself as his mind regressed into dependent, contented infancy. None of her charges ever realized that the soothing omnipresent lullabies from the Disney CD covered the more sinister message buried in the composite signal that fed from the dual CD players and mixer that were grouped together under the nursery monitor in the family room. It had been expensive to wire the house with cables and amplifiers so she could watch and listen to the nursery's occupant from almost every room in the house but Krystyn had paid the extravagant cost gladly to ensure absolute security of her demesne. Krystyn had monitors in the living room, family room, kitchen and her bedroom. Even though the nursery door was soundproofed, she could hear every noise in the nursery if she so desired with a mere press of a button on the monitor's remote control.

Krystyn bent down to Andrew, taking a pacifier out of her pocket and placing it in his mouth. Instead of spitting it out as he might have attempted a few days earlier, he immediately began sucking on the latex nipple. Andrew looked up at her in confusion at the delightful sensations that the nipple made on the roof of his mouth as his cheeks and tongue rhythmically pulled it in as far as it would go and pressed it against his hard pallet. He knew intellectually that sucking on a pacifier was wrong at his age, but the pleasant sensations overcame his feeble adult beliefs about appropriate behavior. "What's happening to me? I'm enjoying this!", Andrew thought as a feeling of panic at the loss of his adult attitudes made his stomach feel as if it was an elevator whose cables had snapped under the load.

The panic made his weak bowels and bladder evacuate themselves automatically, messing the clean diaper that she had just put on him minutes before. Andrew felt the comfortable warm rush of pee as it ran up the front of his diaper and over his crotch before dripping down to soak the padding beneath his tiny balls. Simultaneously, he felt a small amount of poop slither from his behind with a pronounced tingly feeling of well-being. For a moment, his panic was forgotten as Andrew closed his eyes involuntarily in pleasure while his senses were assaulted by the gratifying sensations coming from both his mouth and his warm, wet, pooping bottom. He pulled the pacifier deeper into his mouth and sucked in an orgasm of overwhelming pleasure.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open with an expression of absolute horror as he realized that he had just messed himself with Krystyn standing over him. The panic was immediately replaced by an intense feeling of shame and embarrassment. His mind reeled, seeking escape from a situation that was beyond his worst nightmare.

Krystyn smiled warmly at him and patted his head patronizingly, saying, "Oh Dear! It looks like little Andy is going to need changing again, isn't he? He closed his eyes again, unwilling to look up into the face above him that burned with triumph. Despair filled him as his mind retreated to its darkest cave. Somewhere in the distance, Andrew could hear a baby bawling. The rational part of his mind analyzed the sound and decided that the baby was frightened and angry. He felt himself being picked up and carried up the stairs. Strangely, the baby's bawls followed him as they left the room and climbed the stairs. Andrew's felt a wave of sympathetic pity for the baby who was crying its heart out. The baby's angry bawls had changed into a pitiful helpless wail that tugged at Andrew's heart strings. He wished that someone would help the little baby who was crying so desperately for attention to his needs. Andrew felt Krystyn pat him on his back comfortingly, saying, "There, there, little one! There's no reason to cry. Aunt Krystyn will get you changed into some nice clean diapers."

Andrew opened his eyes in shock and realized that he had been the source of the noise of the crying infant that had been following them. He gasped to catch his breath and then began wailing again, this time in hopeless acknowledgement that he had returned to babyhood. She carried him up to the nursery and began changing his diaper as Andrew wailed helplessly. He couldn't control his emotions; the anger and frustration fed on itself and fueled the fire of infantile fury that blazed within him without let. He screamed in impotent rage as she lifted his legs and exposed the soupy pudding like mass that had escaped his control. As she wiped his dirty bottom, the remnants of Andrew's adult mind huddled in the darkest corner of his brain that it could find, gibbering in terror at the strength of the childish emotions that had been unleashed by his subliminal re-conditioning. His body kicked his legs and flailed his arms during the diaper change until its weak baby muscles were completely exhausted. By the time she was finished, Andrew's lungs gasped for air between livid whimpers of discontent.

Krystyn waited for him to catch his breath, then popped a pacifier between his lips to mollify him. As Andrew's mind inched itself deeper into the small area of his brain which it had taken refuge in, it began walling off the dendrites from the nearest neurons. Andrew's world became dark as his mind shut down the sensory/emotional inputs that threatened to overwhelm his psychic integrity. Within minutes, his mind had created a defensive shell around itself that precluded anything but a frontal assault. On this front, it deployed its strongest parts as guardians to the essence of Andrew's psyche.

Thus defended, Andrew watched the world through the last neural link it had left open and waited for the opportunity to regain control. Andrew's sensory link was surprisingly good considering the few neurons that formed his information pipeline; his visual information had been slightly degraded by the change in the shape of his eyeballs, giving him the normal nearsidedness of infancy. His auditory input wasn't as acute as he would have desired, originally his rejuvenation had made the perceptions by his cochlea incredibly sensitive and had increased both his auditory acuity and discrimination. The same condition prevailed for his sense of touch and smell. Still, he had sensory input and for that he was thankful.

Andrew had read of people subjected to long-term sensory deprivation in special sound-proofed, salt-water filled tanks of psychological laboratories or confined in the soundless cells of infamous Seclusion wing of the inhumanly cruel jungle prison that the French government had maintained at Devil's Island off the coast of French Guiana to isolate and break the will of its political enemies. When a prisoner committed an infraction of the rules, or if the guards simply didn't like him, he was sent to Seclusion for a period of time. There the prisoners were systematically starved to destroy their ability to resist as well as being subjected to enforced idleness in almost total darkness and a dead quietude. Time passed in Seclusion without measure by the prisoners as they waited for either food, death or release. Their minds became adrift in damp, torrid cells that never cooled in the equatorial heat of the tropical climate. Their non-existence was punctuated only by the occasional lunatic ravings of a prisoner who broke under the strain and began screaming into the silent darkness of his cell. In a few minutes, the entire cell block would listen to the agonized screams of the prisoner as he was brutalized back into terrorized silence by a maiming beating with the nightsticks of the sadistic guards. If the prisoner managed to maintain a shred of internal integrity, the guards would invite the homosexual trustees into the prisoner's cell to annihilate his ego with repeated rape. No one emerged from Seclusion unchanged.

The consummate evil that French government had done to punish its enemies was later reproduced by the psychological community when they invented a technique in the name of science that would totally isolate their test subjects from the outside world. The psychologists (many of them under government contract it has to be admitted) devised a means to separate a human from sensory influences. They built heavily insulated, sound-proofed, salt-water filled, light-tight tanks and let their subjects float aimlessly on water that was held at the precise temperature of a human body with neither sound nor light to stimulate the nerves. It wasn't brutal, but it was extremely effective. Under either circumstance, the long term results of sensory deprivation were the same. An ego without a sensory input to the world becomes disoriented and drifts without the anchor of social intercourse. The individuals who were subjected to long term deprivation of their sensorium, whether they were test subjects or prisoners, descended into a passive insanity from which there was no escape.

While he lacked any control whatsoever over his body, his last remaining sensory inputs meant he could at least be a passive observer. The adult minds of Krystyn's former charges that had tried the same tactic in the past had walled themselves off completely or left themselves with too few sensory inputs. Those who had made that fatal error had deteriorated into infancy within days at most. As for the minds who had found a means to resist, their adult psyche's had deteriorated into fully encysted madness or had degenerated into an infantile state and their patterns had been absorbed by the surrounding tissues. Andrew's young agile mind had instinctively chosen the middle course and had thus escaped the fate that had had taken all of her other victims. His mind had reacted instinctively to the assault and had beat a strategic retreat before his mind was completely overrun. The normal memory/self-identity processes that were used by the mind to update it's world view had been highjacked by the transformation and had allowed it to rewrite the associational network that defined a brain's function.. Andrew's personality had recognized the danger and had reacted immediately. It had met the enemy and had discovered it was a younger version of himself. It moved quickly, recreating the holographicaly-based associational network in a relatively unused portion of his brain.

His limbic brain and physical body had become the enemy. All his subconscious wanted was to be cuddled and taken care of as it had been when he was eight months old. His mind had been denied its home as his cortical complex had been taken over by a much younger self. For the first time, one of Krystyn's victims had defeated her subliminal programming and managed to survive relatively intact, albeit imprisoned in a walled-off neural fortress of its own making. Andrew isolated his section of the brain by creating a "dead" zone around the tissue he occupied, severing all dendrite connections except his sensory input nerves. In effect, he had created a three-dimensional "moat" of neurological nothingness around the tightly bound walls of his castle. Of course, the blood and lymphatic vessels were left as they were. If he had had the time and control of his body, he might have attempted to form the walls of a true cyst, to keep his mind from being assimilated. Unfortunately, Andrew's psyche was no longer in a position to affect his world in any way. The infant mind which ruled his body would behave exactly as the DNA-driven instincts demanded while Andrew could only watch and observe as his life spiraled down into the helpless depths of infancy.

Krystyn sat down in the rocking chair with Andy and rocked him as she fed him his bottle before his afternoon nap. Andrew's infant body suckled the nipple hungrily, eagerly devouring the sweet formula to fill the void in it's empty tummy. Andrew's adult mind caught glimpses of m the incessant barrage of subliminal destructive ideas that were meant to undermine the basis of his personality. He could still see, hear, smell and feel, albeit poorly through the narrow view afforded by the single loophole in the virtual Donjon he had created in self-defense. Andrew had assumed the tactical position of an impoverished King whose single hastily constructed tower was besieged by a hostile mob of ignorant peasants; he could neither march out to reclaim his lands until they dispersed nor could he affect the surrounding environment. He had become a prisoner of his rejuvenated body and brain. As the eyes of the formula sated infant body closed in slumber, Andrew's sensorium decreased by several orders of magnitude. Andrew's heart slowed while his respiration became slow and even as his body descended into a deep sleep. Despite himself, Andrew felt his psyche dragged unwillingly into the solace of nepenthe of slumber.

When he awoke again, his diaper was wet and messy. Andrew's infant mind reveled in the strong nursery smell that exuded from his dirty diaper and wriggled in positive delight at the warm aroma that filled the volume of the crib. Although the pee in the diaper had cooled a bit since being expelled in driblets from his tiny penis, the heat of his body and the insulation from the plastic-coated diaper had kept it from becoming cold. Instead, the absorbent padding of his disposable diaper had expanded and fluffed to an astounding degree. The trim diaper which he had worn to bed had become a pleasing squishy bulge between the infant's legs. The baby boy played with his diaper by bringing his legs together repeatedly and giggled as he felt the pee-soaked gel mold itself temporarily around the curve of the inside of his thighs, then expand back to it's former volume. After several repetitions, the exercise put pressure on his bladder and he peed again. The little warm trickle ran down his little scrotum between his testicles and pooled on the bottom of his diaper, giving him a warm comfortable feeling as the new pee was absorbed by the padding of the diaper.

The baby finally opened it's eyes, inadvertently waking Andrew from his sensorially-deprived and driven slumber. Baby Andy chuckled in glee and waved his legs happily as the sleepy adult Andrew psyche grimaced mentally in disgust at the baby's actions. The stench that leaked through the thousand or so cells of his remaining neural conduit to the outside world was overpowering; the sharp reek of ammonia would have made him gasp if he had controlled his lungs and the smell of the rank, fetid effluvium that came from his dirty diaper would have made him gag if he had been able to do so. As it was, the infant mind in control of his body was perfectly satisfied with the changes to it's environment it had made. It waved its arms and legs in perfect harmony with the dark world of the nursery and the fetid smells that emanated from his dirty diaper. It neither knew nor cared that there was a universe beyond the confines of the safety of its crib and the soft blankie it grasped tightly in its fist. The memory of the first mommy it had had so many years before had been erased from its mind. It was happy just being itself and having the power to move its limbs to produce changes in its field of vision. Like a drug-user who enjoyed the hallucinogen-induced visual trails left by moving his hand in front of his face, the baby was enchanted with the multiple images of its limbs as it waved them in its visual field. Baby Andy gooed and gaaed in appreciation of the wonderful time it was having merely lying on its back in a soaking wet diaper whose bottom sagged with soft mushy poo. Since the foreboding meanings of the dark colors of the nursery furniture had disappeared with its memory of the archetypal forms used in literature, the baby boy was ecstatically happy with its surroundings. When the nursery door opened and it saw Krystyn standing in the light of the hall with a full baby bottle of formula in her hand, the baby's happiness was complete. It cooed in welcome as Krystyn neared the crib, reaching up with its tiny hands to take the bottle which was soon to come.

"Well!", Krystyn said with a smile of triumph in her voice as she lowered the side of the crib, "You seem chipper after your nap! And with a messy diaper too, Mr. Stinky Bottom!" She reached in and tickled the baby's tummy causing it to giggle uproariously. "Since you seem to like wearing dirty diapers so much, I think I'll leave you in your poopy pants until you finish your ba-ba!" The baby gurgled happily in response and Krystyn laughed, saying, "It looks like there's nothing left of Andy but a little baby! Here baby! Take your ba-ba and drink it all down for Aunt Krystyn! That's a good baby!"

She let the end of the plastic bottle go as the baby took the bottle firmly in its grasp and began to voraciously suck on the nipple. The baby raised its knees and swung its legs back and forth idly as it noisily consumed the sweet formula. "Hmmm," Krystyn said thinking aloud, "Now that little Andy is gone, I'll have to think of another name for you. I can't have anyone connecting you with Andy's disappearance. Your new name will have to be something sweet, I think, to reflect the nature of a baby who won't ever grow up. Let me see, we don't want anything too masculine for someone with the balls the size of little peanuts. How about 'Percival'?"

Inside the densely-packed interwoven dendrites of his small neural fortress, Andrew grimaced his virtual face as Krystyn informed him of her plans to rename him 'Percy'.

"How dare she!", he thought to himself as he remembered a little boy he had once known in grade school who had been named Percival. Instead of having the personality of the Arthurian hero, the little boy's effeminate name had made him extremely quiet and retiring. Through the ages, the connotation of the ancient hero's name had changed; instead of conjuring the courageous image of an exceptional ancestor, its mention made little girls giggle and boys smirk nastily whenever the unfortunate owner's appellation was mentioned. Percival had become a name associated with the actions of limp-wristed, panty-waisted sissies rather than the sagas of a Celtic hero. Unlike the tireless, physically powerful Knight of the Round table, his classmate had seemed to be afflicted with aliments that made him chronically weak and unable to cope with the roughhousing in the schoolyard. Everyone thought that the kid was a spineless coward and treated him like a sissy. As a consequence, the little boy became psychologically isolated and longed for the company of boys who would like him. He gravitated to the other outcasts of the schoolyard and failed to develop an interest in girls that would have justified his existence in the eyes of his peers. The fact that girls giggled whenever he passed had not escaped him. It was obvious to Percy that although he was physically male, he would never join the robust clan of girl chasing classmates who surrounded him. He found other boys of like mind and they spent their free time in the first years of High School exploring each other's bodies in ways that were universally condemned by their classmates. The last time that Andrew had seen Percy was when he had dropped out of High School and ran off to San Francisco in search of a rich homosexual lover who would appreciate him for what he was. Andrew wasn't pleased at all by Krystyn's plan to rename him. The thought of being called Percy made shivers run up his virtual spine.

Andrew's neurological encystment had been a bad move from either a tactical or emotional standpoint. Separation from his physical body had partly restored his remembered body image. His mind had automatically constructed an imaginary body to express his feelings as psycho-biological clock ran madly backwards past toddlerhood into full blown infancy. Even though it was useless to connect with the outside world, it gave him an island of personal stability to cling to while he observed his subconscious regressing to match his eight-month-old body.

The baby giggled around the nipple in reply to the sound of the pretty woman's melodious voice. It hadn't the faintest idea what Krystyn was saying, but it liked the attention it was getting as it filled its tummy with the rich warm formula. As the baby giggled, it let a rivulet of formula-laden drool run out of the corner of his mouth and down the side of his cheek, causing Krystyn to smile as she said, "The little baby seems to like his new name, so Percival it is! Of course, Percival is much to pretentious to call a little baby, so I'll call you 'Percy'! 'Percy" has such a nice sweet ring to it that it almost sounds feminine. But I'm sure that doesn't matter to little Percy. With balls as small as his, he might as well be a little girl. Maybe I'll cast a small spell on you to give you long curly hair to soften your image and give you a more feminine look. Hmmm, I'll have to think seriously about doing that. It wouldn't take much of a spell to make your face look like a baby girl's. You'd look darling in a baby girl's sundress. With the right clothes and hairstyle you'd look just like a little girl. The mommy I have picked out for you seemed so intent on having a little girl that she might like having a baby boy who looked like a little girl. Mothers often dress up their baby boys in frilly clothes to show how sweet and delicate they are. No one would ever have to know that you're really a baby boy.

She laughed heartlessly at his helpless condition and said, "After all, it's not as if you'll ever grow out of your baby clothes! Your mother can tell her friends you're a baby girl and no one would ever know the difference!"

Krystyn tilted her head to the side to look at the paltry remnants of masculinity in his soft baby face and smiled crookedly. She looked thoughtful and said, "Maybe I was premature about choosing 'Percy' for you. You're still too masculine looking to pass as a little girl. Hmmm, if I made you look just a little more feminine looking, then I could name you something more androgynous. If you looked more like a little girl, maybe I could name you something like Drew, Robin, Tracy or Marian. Once I changed your looks a little and gave you a name that could be either male or female, only your clothes would give anyone a clue whether you're a little baby boy or girl. If I did that, your new mommy could make you her baby girl without anyone being the wiser. Your face isn't that macho anyhow; it wouldn't take much to make you look just like a sweet little baby girl. If I made your chin a little less prominent and your nose a bit shorter and cuter while changing the highlights on your cheeks and forehead, you'd make an adorable little girl. Of course, I'd also give you long curly locks that would make a judge in a baby beauty contest drool. It isn't like you'll ever be embarrassed at asking a girl out for a date that has the same name that you have or have to worry about being taken for a little girl in kindergarten. You won't be teased in grade school for how girlish your name sounds either, because you're never going to change from what you are now. It doesn't really matter what sex people think you are since you'll never get any older. You'll be a baby forever.

One way or the other, you'll always be a helpless infant that has to be cared for every day of your life. What does it matter whether you spend your time in baby doll dresses or an infant boy's overalls? You'll get cuddled and cared for one way or the other. I think this is a 'marketing' decision for me to make. The sale of your body means money to me and I have to think of how profitable you would be if you were 'packaged' differently. Whatever I decide, it doesn't matter to your infant mind anyway. You're past caring what your mommy dresses you in or what sex people think you are. I'll make the decision based on the amount of money I think I can get if I make the modification. Hell, I'll have to change your name anyway, a little more magic may help nail the deal down tight and hide your identity better. I can't afford to keep an unwanted baby around here unless I have a buyer. Without a customer, you're only a smelly, troublesome liability. As for your new name, I guess I'll have to think about it and sleep on my decision. By tomorrow, you'll have a new identity and name."

Andrew would have screamed had he had control of his vocal cords. The thought of being named after a sissy was bad enough, but the idea of being turned into a infant transvestite was abhorrent to him. The dark nightmare had continued to descend into vile pathways that would have made his adult scrotum draw itself up protectively into the safety of his groin and triggered a violent reaction from the rest of him. As it was, he could only lay helplessly in the foolishly giggling body that he occupied and pray silently to his God that he'd be delivered from a fate that he considered worse than death. His virtual stomach wanted to throw up at the very idea of being turned into a baby boy in a humiliatingly short, frilly, ruffled baby doll dress with beribboned puffed sleeves with a starched white crinoline petticoat underlayer. Andrew shuddered as he imagined how he would look with his bottom diapered in a thick, overnight disposable covered by totally mortifyingly pink, waterproof rumba-panties with rows of delicate white lace-trim. He could easily picture himself creeping at the feet of Krystyn and her friends while they would make snide comments about how adorable his exposed behind looked in the bulging, baby girl undergarment as he drooled uncontrollably and babbled nonsensically for their entertainment.

Krystyn tickled her tiny investment on the belly affectionately and left him to console himself with the company of the stuffed toys of the nursery. By tomorrow, she would have to begin taking care of Andy infant he/she had become. "Andrea, maybe?", she thought to herself chuckling at the thought of giving an obvious girl's name to a baby boy as she closed the door and walked down the hall, "No, that would be too much," she thought shaking her head mentally at the idea. She had told her client that he was a little boy, if she gave him a girl's name it might scare her client off. It was really too bad that he had regressed mentally so quickly that he couldn't appreciate the horror of being treated like a baby girl when he still had the equipment of a baby boy. She had done the same thing to some of her more recalcitrant charges and the had knuckled under almost immediately into a total surrender to his fate.

A smile came overtook her face when she remembered how horrified had looked when she dressed one of her most rebellious charges in an Empire-waisted Baby Doll dress and heavily-laced plastic rumba panties. At first, he had positively spit in her direction every time she had entered the nursery! But after she had invited some friends from the Coven over to view her baby "girl", his humiliation at being seen in "public" dressed as a baby girl had broken him completely. The women in the Coven had bounced him on their respective knees and told him what a pretty little baby girl he was while patting him on his diapered bottom. Within minutes he had begun crying and was passed to the next woman for comforting. Each woman in her turn put her hand up the back of his short dress (It hadn't even covered the bottom of his diaper.) and had patted him on the bottom reassuringly while murmuring babytalk to him before he was passed to the next woman. By the time they had finished passing him around the circle, his free will was sundered forever. Half-way through the process, he had begun wailing uncontrollably in extreme embarrassment. He had looked glad to take the nipple of his bottle in his mouth when Krystyn offered it forth. At the end of the day he had accepted his plight and was pleased for the opportunity to mouth and drool over the toys in his playpen.

From the way Andy was acting, the extra measure to break his will was unnecessary, his mind had already turned into puréed infant , she'd set up a short term contract for her one of her charges to be taken care of in the mornings for at least a week before she left them in Amber's care. Being treated like brainless infants by a group of efficiently aproned Daycare workers weakened the will of her captives and made them more passive. Once her charges discovered that their communications skills were reduced to that of the other infants in the center, they usually stopped making any attempt to speak in other than incomprehensible gurgles of extreme need by the end of the first day. The workers would disregard any efforts on the part of Krystyn's babies to express themselves by any means but whimpers or wails so they were forced to either sound like their diapered comrades in the nursery or suffer the effects of being completely ignored. Unless Krystyn's charges acted exactly like the other babies in the nursery, they were left to fend for themselves while they were given extended timeouts in a playpens or cribs that were empty of toys or diversions.

The effects on the morale of the babies so treated was devastating. At first they would be enraged, then as time passed and they discovered how helpless they had become, Krystyn's babies would sink into a deep depression. It was not uncommon for them to sit in their playpens and cribs, weeping silently for hours on end. At some point, their hunger and soiled diapers became too much for them and they would begin to cry out loud in the high pitched tones of an infant. The workers would immediately take notice of the ignored infant and tend to his needs. By the second day, Krystyn's little ones would have learned how to get their diapers changed or their hunger assuaged. Once they had learned how to behave properly, the slightly more entertaining world of infants was opened to them. They would be given pacifiers and soft fluffy toys to cuddle and allowed to creep around the nursery's play area with the other infants. At first their play would be tentative, but as the days passed they would become comfortable acting out their most childish impulses. The instinctive oral urges of their infant bodies would overcome the cortical censorship of their rapidly regressing adult minds and they would start sucking on anything that was within their reach. By the end of the week, even the most experienced mother could not have discerned any difference between their behavior and the other infants in the nursery.

In Jimmy's case, Krystyn thought that his regression had proceeded so completely that the Daycare treatment wasn't needed to destroy his will. Krystyn decided to put him in Daycare as a convenience to her, rather subjecting him to the experience as one of her brainwashing techniques. "Nonetheless," she thought to herself as she packed his diaper bag and readied him for the trip, "the experience will be good for him. He'll be able to interact with real babies and see for himself how babies his age sound and look to outsiders." She chuckled to herself as she thought, "Considering the way he's been acting, he should fit right in with everyone else in the nursery!"

Kystyn had found that having her charges interact with real babies made them more tractable in general. Usually, it only took about two days for the first effects on their personalities to be seen. The other infants were the perfect foil to her charges; they let her charges see themselves as others saw them rather than the self-image of adulthood that they retained. If they were deemed to be behaving themselves by the attendants, her charges were allowed to creep about the nursery section of the Daycare center with the other babies and play with the infantine toys scattered around the stain-proof, indoor-outdoor carpeting. Misbehavior by children of any age wasn't tolerated at the Daycare center. If one of the babies at the Daycare was fussy or ill-mannered, it would find itself confined to a playpen until it was time for its nap. Since the nursery workers were all members of the Coven, there was no need to worry about being exposed. The workers in the older sections of the Daycare weren't in on the secret of the transformed babies. They had no idea that several of the infants who were put in the nursery section of the Daycare each morning were the husbands, boyfriends and sometimes the girlfriends of the workers. Rarely did the other witches of the Coven permanently transmogrify their victims. Usually a day or two, or perhaps a morning and afternoon of babyhood was enough to insure that the little ones would listen to the orders of the powerful women who ruled their lives. Spells of silence and obedience kept the sometime babies in line after they were returned to adulthood. On occasion however, if the regressed paramour of a particular witch spent too much time as an infant, he or she sometimes required daily diapering as an adult until he or she could be potty-trained again. The humiliation would often break the will of the adults so treated and make them even more amenable to the will of their mistresses.

Krystyn's charges and Becky's Joey were the exceptions to the rule. Krystyn's charges were to be reduced to infancy by any means possible in as short a time as could be managed.

Little Joey had been completely broken by the command of his mother/wife. Little Joey spent every weekday morning and afternoon in the care of the witches who ran the nursery, helplessly awaiting the attentions of his caretakers. His cause was hopeless; he had spent too long with other babies to be able to be allowed to be a man ever again. If he had managed an adult behavior in front of the Daycare workers, then his wife would have been called and another, more effective enchantment would have been laid upon him to insure that he remained an infant in thought and deed.

Krystyn's charges were always broken utterly, until they hadn't an adult thought in their blue-eyed, curly-locked blonde heads. Krystyn picked Jimmy up out of his playpen and carried him to her car, strapping him securely in the baby seat in the rear, then stowed his diaper bag on the floor behind the passenger seat.

A few minutes later they arrived and parked at the Daycare center. Krystyn unbuckled Jimmy from the seat and hoisted him over her right hip to carry him inside. When Krystyn opened the second of the doubled air-locking glass doors of the center, little Jimmy saw that the walls of the reception area had been painted a restful light blue with two foot diameter spots of pink, yellow and aqua-green. The woman at the reception counter was expecting them and buzzed for one of the nursery attendants. Krystyn had called ahead and had arranged everything with her friend. They were met at the front counter by a pert young woman who said, "This must be little Jimmy! I was told to expect him. Sign him in and I'll take his diaper bag."

The young woman reached out her arms and took Jimmy into her hands, leaving the diaper bag where Krystyn placed it on the countertop. Jimmy squealed in fear and abandonment as he was taken out of the main reception area and huddled against the young woman as he was carried into a room with a gay nursery cutout over the door to indicate the age of the room's occupants.

The last he saw of Krystyn was her back as the glass door of the entrance closed behind her. Andrew was in a panic as well as Jimmy. He had been left in an unfamiliar place to be taken care of by strangers. Who knew what they were really like? Would they feed and change him, or leave him to languish in dirty diapers all day? What if he had a medical emergency? Would these people call Krystyn? Could she be reached? Would they let him die alone and uncared for in some forgotten crib? As angry as he was with Krystyn, at least she was a reliable caretaker for him. At least she made sure he was bathed, fed and changed his diapers regularly. Who were these people and why should they care about him? They were total unknowns! The sound of the infants' crying from the nursery section of the Daycare was ominous…

Baby Jimmy was in a terrible state. His MOMMY had left him. Where was she? Didn't she understand that they were two inseparable parts? He was surrounded by odd faces and screaming infants. He wanted his mommy!

"Don't cry, Sweetheart!" said the Daycare worker sympathetically, "My name is Gail and I'm going to see that you're made nice and comfy the way a baby should be!" Then she opened the lower half of the nursery door to admit herself and closed it behind her.

As the nursery's lower door closed, Andrew's adult mind went into a state of blind panic in utter despair and abandonment. She had really done it! She had abandoned him! At first he had hoped her leaving was only some sort of sick joke. Once he knew the truth, the bottom fell out of his stomach and gave him a sick feeling of absolute helplessness in an unknown and uncontrollable situation. His mouth tasted of bitter copper and the baby part of his mind made him wet his diapers in terror. It wasn't that he was attached to Krystyn. On the contrary, he was still livid with her, but she was the only remaining thread he had with his previous life. Once she was gone, he was just another baby in a nursery full of infants. At least Krystyn knew who he really was. No one else had a clue to his previous existence. Andrew had been lonely as an unknown college student, but the absolute sense of abandonment he felt as the nursery door closed overwhelmed him. For the first time in his life, he was without anyone he knew who could help him. He was completely alone in a room full of diapered babies and their caregivers. There was no escape. Once the door was shut, he was committed unto the supervision of people he had never met who held the power of life and death over him. As he was carried into the nursery, he was greeted with a cri de coeur from almost every one of the nursery's hungry inhabitants as he was brought into middle of the room to be assigned his crib. Had Andrew been able to scream like the other babies in the nursery, he would have.

The door itself was made in two parts in the old fashion of a Dutch kitchen door. In use, the upper half was always left open unless the infant screaming in the nursery became too loud for the other children in the Daycare to be able to take their naps. The bottom half was always left closed so that the infants who were allowed to play on the carpet couldn't escape to the other areas of the Daycare center. The cutout tacked over the lintel was constructed of thin Norwegian birch plywood and depicted a large white stork with a bright yellow-orange beak and long golden legs. Gripped securely in its beak, the stork held a laughing baby cradled in a enormous white sling with the baby's legs wagging happily on the side nearest the stork. Clearly, from the advertisement over the door, the Daycare's nursery was a place of contentment and pleasure for the infants who were lucky enough to spend their day with the cheerful faces of the commercial aproned nannies who ran that section of the Daycare center.

Jimmy was taken to each of the nursery workers in turn and introduced as "Jimmy, Krystyn's latest!", before being put in a playpen temporarily while the woman returned for his diaper bag. As expected, Krystyn had signed him in and left without a word. The woman picked up Jimmy's bag and took a self-adhesive paper label from beneath the counter, then wrote his name on the label to stick on the bag. Having placed a proper ID on the bag, she returned to the nursery and took the bottles and the jar of baby out of his bag. Once she had finished labeling the bottles of formula and jarred food, she put them in the refrigerator until they were needed. Then she placed his diaper bag on one of the shelves mounted high on the wall for storage.

One of the workers closed the upper door to the nursery temporarily so they could talk privately about Krystyn's changeling. They crowded around his playpen and made comments to each other, saying variously, "Well, isn't he a cutiepie?"

"Isn't he, though?", said another.

"I wonder what he looked like as a man? I'll bet he was good looking! Krystyn always wants to change the good looking ones!", said the third.

"Well," said Gail with finality, "Whatever he looked liked before, he's an infant now. It's none of our business what he was before. Besides, it's Krystyn's spell and we can't change it! You know the rules!"

The third woman grinned evilly and asked. "Did Krystyn leave any special instructions for him or do we treat him like all of Krystyn's babies?"

Gail shrugged as she said, "Since she didn't say that we should treat him any differently, then I guess we'll just follow her standing orders. It's up to you; he doesn't act like the others very much, but he may be better at hiding it than the others. Unless they're fighting the change, I don't get much of a kick from teasing them. While I don't have any sympathy for men, as all of you are well aware of, I do like being around babies. Otherwise, why would I work here?"

"Because Becky ordered you to…", the third woman snickered quietly under her breath.

Gail bent deeper over the rail of the playpen and said to the diaper-clad baby boy who sat looking up at her with innocent eyes, "Poor little baby! I don't know if you understand me, but you might as well accept what you've become. You're never going to get any older. You'll be like this for the rest of your life!"

Jimmy whimpered at the profusion of enormous faces that surrounded him; their grins of Amazonian triumph frightened him and made him wish that Krystyn was there to protect him. His back bent as he sank down in the playpen and lowered his head so he wouldn't have to look up at the terrifying sneers of the witches who reveled in the debasement of men.

"So they know!", Andrew's mind thought to itself fearfully, "They must be in league with Krystyn! Oh God, help me! Look at the way they're grinning at me! What do they have planned?"

"Oh, dear. He looks frightened! I guess he's more of an infant than Krystyn's usually are. I think this little one would feel better if he had some playtime with the other babies. What do you think? Should we take him out of the playpen and let him crawl around with the others. He doesn't look like he's going to try to escape. What do you say, girls? Shall we?", asked Gail.

There was general assent as Jimmy was lifted from the playpen and placed upon the floor in the corner reserved for playing infants. Jimmy crept over to the infants and watched the little ones playing there. Joey was sitting in the corner wearing nothing but a diaper as usual and was drooling heavily while he sucked on the thick red plastic teething ring that was in his mouth. Neither he nor Joey recognized each other.

Andrew's mind gazed though a baby's eyes on the nursery around him. Everywhere he looked there were nothing but little diapered babies' and the daycare workers. He couldn't see any means of escape that his weak muscles and tiny body could effect. The helplessness of infancy had ensnared him as surely as a leg chain around the ankles would have pinioned an adult prisoner.

The other babies smiled vacantly as if they were having a good time but were too innocent to realize that there was any other state of being. Andrew didn't know that the majority of the infants with vacuous expressions where really the boyfriends of the workers in the nursery who were being punished for showing too much independence from their witch girlfriend/mommies. They peed and pooped in their diapers just like the other inhabitants of the nursery and gave no clue to what they had been before their girlfriends had gone to work that morning. As a group, they were in psychic shock at their transformation into infancy. It wasn't that they had individually done anything to deserve their fate on that morning. The women had unanimously decided the week before to have a "baby day" for all their boyfriends or husbands to teach them who was boss in the family.

The regressed men played serenely on the floor making delighted cooing and chuckling noises as they stacked blocks and made exciting noises with the baby toys. Unlike Joey, their girlfriends had regressed their minds as well so they would fit in with the other infants in the nursery. Once the day was done, the witches would remove their spells and allow their boyfriends (or husbands) to return to normal with complete memories of their day in the Center's nursery. By the end of the day, they would grovel at their mistresses feet upon command, fearful that the experience could be repeated until their minds were turned into the homogeneous pap that the nursery served up for breakfast to the weaned babies. The witches found their cruelty towards their partners highly entertaining. Their Coven wasn't devoted to either Wicca or Satan. Theirs was an association devoted to the worship of raw power over others. There was no religion in what they did, only a love of the destruction of another human's will. Their maternal efforts only served to demonstrate the gulf between them and their unwilling subjects. If they were kind, it was to prove that their powers were so great that they could condescend to care for the lowliest of human creatures.

Under the circumstances, Andrew's utter dismay at being imprisoned among a group of babbling, drooling infants was understandable. He had no clue that there were other semi-lost souls who were unconsciously enduring the same humiliation at being forced to creep about the nursery floor on all fours wearing nothing but diapers. Andrew's mortification was particularly keen; the hidden adult part of his mind hadn't been clouded by a spell and he knew exactly what Joey was doing. When little Joey picked up a spit-covered teething ring from the floor that had been recently dropped by one of the nursery's inmates and put it in his mouth, Andrew wanted to vomit in absolute revulsion. The experience wasn't improved by the pleasant feelings pouring in from his mouth and tongue; it was the idea of sucking on another baby's drool coated toy that made him queasy.

The third woman noticed the sick look on Andrew's face as he watched Jimmy and became suspicious. As an experiment, she took the teething ring from Joey's mouth and quickly replaced it with one from the pockets of her apron before Joey began to cry.

She walked over to Andrew with the teething ring half-hidden in her hand and popped it into his mouth before he realized what she had done. When Andrew looked down his nose and saw the teething ring in his mouth, he spit it out and gagged in utter abhorrence.

"Ah ha!", the woman exclaimed, "So you are faking it! I knew it! Girls, gather round! Krystyn's newest baby Jimmy doesn't seem to like teething rings! Look at the expression on his face! I put a teething ring in his mouth and he immediately spit it out and got a sick look on his face. I swear he looks like he's about to barf all over the floor!"

"Oh really?", asked one of the others with a malicious smile on her face, "Then I guess we need to introduce him to his new lifestyle."

All the workers in the nursery gathered around Andrew and leered down at him expectantly. Andrew shivered involuntarily at the evil expressions of sadistic glee that was mirrored on every woman's face. Andrew felt like a mouse surrounded by a roomful of Maine Coon cats who had decided to play with their prey before devouring it. He looked up at them helplessly, waiting for the jibs and taunts to begin.

The third witch began the round of humiliation by inquiring teasingly, "Soooo, little man! How do you like wearing diapers day long and night? At least this way, you won't be leaving brown stains on the back of your undies anymore, will you? Krystyn told us about you!"

Gail saw him gazing up lecherously at their breasts looming over him like gigantic rock overhangs of a narrow canyon that had never been surmounted and conquered by a man. She smiled wicked at his prurient gape and said with a sneer, "You sure had me fooled! Of course, there's not all that much difference between the way a man acts and an infant. Do you like our tiddies, baby? Do they make you drool in lust? I'm afraid that you're much too small to have sex with a woman now. Even if you could get an erection, it would only be an inch long! The best that you could manage for a woman would be to tickle her with your so-called manhood. You're much too tiny to enter a woman at the size you are now. I think you should concentrate on getting women to nurse you. Sucking on a woman's tiddies is probably not much different from what you got from women before your change anyway. At least as a baby, women won't have any false expectations of what you can do for their pleasure. You don't have to worry about being impotent with a woman now. One look at you and they'll know that the only way you can pleasure them and yourself is suckling."

Andrew unconsciously put his hand down to his diaper to grasp his crotch and reaffirm the truth of what Gail had said. When he felt nothing but padding beneath the plastic covering of his diaper, he panicked and squeezed as hard as he could with his tiny hand. Tears began rolling down his face when he realized she was right. No matter how hard he compressed the fluffy padding that covered his crotch, all he could feel was the disposable diaper. For all intents and purposes, Krystyn had turned him into a eunuch! Andrew bent his head in defeat and wept bitter silent tears at his fate.

The third woman leaned down close to his face and said condescendingly, "Well,….I wouldn't get upset about it if I were you. I doubt you'll ever have many opportunities for dating women anytime in the future. The only females you'll be getting close to will be your babysitters! I seriously doubt that any of them will have any sexual interests in you, will they, BABY?"

When the woman delivered her final verbal blow, Andrew began bawling like one of the infants in the nursery. The women collectively shook their heads as Gail said, "Little babies who make a fuss in OUR nursery get a timeout in the playpen! I don't think you're ready to play with the other babies just yet."

Gail moved behind him and put her hands beneath his armpits to pick him up from the rear. Then she carried him to the nearest empty playpen and held him helplessly over the plastic pad of the playpen before dropping him unceremoniously to it's floor.

Andrew was startled by being dropped and stopped bawling immediately. Gail bent down low and said over the railing of the playpen, "See, you're quieter now! You're just not ready for the company of your peers in diapers. Maybe later this afternoon if you're good you can play with them."

She blew a kiss at him derisively and suddenly Andrew realized just how attractive Gail was, even though she was bent on humiliating him. He couldn't help it. Her abundant breasts had shifted towards her shoulders in her bra when she leaned over the railing. Gail's blouse wasn't buttoned completely to the top and Andrew's eyes boggled as he started at the vast cleavage and watched her teats slip up and almost out of her bra. Despite the humiliation the women had heaped upon him, Andrew was fascinated with the burlesque-like performance of the comely woman's anatomy. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the promise of the boobs that seemed ready to jump out and dangle in front of his face at any moment.

Gail noticed his look and laughed as she rearranged herself while straightening up. She knelt carefully at the side of the playpen and said a low erotic tone that dripped with encouragement, "Does baby think I'm sexy? Does hims like my boobies?"

She stood to her full height to tower over him and continued patronizingly, "I'm sorry, Baby, but I think you're too young for me. Maybe if you're REALLY sweet and behave yourself today I might think about it. Frankly, I don't go for men. Especially ones who look like little baby boys and have to wear diapers! Still, if you're good today, I might think about talking Krystyn into letting me babysit you diapers and feeding him when all the other infants were fed, they would leave him to his own devices.

When it was time for breakfast of finely ground rice cereal, he watched in horror as four of his compatriots were carried to high chairs that sat against the wall and were strapped in the chairs, bibbed, and fed simultaneously by a team of Daycare workers.

Once the feeding session was done, each of the babies had it's face wiped with a damp washcloth and received a bottle of formula. Then the babies were put into one of the four playpens that separated the cribs from each other and left to finish their bottles on their own without adult assistance. Then the next group of four babies was seized and similarly treated, then they were given bottles and removed from their high chairs. Each one was placed in a playpen that was occupied by a baby who was busily suckling and the process was repeated for the third time with the last four babies in the room.

When Jimmy was picked up by the strange woman, he whimpered in fear for a moment until he too was strapped into one of the high chairs to be spoon fed like the infants before him. The rice cereal had almost no taste to Andrew but he was forced to endure the horror of having his breakfast spooned into his mouth whether he was ready or not. The attendants hadn't bothered to wash the plastic bibs between feedings, so when he looked down his bib protected chest, all he could see was a bright yellow bib that had been almost completely coated with a layer of spilled and regurgitated cereal that the previous users had deposited on the plastic of the bib. Had Andrew been in control of his body, he'd have barfed immediately. Jimmy was unaware of the mess on his chest and swallowed the innocuous mush with delight as he made his own additions to the his infantile breastplate. When little Jimmy's meal was finished, he received his bottle and joined two of his nursery mates in one of the playpens.

As his mouth pulled at the nipple on his bottle like the babes in the playpen, Andrew could hear the sucking sound of a vacuum being repeatedly created and vented being echoed by the other inhabitants of his playpen. The smell of baby powder from the disposable diapers of the three babies was overpowering. Andrew glimpsed the studious faces of the playpen's co-tenants as they nursed and realized with dismay that Jimmy's visage would have exactly the same expression as he suckled the nipple of his bottle. As the three babies' tummies filled with formula, the inevitable voiding of their tiny bladders made the front of their diapers begin to sag under the weight of the pee that was quietly absorbed by the padding. Andrew's crotch grew warm and realized that Jimmy had also wet himself. Then, one-by-one each baby began emitting little popping noises as they farted at the commencement of making bowel movements into their diapers. The sweet smell of the baby powder in the playpen was soon inundated in the rank, fetid stench that oozed from the bottoms of the three assembled infants. Little Jimmy looked around idly as he finished his bottle and Andrew was able to see that the other infants who had been fed first were in a similar state. The production line feeding of the infants in the nursery had produced exactly the same reactions in all the infants. The attendants identified the worst cases and began changing their diapers, four babies at a time, with exactly the same efficiency that had been employed to feed them earlier.

Soon it was Jimmy's turn at the changing station and Andrew felt himself being picked up and carried to the long table next to the wall. Before the attendant changed his diaper, she sat him up on the table and began patting him on the back gently. A minute later, Andrew was embarrassed by the tremendous eructation that her ministrations produced. Once winded, he was ready to be changed.

The worker smiled tartly and said in a tone that managed to be both sarcastic and annoyed simultaneously, "Oh boy, do you stink! Gee, I thought you still had an adult mind! What's the matter little one, didn't you ever learn to control yourself? Didn't your mother ever potty-train you?

His attendant laid him down and said with a derisive smirk as she began to unfasten the tapes at the sides of his diaper, "You know, if you were a MAN, then I'd be stripping you for another reason entirely!"

She used the soggy front of his diaper to quickly wipe the worst of the mess from his bottom as she held his heels high in the air with one hand. "Well, well, well…Just look at the all the poop under your bottom! Has my little man made a mess of himself?", she said caustically as she wiped him clean, "It's no wonder that Krystyn changed you into an infant. Just look at the mess that you've made in your diaper! What did you do when you were an adult; wear incontinent briefs with a disposable pad under your pants every day? This diaper is positively soaked! I swear from the looks of it, you've been peeing in your diaper for over an hour. Why didn't you cry to get yourself changed? You must be one of those men who like to wet themselves. You must have been one of those perverts that liked to diaper and wet themselves. You deserve to be in diapers! I think Krystyn did you a favor to turn you into a baby again! You're not even trying to control yourself! I'll bet your mommy had a time potty-training you the first time! Well, that's all over now! No more going to the potty for little Jimmy! He has his diapers again and that's all he'll ever need! In the long run, your disposable diapers will save some woman a lot of undie washing!"

Little Jimmy whimpered at the worker's reproving tone. Andrew would have wept had he been able. Instead, he shut his mind to the worker's comments as she continued to change his diaper.

Long forgotten feelings of guilt arose in his mind as he remembered his mother spanking him when he was four-years-old for pooping his pants and then threatening to put him back in diapers permanently. The memory of that time made Andrew wince in remembered humiliation. The incident had followed a week of bedwetting that had made his mother take out his old crib from storage and reassemble it for him to sleep in until he learned to control his bladder while he slept. She had told him when she put him in the crib that even a youth mattress was too expensive to let him destroy it by peeing on it every night. His mother had said the first night she had made him sleep in his old crib that "At least your old crib mattress is waterproof ! I swear, Andy, if this continues, I don't know what I'm going to do! You're too big to be behaving like this! Do you want to be a baby all your life?"

The next morning he had been wet as usual and his mother had frowned disapprovingly as she put him in a tub to soak off the pee that had dried on his skin. When she came back, she put him in one of the training pants he had worn a year earlier. They were a bit tight on him and the seams of the legs dug into the skin of his legs. When she refused to let him wear any pants that day, four-year-old Andrew was mortified. She dressed him in a T-shirt and made him watch TV while sitting on one of his baby blankets. Later that morning, he had pooped in his training pants and his mother had thrown a fit. She cleaned him up and gave him a bare-bottomed spanking over her lap and then used regular safety pins to secure him in a triple layer of tattered old diapers that she had been using as dust cloths since he was potty-trained. Then she took him to the store, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and the thick covering of holey diapers to buy him a set of new cloth diapers, diaper pins and several pairs of the largest plastic pants they had as well as two large plastic baby bottles and nipples.

Andrew spent the rest of the week in cloth diapers, eating baby food and nursing from a baby bottle as if he was twelve-months-old again. Andrew's mother made sure he wouldn't become voluntarily constipated by deliberately withholding his stools by the simple means of adding a combination of lactose and Colace to every bottle of formula he drank. By the end of the day, his stools were as soft as a newborn's and as impossible to control. The first time he pooped in his diapers, he cried inconsolably for hours afterwards. On the second day, his anal sphincter adjusted itself to the new environment and became completely relaxed. His body knew instinctively that there was no point in wasting effort over the inevitable. Later that day, his bladder sphincter gave up the battle for continence as well. Andrew was shattered, within two days he had been reduced to the same level of bladder and bowel control as the average one-year-old. He began wetting and messing himself with no prior notice whatsoever. Andrew's mother continued the laxative treatment for another day, just to be positive that it was working and from then on she gave him unadulterated baby formula. Of course, she hedged her bets by feeding him a jar of Gerber strained prunes every day to taper him off the laxatives slowly.

His mother went to extraordinary lengths to embarrass her four-year-old son. She got out his old high chair, stroller, playpen and toys from the attic and put away the older toys of a four-year-old. She refused to allow him to watch TV, forcing him instead to spend his time in his playpen with the toys of his infancy. If he tried to talk, she put a pacifier in his mouth. His meals were exactly the same that he ate as a one-year-old; formula and baby food. She changed his diapers only four times a day; once in the morning when he woke and after every meal. If he wet or messed them at any other time, he was forced to endure the discomfort until the next diaper change. Fortunately for the condition of his skin, she would slather a thick coating of vaseline over his bottom and pubes at every diaper change to provide a rash preventing moisture barrier. Even with the vaseline, the long periods in wet diapers took their toll and by the end of the week, he had acquired a mild rash on his perineum and inner thighs.

Andrew grew to hate cloth diapers, associating them with the heavy, cold, soggy sensation they gave him after the first hour or so after he had wet or messed them. If she had put him in disposable diapers, their limited absorbency would have forced her to change him after the first or second wetting so he wouldn't leak all over everything. The embarrassing crinkling sound they made was better than the being forced to drag a heavy sodden flannelette diaper like a medieval punishment for his lack of continence. At least then, he'd have had been in a clean dry diaper after every wetting. As it was, the double and triple layers of diapers she used in combination with the tight-fitting plastic panties allowed her to leave him in them all day without staining the rug or furniture. She took him everywhere in his diapers; to her friend's houses, shopping and for the final humiliation, she took him to his pediatrician for a checkup dressed like a baby. His pediatrician observed the diapers and plastic pants that had been removed by the office nurse and carefully laid out at the head of the examining table. When the pediatrician asked why he was back in diapers again, wondering if he had been having problems with his potty training, his mother had responded that he had seemed to have regressed in the past week and could no longer keep himself clean or dry. The physician hmmm-ed noncommittally and diagnosed little Andy as having a mild case of diaper rash and had prescribed an ointment to be applied to his crotch and anal area at every diaper change.

Andrew remembered that he had been so embarrassed that he had put his thumb in his mouth to hide the expression of humiliation on his face. The pediatrician had only smiled down at the regressive behavior of the little boy who still made messes and sucked his thumb like a baby. From little Andy's behavior, it was obvious that his mother had made the correct diagnosis of temporary regression. Andy's regression had probably been set off by some fear or new responsibility that he had not been able to deal with psychologically. The pediatrician had seen many other cases like little Andy's and had always counseled the parents to address their child's temporary problems with patience and love, even to the extent of putting them back in diapers and letting them drink from baby bottles when necessary. In a child of four, such regressions were so common as to almost to be expected and he had treated boys with the same behavior at ages six and seven. Usually when the child received the attention and love he needed, the child's need to be a baby again disappeared within six months. From the mother's caring attitude toward her little boy's problems, the pediatrician doubted that his forced diapering was evidence of child abuse. After all, didn't Andy suck his thumb in front of a stranger? If he had been forced into diapers against his will, he wouldn't have behaved like an infant in front of his doctor.

When his mother explained that he had started peeing and pooping himself both day and night, the pediatrician had nodded knowledgeably and agreed with his mother's solution to the problem, noting that little boys mature later than little girls in order to reassure her.

By the end of the week, the tearful little boy apologized to his mother profusely in baby talk and promised that he was ready to be potty trained again. He assured her that he would be good if she would only allow him to be a "big boy" again. Andrew's mother had relented somewhat and put him on probation. Instead of being fed puréed baby food, he would be allowed to eat toddler-style finger food while sitting in his high chair. She also decided that he "might" be big enough to use a "tippy cup" instead of a baby bottle. On the question of being allowed to wear regular underwear, however, his mother was firm. He had to "prove" himself before he could wear "big boy" pants again. She told him that as far as she was concerned, he wasn't potty trained and would have to show her he knew how to use a regular potty instead of his pants. His mother brought out his old potty chair and made him wear training pants for a month and use the potty seat instead of the toilet. Once he was in training pants again, she took his old potty chair out of storage and placed it in the family room next to the TV instead of the bathroom where it had been kept when he was potty-trained the first time. Andrew's mother felt that the shame and embarrassment of having all of his playmates know that he had to use a potty chair would be a strong inducement for him to behave himself.

The next week, when her friends came over for a visit, she found an excuse to make him stand in front of her while she sat on the couch in the family room and then stripped him buck naked in front of her friends as if he was a tot with no sense of modesty and who lacked the ability to undress himself. As the women tittered behind their coffee cups, she demanded that he use the potty then and there in front of everyone. The children that accompanied their mothers and with whom Andrew normally played stood in open-mouthed shock when they saw their ostensible peer being treated like a two-year-old. As Andrew squatted and strained to pee on command within the confines of the small potty seat, the children overheard Andrew's mother telling their mothers that he had only graduated from diapers the week before and hooted in derision. The group of children quickly recovered their aplomb and branded Andrew with the shameful name of "Baby" when they observed his bottom being wiped before his mother forced him to lay on the floor so she could put his training pants over his legs. Instantly, he became a pariah to the boys in the room; they absolutely refused to have anything to do with the "Baby" out of a fear of being association with such a babyish kid. The girls however, thought he was adorable; they treated him as if he was a younger sibling who was just out of diapers.

Andrew's mother noticed the children's reaction and saw her chance to make the consequences of his incontinence so emotionally painful that he would never forget the lesson. She made him sit down in a corner of the family room wearing nothing but his padded training pants, then she placed him under the watchful eyes of the girls, forcing him to endure the shame of being treated like a toddler by girls his own age. The girls were ecstatic over their living "baby" doll. They pampered and mothered him unmercifully, putting their hands down the front of his pants to check for "wetties" and asked Andrew's mother for a binkie for little Andy. Andrew's mother cheerfully complied with their request and even let them "feed" him his milk from a baby bottle. It was six months before his former playmates would allow him to play with them again and almost a year before their "big baby" jokes at his expense stopped. During those months of isolation, Andrew looked to adult women such as his preschool teachers as his protectors from the harsh reality of boyhood ostracism. Andrew's four-year-old mind never forgave his mother for handing down such a terrible punishment for wetting the bed. Subconsciously, he began a lifelong quest to replace the mother who had treated him so wickedly. Even though the emotional wounds he suffered eventually healed over with a ropy protective keloid scar, his subconscious perception of women as protectors remained throughout his adolescence and teenaged years as an utterly fixed viewpoint. The utter humiliation of the entire experience had made his conscious mind bury the memory of those two weeks as deeply as he could.

All of his memories of the most humiliating time in his life flashed through Andrew's mind in an instant as the woman in the Daycare center changed him. It was happening all over again, only this time, there would be no redemption from his fate. He was going to be a baby forever!

Once the greater part of the mess had been removed, she took a baby wipe and washed his bottom clean. Then she slid a clean diaper beneath his bottom and gently lowered him to the soft, dry padding of the fresh disposable. Dropping the soiled wipe on top of the dirty diaper, the attendant took another wipe from the red plastic tub and cleansed the pee from his pubes. The she pulled the diaper up between his legs and fastened the tapes tightly at his waist. As she dropped the second wipe on top of the first and folded the soiled diaper into a neat bundle and taped it closed for disposal, Andrew lay quietly on the table and thought about what had just happened. He was astonished at how little time it had taken to change his diaper. Had he attempted to change a baby when he was in his adult body, it would have taken five or ten minutes. His attendant had changed him in less than two minutes and had efficiently bundled and disposed of the dirty diaper in only thirty seconds more.

He was carried to the play area and deposited amid a pile of large multicolored plastic blocks that had two large round flat pegs protruding from the tops of the light weight blocks to match similar depressions on the bottoms of the blocks. The only disconcerting thing about the blocks was their size, if a standard toy block for babies had been scaled up for an adult, they would make perfect building blocks for an adult's hand if an adult had been interested in playing with blocks. For Jimmy's small hands, the blocks were quite large, they measured approximately nine inches long by three inches high and four inches deep. Andrew was surprised by how little they weighed as baby Jimmy took one block and stacked it on another. When Jimmy turned over one of the blocks that still had its original label on the side, Andrew could see why they were so lightweight. The label read "Chubs Stackables" and underneath the product name it said in smaller lettering, "Baby Wipes". The blocks were actually empty towelette tubs. Some marketing genius had thought of modifying the containers so that they could be interlocked together and stacked like giant Lego blocks.

While the idea of storing the empty containers wouldn't appeal to every mother who bought baby wipes, the idea was a natural sell for volume users like Daycare centers. Still, many women who bought them found uses for them as storage boxes for spools of thread or had them stolen by their husbands as "hell" boxes for their workshops. For use as baby toys, the boxes were perfect; they came in the colors of autumn mint green, Pacific navy blue, light strawberry pink, brilliant canary yellow, light leaf green, pale tangerine orange and baby powder blue. The boxes were too large to put in their mouths (eliminating the choking hazard) and their light weight made them easy to handle by any infant who was old enough to sit up by himself.

The blocks could be used in other areas of the Daycare as well. Building blocks are appropriate toys for children up to the age of six, so the detrius from the nursery could be used to provide free toys for the entire Daycare center. Once the label on the side was removed, the empty containers were converted from trash to toys without the majority of the Daycare's patrons being the wiser. If anyone noticed what they were, the Daycare workers would point out that they were being ecologically conscientious and had only recycled the containers for another use.

Of course, the Daycare center's exclusive use of disposable diapers was never mentioned. Ninety percent of their patrons used disposables on a daily basis with their babies and it would have been committing fiscal suicide to tell the mothers that they were polluting the Earth. Had the parents demanded that the Daycare's nursery use cloth diapers, the Daycare would have been happy to oblige. In the long run, cloth diapers that are cleaned and disinfected by a diaper service are cheaper than disposables. The Daycare would have had to have a high pressure, diaper rinse sink/toilet installed for rinsing the diapers before putting them in a barrel for soiled diapers, but the cost would have been amortized early in the first year. After that, the Daycare center's costs would have gone down as each patron contributed to the diaper service costs for the Daycare. The only problem was convincing their patrons to pay for their share of diapers rather than use the disposables that they brought in their babies' diaper bags. Instead, the Daycare bowed to the customer's convenience and accepted the world as it was. The Daycare was happy to diaper their patron's babies if the parents provided the diapers even though it cost them a bit more to have more trash picked up each day by their commercial garbage collection service. That cost, plus the hidden cost of providing extra disposable diapers when needed would have made them pleased to offer cloth diapers. Unfortunately for the Daycare center's bottom line, there was at least one parent each day who inevitably failed to provide enough diapers for her baby. For these children, the Daycare had to provide diapers out of its own budget to care for the child's care.

If questioned about the origin of the building blocks, the attendants would point out that since the original contents were meant for babies' bottoms, there was no toxic residue to poison a child. The tightly fitting lids made them useful for storing small objects like crayons for the older children as well. How could a mother object? Especially since the mother who recognized the container for what it was, was likely to save and use them herself. Andrew was so amused by the originality of the marketing concept that it occupied his thinking while Jimmy drooled and mouthed the boxes around him until it was time for his nap.

After his morning nap, Jimmy woke to find that the other babies had awoken before him and were active. He fussed a bit in his crib and was carried over to join his infantine colleagues on the floor after his diaper change. A pacifier was provided for him to suck on while he played with the stuffed animals and made the acquaintance of his diapered compatriots. Jimmy, like the others in the nursery, was really too young to share or play with others. The best that could be expected of him and his playmates was that they share the same space without getting upset with each other. And that they did.

Every infant went his or her own way, taking up toys and dropping them before moving on to some newly discovered infantine excitement. Jimmy had a grand time, tasting/mouthing the toys in front of him, cuddling the soft plush toys scattered about the floor and peeing with abandon as the need struck him. All the other infants in the nursery were engaged in approximately the same activities: They babbled delightedly at beams of sunshine that streamed in through the East window and tried to capture them in their hands. When the workers walked by, they cooed in appreciation in the hope that they would be picked up and held. If the other diversions didn't capture their attention, they crept on all fours about the room exploring their world for new pleasures. When all else failed, they sat and sucked their thumbs or pacifiers in perfect contentment. Theirs was a simple, happy world without complications or worries. If a worry arose, such as the absence of their mothers, they quickly forgot their anxieties and worked hard at playing. When the workers decided the schedule called for a "quiet time", they stopped and listened silently while sucking their thumbs serenely as the sound system played Brahms or Chopin to relax them before lunch.

When the time for lunch came, the workers gathered each infant in turn and fed them from the jars provided by their mothers. If no solid food had been packed in that particular baby's diaper bag, then the baby was given the bottle of formula that the Daycare required for the lunch of its youngest charges. Lunch was a relaxed affair with the babies eating and nursing as their mother's provided. Interspersed with the babies' lunches, individual workers took time to heat soup in the Daycare's microwave oven or the unwrap the sandwiches that they had brought to work and eat their own lunches. As each baby was fed, played and eliminated in their diapers, they were winded, changed and put in their cribs for naps. Afternoons at the Daycare moved slowly and with considered deliberation, to no one's discontent.

After lunch, everyone was sleepy, including the Daycare workers. They tucked each infant in his or her crib and made them comfortable while the melodious strains of lullabies from the Daycare's sound system filled the room on que. Within minutes, the nursery echoed softly with the barely discernable snores of somnolent thumb-sucking infants. Two of the attendants took naps themselves in the large rocking chairs positioned at opposite sides of the room while the other two workers stood watch. After thirty minutes or so, the sleeping attendants were awoken and took up watch over the babies while the other two workers took their places in the rocking chairs to take their own naps. After two o'clock, the babies began to waken and the nursery took on life again. Diapers were changed, hungry infants were given bottles and changed again shortly thereafter. The sound system played light, bouncy Disney-style music as the infants renewed their round of play, pee and poop.

Andrew's sense of embarrassment was dulled by the slowness and monotony that the afternoon brought. If any of the workers had pointed out his wet or messy diapers as a special case, he'd have been mortified. As it was, he was just another infant to be processed in the time-honored tradition of women; he was cleaned up, then put in dry diapers and allowed to rejoin his drooling comrades to creep on the carpet. They played in each other's presence without a hint rancor for an hour, barely acknowledging each other's existence before the afternoon bottles were brought out to be suckled and a new round of diaper changing began before the next nap. The lassitude of inaction had lulled everyone's minds into a trance-like condition of non-thought. The lids of Andrew's eyes were pulled closed by the first strains of the , he cringed and hid his head in the hollow of between her neck and shoulder. She told Krystyn that they had discovered that his programming had not been complete and the workers had subjected him to the full routine which Krystyn had ordered for all of her babies. Krystyn laughed when Gail told him of how he had been caught when he refused the spit-covered teething ring and how nauseated he had looked when the ring was forced into his mouth over his protestations. She continued her story by telling Kystyn how he had leered at her breasts and gave Krystyn a synopsis of the fantasy night she had proposed for little Jimmy and his consequent shame-faced countenance. Krystyn chuckled in delight at the tale while Andrew buried his burning cheeks even deeper into the nape of her neck in embarrassment. When Gail told her that from the attendants' unobtrusive observations of him during his stay in the nursery, Jimmy had seemed to accept his fate even though he still had an adult mentality. Gail told Krystyn that towards the end of the day he had behaved as if he had given up all pretence of thinking like an adult and had started behaving like the other infants in the Daycare's nursery.

"Soooo," Krystyn said down to Andrew with a derisive tone, "Little Jimmy was faking after all! I should have known. All men are liars at heart. Well…from the sound of it, you've learned your lesson here. Just wait until you see the babysitter I have lined up for you! Once she gets finished with you, your psyche will be as differentiated and interesting as the overboiled homeopathic pap the Daycare feeds its babies for breakfast." She rapped him lightly on his forehead with the second joint of her knuckled index finger to make her point as she chuckled, "Instead of having the semi-educated, sophomoric brain of a college student, your noggin will be filled with bland creamed oatmeal as befits a baby."

Krystyn laughed again and said patronizingly as she patted the top of his head with head with four fingers of her hand, "Your days of being able to think like an adult are almost over, little Jimmy. Once my special babysitter gets done with you, the only thought in your precious little head will be for your ba-ba! I doubt you'll even know when you've wet or dirtied your diapers!"

Gail chuckled at the thought and smiled as she watched Krystyn carry Jimmy out to the minivan. Krystyn certainly had a way with words. Gail imagined that even if she hadn't been a witch, Krystyn could have reduced an adult male to psychological infancy with the power of her words alone. The mental image of Krystyn upbraiding a full grown adult man until he wet and messed himself as he tried to gurgle inarticulate apologies for his infantile behavior made Gail smile as she walked back into the nursery. She decided that one day she should try to convince Krystyn to do exactly that to a boyfriend or husband of one of her co-workers just so she could be there and watch the fun. Gail hated men and all they stood for. As far as she was concerned, Krystyn had the right idea. Men should all be reduced to the stature and status of infants that they psychologically truly were. Once men had been rendered intellectually and emotionally powerless, they would become doll-like playthings for women to dress up and control as was only proper.

The utter helplessness of her husband Eddie during her first marriage had soured her on men in general. His mother had been an absolute failure when it came to civilizing her son. He hadn't even known how to bathe himself properly, much less put down the seat on the toilet. On their wedding night, they had had a flat tire and he been completely baffled by the simple procedure of changing a car's tire even though she tried to give him instructions on how to proceed. Gail had changed the tire herself, ruining her pristine white wedding dress in the process. He had proved himself helpless in other ways too; when she got him in the bedroom on their wedding night, she discovered that he was a virgin and had no idea of how to make love to a woman. On the second day of her marriage, she realized that she had married a virtual child. If she left him alone, he would starve because he had no idea about how to make a meal for himself. He could no more take care of himself than a Kindergartner could. As a driver, he was dangerous, he never thought ahead and got into the proper lane, but switched at the last minute when he saw the sign that indicated it was forbidden to change lanes. He didn't know how to put oil in his car or fill the gas tank. He always went to full service stations and put everything on his gasoline charge card.

He couldn't even operate a microwave oven, for God's Sake! His personal habits were atrocious; he never wiped himself properly after going to the bathroom or flushed the toilet unless she reminded him. He couldn't tie his own tie or keep track of the money in his bank account. Bills went unpaid until the utilities threatened to turn them off. In desperation, Gail had taken over all the finances and made him give her his paycheck every payday. Gail put him on a small allowance and got their finances straight in six months. She thought that five dollars a week was an appropriate amount of money for a man who behaved like a four-year-old. In order to reduce their expenses, she took away his car and drove it herself. He pouted for the first six weeks, but he finally accepted the situation passively.

Gail added or changed the car's oil as necessary and pumped the gas herself at the lower-priced self-serve gas stations to save money. Every day she would shake the sleepy-eyed man awake, get him up from bed, send him to the shower and help dry him off before dressing him. Then she would feed him breakfast before she took him to work. When they arrived each day at his place of work, she would comb his hair a final time before she put his brown lunch bag in hand like a little boy being brought to school by his mother. In the evenings, she would pick him up and take him home to eat a hot home-cooked meal after she had undressed him and put him in a robe until was time to go to sleep.

Although they had sex, it was never up to Gail's expectations; he was inordinately attracted to her large breasts and spent more time on suckling them than on any other form of foreplay. Although Gail didn't believe in the old saw about size making a difference in making love, the miniscule size of his testes and penis made sex difficult at best. Since he was barely three inches long at full erection and proportionally as thin, when he did manage to enter her it felt like she was making love to a thirteen year old boy. When he did get down to business, he nearly always ejaculated prematurely after two or three minutes just as an sexually overdriven and underequipped adolescent might do.

Since he absolutely refused to perform cunnilingus, Gail was forced to use a vibrator each time they made love to relieve her sexual tensions. Fortunately for Gail, she grew to like having her nipples sucked and would stroke his immature husband's hair as he pleasured her in the only way he really could. Oftentimes, Gail would wonder what it would be like to have a real baby at her breast instead of her dependant childish husband. They tried to have a child together but were unsuccessful in their attempts. After the first year, she insisted that they go to a fertility clinic where the cause of their inability to have a baby was diagnosed. Her husband was infertile. She tried to talk him into a sperm implant but failed to convince him that they should have a baby by artificial means.

Gail suspected that he didn't want a baby that would compete with her attentions and that he really wanted her to continue being his "mother" in lieu of his own. She was depressed by his refusal to accept her solution, but accepted a situation she couldn't change. Gail spent next the two years of their aborted marriage caring for a man who was little better than a helpless Kindergartner. Frankly, the longer she lived with him, the more she thought she was caring for a superannuated three or four year old rather than an oversized Kindergartner. For one thing, his lack of bodily self-control was less than that of her friends five-year-olds. His clumsiness was unbelievable! Even though he didn't drink alcoholic beverages, he stumbled around as if was either half drunk or he had just mastered the art of walking.

His manual dexterity was atrocious; he could barely handle a glass of milk without spilling it. He was such a klutz that she made him eat dinner with a beach towel pinned around his neck for a bib while seated in the kitchen. She didn't dare let him eat on the couch in front of the TV; she would have never gotten the stains out of the upholstery or carpet. He made such a mess when he ate that she bought a thick square of clear vinyl plastic to lay under his dinner chair like baby's feeding mat to make cleaning the kitchen floor easier after he finished his meals.

She didn't dare ask him to help with the dishwashing or he would have dropped every dish in the house within the space of a week. She was also appalled at his lack of bowel and bladder control. A Kindergartner could stay dry all day long with fewer accidents per week than he had. He didn't have problems with his bladder just during the day either, he had even more "accidents" while he slept at night. The back of his underwear was nearly always stained and more than once he wet himself at the end of the day in the car as well as during the night. Tests at the doctors had proven that he didn't suffer from any treatable disease. He was merely physically and emotionally immature to the extreme.

More than once, she thought of putting him in diapers each night after he got home to cut down on the soiled underwear. Unfortunately, that resolution would have forced her to wash her husband's dirty diapers every day and would have raised their laundry costs. They couldn't afford the extra detergent and borax to presoak and wash thick adult diapers nor could they afford the expense of putting him in adult cloth diapers on his miniscule salary. When she called a hospital supply company to inquire the price of cloth diapers were that would fit her husband, she discovered that adult diapers were horribly expensive. She had looked at the packages of adult briefs at the grocery store and had decided that disposables were simply out of the question. His income couldn't support the cost of putting him in disposable diapers every night. She sighed heavily at the time and went on washing his dirty laundry. The best she could do was to put a towel under him while he slept and have a plastic mattress protector on the bed. After washing almost half a thousand pairs of brown-streaked underwear and wet towels, she had called it quits in the second year and divorced him.

Gail had gravitated to her female friends and had found solace in Becky's Coven. She soon discovered that she'd rather sleep with an intelligent, caring mature woman rather than an infantile, dependant man and had abandoned the search for a husband entirely. Strangely, the maternal instinct that had carried her through the years of her marriage began manifesting itself as the desire to have a child of her own reared its head. Becky had suggested that she take a supervisory position in the Daycare Center that was owned by a friend of hers and she had worked there ever since. Taking care of the babies had proved an adequate substitute for bearing a baby and Gail was happy. While the money wasn't great, the opportunity to humiliate Krystyn's charges and her witch co-worker's male paramours gave her a great deal of personal satisfaction. She envisioned each adult male that had been enchanted as her ex-husband and lavished the humiliation and condescension on each and every one of them that she wished upon her ex-husband. In her mind's eye, she was giving the proxies for her ex-husband the well deserved treatment that she'd have given him had she been blessed with the opportunity to get him totally under her power in the Daycare's nursery. She loved showing the changed men what little babies they really were.

Krystyn took Andrew home and remanded him to the safety of his dark nursery. After his traumatic experiences during his first day in the Daycare Center, Andrew was almost pleased to find himself securely pent-in behind the high-railed crib of the nursery. The towering railings had become not an obstacle to be overcome and escaped, but tall protective grating of a comfortable heavy wooden redoubt where he could repose in relaxation and shut out the world in the serene slumber of an infant. The nursery which had been so initially foreboding had finally become a place of refuge against a huge and hostile world.

Andrew clutched the soft, fluffy blankie with his tiny, fat fingers and drew it up to his chest protectively while he sucked on the orthodontic pacifier that Krystyn had stuck in his mouth as she tucked him in his crib. After a few minutes, the relaxing rhythmic motion of his tongue and cheeks gave him an oral feeling of reassurance that everything would be alright. As his eyelids drooped down for the night as he began to drift off to sleep, he tried to lift his sagging spirits and encourage himself by thinking, "Tomorrow will be a better day".

The next day went pretty much the same as all other days at Krystyn's house: Andrew's diaper was changed and the was allowed to creep on the floor on all fours at Krysyn's feet most of the day. Every time he tried to stand or walk, he was sharply scolded about trying to be more than the infant he was while his little diaper padded bottom was paddled repeatedly with the palm of Krystyn's hand. Once she had reduced him to humiliated tears, she pushed him down to the floor with all of her adult strength to physically force him down to all fours on the carpet at her feet.The first time it happened, he cried loudly, but after that he merely whimpered and accepted his punishment. After two more paddlings by Krystyn, he ceased trying to walk and creeped on his hands and knees as she desired. After his experience at the Daycare Center, Andrew's will had been almost completely broken. He sucked on his toys like any infant and seemed to enjoy being fed baby food and nursing on his bottle. Krystyn was pleased that Andrew had become so infantile in such a short time...

Amber's peculiar babysitting proclivities suited Krystyn perfectly. Amber was the epitome of the voluptuous, big-boobed, "Valley-girl"-type dumb blonde with a decidedly twisted taste for cock-teasing and making her numerous boyfriends quiver in expectation of a carnal delight she never gave away. It wasn't that she was sexually fastidious or moral, she just wanted to maintain the upper hand in the relationship. Since she had the brains of an out-of-season California radish, she had to make do with the resources she had at hand. For that reason, she took care of herself and made herself as attractive as possible without the use of makeup or sexy clothing. She knew instinctively that if she dressed up in sexy clothing or used excessive makeup, her false appearance would be belied by her ineffective intellect and she would seem like a prostitute. Being a pure and natural woman was her best choice given her lack of intellectual resources. Sooner or later, a man rich and powerful enough to deserve the use of her body would turn up. She was saving herself for the day when she would fuck a man so silly that he'd turn the wealth of a financial empire over to her as he knelt at her feet.

Amber had long ago decided to hire financial managers and bankers to multiply the money when it came, knowing that she had no interest in the dreary business of making money. In the meantime, she amused herself with perfecting her techniques in the management of testosterone-driven males. Long before, she had decided that was her true calling in life was changing males' dirty diapers (both figuratively and literately), controlling their excesses and making them happy that she had taken control of their lives. Let the men build empires, she would find the strongest and rule his puny penis with the power of her sex. Until that day came, she would forego the pleasures of being clumsily bedded by pimply-faced teenagers to assuage their carnal urges. She could handle her unsophisticated classmates by unzipping their pants and skillfully exposing their hardened manhoods. A few minutes of flicking their members with the tip of her tongue had them in sexual ecstasy. Often that and a simple squeeze of their balls was all it took to make them ejaculate. If that didn't work, she would begin to perform the most skillful fellicio that Krystyn had ever seen. Within minutes, she would have the teenaged boy spurting incontinently all over himself. Then she'd take one of the baby's diapers and wipe down the front of his trousers. Krystyn loved the embarrassed look on the insecure boy's faces when she compared their lack of control to her little charge who was always watching Amber's performance from the sidelines of the playpen.

Krystyn grinned as she recalled the tapes of the boys Amber had had in the family room while she was babysitting. Each time, her subtle seduction of her newest unthinking boytoy was nearly the same, but their looks of horror as Amber compared their messes on their trousers to the wet diaper of the baby in the who looked on from the playpen was slightly different every time. Aside from her lack of intellect and inability to study, Krystyn did note a fatal flaw in Amber's sexuality. She obviously enjoyed it when one of her toys copped a feel on her breasts while she was going down on them. While Krystyn knew that being felt up was harmless in and of itself, she knew that it would lead to disaster for Amber's plans later on. After she was finished sating her boyfriends, she would shoo them out of the house and take the baby up to the nursery for a diaper change. Since the majority of Amber's babysitting jobs involved babies with adult brains and infant bodies, their infantile bodies frequently became confused and they usually wet and/or messed themselves in lieu of ejaculation while they watched Amber cavort on the couch with her current boyfriend. As a rule, the adult-minded infants began to weep the minute they perceived what they had done in front of company. Knowing that babies were used to wet diapers, Amber would ignore them when they wept silently or get up or stick a pacifier in their mouths if they became too loud for her to concentrate on pleasuring her boyfriend. Once she had gotten rid of her boyfriend, she would take the little one up to the nursery to have his diaper changed. It wasn't that she didn't care for her little charges, it was just that the teenaged babies she played with were far more dangerous if ignored. Other than that, she took her babysitting duties very seriously indeed.

Once she took them to the nursery to clean their dirty bottoms and had them safety ensconced in a fresh disposable diaper, Amber would treat them to a long suckling session on the rocking chair while she fingered herself to orgasm. In Amber's defense, she couldn't help herself; her raging teenaged hormones gave her a powerful sex drive that it took all of her will and intelligence to master. It was to her credit that she would not sleep with her classmates at school. Her sexual frustration gave her a slightly bitchy quirk of teasing her male classmates. Once she was in the privacy of the nursery with a little one, she tended to let herself go. She knew that the little ones she cared for would have no idea of how she felt or what their suckling did to her libido. She also knew as a sage babysitter that her response, although stronger than most, was normal for women. Her erectile nipples only made it easier for the infants to suckle.

What Amber wasn't aware of was the quasi-infantile state of her charges. Unbeknownst to Amber, the transmogrified men she babysat for Krystyn still retained a part of their adult sexuality in most cases. The psychological impact of dry-nursing Amber's ample breasts amidst the overpowering rutting smell of a horny woman made most of her charges devolve into complete infancy by the end of the suckling session. If the first babysitting job didn't do the trick, then Krystyn would hire Amber for a second session. Not a single male had ever remained unchanged after a second evening with Amber. The psychological power of Amber's pheromones were absolutely phenomenal! Each time Krystyn had her babysit a new charge, she would take the resulting tape of her activities to a Coven meeting for the general entertainment of the members. Everyone laughed uproariously as the men rediscovered their true selves and allowed the infant side of their personalities to pull them back into permanent babyhood. There was not a member of the Coven who didn't understand the consequences to Amber's Kismet for her desires and behavior. They had looked into Amber's future and had seen the exact nature of the doom that awaited her. Since she wasn't a member of the Coven, it made no difference to them. Everyone met their own fate at the allotted time. Amber was no different from the men that Krystyn changed into infants. Although she cared for her charges deeply, she was too great a dullard to be initiated into the ranks of the those who knew and acted according to their own "enlightened will".

If Amber had had a bit less interested in men and had had more intelligence than the average garden vegetable, Krystyn would have seen that she would have been made a member of the Coven. As it was, she was only a tool for a member of the group. One day soon she would discover a man who knew how to manipulate her breasts properly while feigning helplessness and it would all be over. She would spread her legs to him and nine months later she would find a baby of her own to simulate her several times a day. Her dreams of wealth and power would be forgotten in the pile of filthy diapers and dirty male underwear that she would spend hours each day washing.

The prediction wasn't an opinion on Krystyn's part; she had asked the Coven for a ruling on Amber's probable fate and the Tarot cards had been eloquent in their description of Amber's fall from sexual power. Despite her dreams for riches, she would soon fall to the wiles of one of her boyfriends and become a harried housefrau with a wet-bottomed baby on her hip as she made steak and potatoes for dinner for her unappreciative macho husband every night. Within ten years she would become a bedraggled-haired housewife with an enormous butt, a prematurely-lined face that was framed in fat from eating chocolates all day long while watching the soaps on TV in an attempt to fill the emptiness and lovelessness of her life. Her teats would sag like empty sacks from the stress of nursing each of the first two of her three children she until they were the age of three. The oafish, male-chauvinist mechanic who was to be her husband would lose interest in her by the time their second child had been weaned and her looks succumbed to age. He would begin stepping out on her on a regular basis, leaving her alone in her despondency and sexual isolation.

In desperation for love and physical contact with another human, Amber would allow her last child to secretly breast feed at her teats on a daily basis until she was forced to relinquish total control and had to send him Kindergarten at age five. Once her last child became weaned from her teat, she lost her last sexual stimulation other than masturbation. The baby of the family would continue to wet his bed at night until he was eleven-years-old. At the age of six, his father would put his foot down and mandate that little Jeffrey sleep in cloth diapers and plastic pants every night until he was properly potty trained. Although both her son and Amber would object to the use of cloth diapers, her husband would remain firm in his decision. He would tell Amber that as the boy's mother it had been her job to make sure his son was properly potty trained and that he had no intention of spending money for disposables until his sissy son was of the age of majority and could get a job to buy his own disposable diapers. If his son wanted to spend every night in wet diapers, it was fine with him! As his mother and the person responsible for his son's social and personal failings, Amber would have to make sure he was appropriately attired in cloth diapers and plastic pants each day when he came home from school.

Amber would spend the next five years washing her baby boy's flannelette diapers and plastic pants every day and diapering him each night when he came home from school and before he went to sleep. His older brothers would make fun of him and would buy him baby toys for his birthdays and Christmas with their father's approbation and approval. When he became ten, his father descended to the incredible depth of cruelty by telling his son that he was nothing but a babyish girl. Then he forced his wife to dress his son in frilly pink-laced plastic panties and short, ruffled ''baby-doll" nighties over his diapers before his son went to bed each evening. His father's gruff justification for his son's feminization to Amber was that he expected the experience to make his son to rebel and become a real "man".

The effect on Amber's youngest boy's personality would be devastating; he would become shy and withdrawn and would eschew the company of his classmates least they discover his terrible secret. The stress of seeing her baby boy so unhappy would gray Amber's hair prematurely and chisel deep care lines in her face. As her looks declined, so would her opinion of herself and she would spiral into an acute depression from which she would never recover. Once Amber's allotment of Karma in her current life had been expiated and her Kismet fulfilled, she would die from a deliberate overdose of Valium and Vodka before her "baby" graduated High School.

Amber's worn-out physical husk would be buried in a cheap pine box in a small, poorly-tended, weed -choked cemetery. The ceremony would be attended only by the time-worn, grey-haired gravedigger and two members of her family. The scruffy old cemetery worker attended her funeral in the only clothes he had; tattered castoff clothes from the charity bin of a skid-row mission where he caged his evening meals. The only item of value on his person was a rather obvious half-empty pint of cheap whiskey crammed into his back pocket. The only two attending members of her family consisted of her alcoholic, philandering husband and youngest son who had recently discovered that he preferred the sexual company of the gay intellectuals in the school's Thespian club rather than the manipulative girls he knew at school. From the sour expression on the gravedigger's face, he wanted the bereaved to say their last goodbyes as quickly as possible so he could fill in the grave and have a quick snort before hurrying over to the mission in time for a free dinner.

Unfortunately for Amber's son, his horrendous traumatic experiences with his father had frozen his emotional age at puberty and made him enjoy the emotional "rush" of being unmanned, sexually abused and dictated to by older men. He would go from lover to lover, seeking the solace of the loving and understanding father he had never known. If it pleased them, he was happy to put on makeup and dress in the most feminine lingerie and dresses for their pleasure before they flipped him over on his tummy and had their way with his body.

In a few years, her son would be dead at the hands of a serial killer who frequented gay bars and had a taste for effeminate young men who liked to be dominated. Over one hundred gay friends would attend her son's funeral. Although he would be a poor salesclerk in a men's clothing shop when he died, his friends would take up a collection for him at the gay bars he frequented and would see that he had a good sendoff to his heavenly reward. His ever-pleasant attitude and concern for others would be missed by his gay comrades. Her husband would follow him into the grave shortly after contracting an acute and fatal case of alcoholic cirrhosis. At the express wish of the man's surviving sons there was no funeral ceremony for their father. No one would attend his death except the mortician that prepared his body for cremation and disposal. At the time of their father's demise, the two oldest boys hadn't spoken to their father for years and "want nothing to do with the drunken authoritarian bastard", as his eldest son put it to the mortician, "even in death". He was cremated and his ashes disposed of along with the office trash of the crematorium per his sons' express directive.

Andrew spent his day in the nursery variously bottle feeding, messing in his diapers and napping as his schedule and needs demanded. Andrew was taken from the nursery to spend a bit of time in the playpen at four o'clock when the doorbell rang. It was Amber, Krystyn's babysitter of choice.

Krystyn ushered her into the family room and accompanied her over to the playpen to introduce her to little Jimmy. Jimmy was crouched on all fours with spit running down his chin and wearing nothing but a disposable diaper. Baby Jimmy looked up at the comely teenaged girl and gazed in a fit of infantile enchantment. Slobber rolled down his chin and pooled between his hands as the baby looked up at Amber's face in wonder. Had Andrew been controlling his body instead of his infantine subconscious, he would have drooled in lust instead of his lack of muscular control; Amber was a knockout in her tight-fitting blue jeans. Their well-designed seams criss-crossing the curve of her hips were semi-hidden in the areas of side pockets to make them snuggly hug her shapely derrière. The light and dark blue striped tank-top that she wore over her bra-less breasts exposed the skin of her slim waist as well as her perfectly formed belly button. She was the epitome of a college boy's wet dream. Amber exuded an aura of feminine innocence and caring that made her irresistible to males of all ages. She was eighteen-years-old with long blonde hair that curled lusciously around her shoulders to frame the face of an earth-bound angel with sea blue eyes. Although her "D" cup sized breasts could not have been said to have made her "overly" endowed, they were still large enough to attract Andrew's prurient interest. The tight-fitting tank-top she wore over the bare skin of her busts gave her a deep cleavage that promised delights that Andrew had only dreamt of in his most private fantasies.

Evidently, Andrew's subconscious was as taken with her appearance as Andrew's adult mind was; as she approached the playpen, he cooed loudly in greeting and laboriously pulled himself up to stand at the side of the playpen to better observe the female presence who had entered the room. Amber had an almost magical ability to charm males whether they were still babes in diapers or the hulking captains of football teams. There was something about her presence that made males melt at the sight of her and drool both figuratively and literally in anticipation of being held or touched by her. She looked down over the railing of the mesh walled playpen and said in a low seductive voice, "Hello, Jimmy! It's so nice to meet you! Your Auntie is going out tonight so I'll be taking care of you until she gets home."

Jimmy's jaw fell open in awe at the sound of her voice as the tight waistline of his plastic-covered disposable diaper, having been stretched by an hour of crawling on all fours, slid halfway down his plump bottom in salute to her with a ceremonial lowering of his colors in tribute to her sublime presence. She was a dream come true.

Amber turned to Krystyn and said, "Just look at that enchanting smile on his angelic face!" Then she turned back to Jimmy and said, "You are a sweet little thing aren't you? I think you and I will get along perfectly, don't you? By the look of you, you're too young to even talk, aren't you? That's okay, Sweetie, Aunt Amber knows just what to do to make little babies like you happy and contented! You and I are going to enjoy each other's company tonight, aren't we?"

Jimmy made a gaaaa sound in response as if agreeing with her and she continued with an infectious nod that would compel instant assent from any male, young or old, who saw it and heard her honey-soaked words; "You're too tiny and adorable for me to call you Jimmy, so I'll just call you 'Jim-Jim'. Okay, Sweetheart?"

Krystyn glanced down at Jimmy, seeing him staring glassy-eyed off into space and thought to herself, "I wonder what that funny glazed look on Jimmy's face means?"

As the infant mind of Jimmy entered a temporary fugue state, Andrew's adult mind flooded back into his forebrain to reclaim his rightful kingdom. Andrew was momentarily stunned by the switch in control, but after a few seconds he regained stability. He gazed up at the two women discussing their plans for him that evening and cringed at the state of undress he was in before the sexy young woman. He glanced down at himself and saw that his disposable diaper had not been taped as tightly as it should have been; it sagged dangerously on his hips, threatening to fall down and expose his privates at any minute. Andrew thought that it was bad enough that he was forced to expose himself to the lovely teenaged girl wearing nothing but a diaper, but the idea of having it fall down and letting it "all hang out" was humiliating. He hitched at his diaper with one hand to pull it up, but the loose fit of the diaper at his waist only caused the other side to slip further down his hip on the other side. He realized that if he used both hands to hold his diaper up, it would draw attention to him, which was exactly what he was trying to avoid! Andrew gave up, knowing that he had been trapped into a lose-lose situation. He took his hand away from the diaper after pulling it straight across his tummy, having decided it was better to do nothing than aggravate the situation by drawing attention and making a spectacle of himself.

In response to his actions, Andrew's diaper slipped another inch, promising to become a full disrobement within moments. If it did, Amber would witness the traditional and instinctive salute that every heterosexual male of the human species made in the presence of true femininity. Unbeknownst to Andrew, his little penis had achieved its version of a near-full erection in honor of the pulchritude of the young woman who stood before him.

Amber noticed the slippage of the baby's diaper and without a word, she began to stoop over the side of the playpen to reposition his diaper. As she bent down, her breasts fell downward out of her half-bra to expose the full munificence of the bounty that they promised. Andrew sighed unconsciously at the sight before him, causing his belly to contract and his diaper to lose its tenuous grip on his tummy. Gravity snatched the diaper from his behind, causing the white banner of infancy to drop to half-mast in surrender to her charms as the disposable diaper settled around his knees. As if to complete the quasi-military courtesy to her womanhood, the tiny bow chaser between his legs brought itself to a position of full, non-threatening elevation. She smiled at his adorable miniature erection as she lifted him from the playpen and knelt down on the floor at his feet with his body draped supine and lengthwise on the carpet before her. Amber unfastened the tapes on the disposable and pulled the front of the diaper down so she could reposition his little bottom on the diaper before refastening it more tightly. Jimmy's face blushed in embarrassment as she pulled his feet apart to allow the diaper to pass between his thighs. Before she had taken him out of the playpen, just the top of his little pee-pee could be seen from above, but once she spread his legs, his privates were completely exposed to the beautiful stranger. Amber ignored his infant-sized erection and deftly picked up his ankles in one hand while she slide the diaper beneath him and reseated his behind on the diaper as she continued to talk. She had seen erections on both men and babes and was unimpressed by the best exhibitions of either. Andrew's small subconscious attempt to impress her with his physical prowess was so miniscule as to be beneath notice.

As Amber turned to Krystyn and inquired coyly, "Is he weaned yet? Or is he still on the bottle?"

Andrew dropped his gaze to the plastic mat of the playpen so he wouldn't have to meet the women's eyes with his own. His shame at his body's reaction to Amber's touch was consummate.

Krystyn grinned at the by-play with Jimmy and thought, "She's already started. It's really too bad his mind has already regressed into infancy. I could swear that he looks embarrassed by our discussion!"

Krystyn's face became serious again as she replied to Amber's question, "Oh, he can have a few tablespoons of solid food for dinner, but he's still on infant formula otherwise. You don't have to worry about feeding him anything but formula tonight if you don't want to. If you decide to feed him some baby food, there's a half-empty jar of Gerber puréed peas in the nursery refrigerator. You know where everything is and you have the number of my cell phone if there's any problem. Here's the numbers to reach me if I decide to visit a friend's house. The combination to the front door is at the bottom. Don't forget to unlock the door if you decide to go outside; the door is spring-loaded and you won't be able to get back in if you don't unlock it before you go out.

I've left a few diapers on the couch so you don't have to take him upstairs for a diaper change if he just wets himself. I won't be back until after twelve o'clock. There's a frozen pizza in the freezer for you and soft drinks in the refrigerator for your dinner. There's microwave popcorn and potato chips in the pantry in case you want to make yourself a snack. I bought a pint of onion dip for the potato chips and it's sitting on the top shelf of the refrigerator in front. You can't miss it. As for the diapers and baby things, everything is where it usually is. If you get bored, feel free to go through my video tape library in the cabinet by the TV to find a movie to watch. Jimmy's ostensible bedtime is seven o'clock, but if he's fretful he can stay up later if you can't get him to sleep." Krystyn chuckled and added, "It isn't as if he has to get up to go to school tomorrow!"

Andrew grimaced at Krystyn's remark about school. That had been the unkindest cut of all; the next day was scheduled to be his final exam in English. He should have been studying for the exam on the Sunday he went to visit her and had subsequently been entrapped into becoming an infant. If he had been attending his homework for school and had been studying the way he had originally intended that Sunday instead of impulsively gallivanting off to have coffee at Krystyn's house, this would have never happened.

Amber smiled at the thought of a little baby like Jimmy having to go to school and said to Krystyn, "Okay! If there are any problems I'll call you. You don't mind if one of my friends from school comes over to help me study for a test tomorrow in biology, do you? I promise I won't let him eat you out of house and home! Just the pizza you've left me, and maybe the popcorn and chips, okay?"

Krystyn smiled crookedly and replied, "Just for your personal information, the liquor cabinet has got a Yale six-pin tumbler lock on it and I've got the only key in my purse. The locksmith who installed it told me that it has mushroom shaped pins that make it almost impossible to pick."

The witch's journeyman grinned again at Amber's protests that they would never attempt to break into her liquor cabinet and said, "I was once your age too, remember? Don't take it personally. You're not the only babysitter I've had here. Some of them get into everything. I just wanted to make the ground rules clear. Now before I leave I need your friend's name and phone number just in case anything should happen. As the owner of the house, I'm responsible whether I'm here or not."

"Okay," agreed Amber brightly and scribbled her boyfriends name and phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Krystyn.

Krystyn's smile became warmer as she absently tucked the slip of paper in a pocket and said, "He's welcome to the soft drinks in the refrigerator and there's ice tea mix in the pantry. You can make coffee if you want. There's cream in the refrigerator. If he won't drink any of the things I've mentioned, then he can have water from the tap. Unless, of course, you want give him…."

"Give him what?", Amber asked, interested in what might be left.

Krystyn grinned wickedly and said, "The only other thing to drink in the house is baby formula. If he wants formula, than by all means give it to him! But I doubt he'd like that even if you did hold the bottle for him. Well,…That's everything! Give me a call if you have any problems! Bye!" She leaned down and said to Jimmy, "Bye-bye Jimmy! Can you wave bye-bye for Aunt Krystyn? No?"

Andrew gave her a pouting look and refused to honor her request. It was bad enough that she had turned his body into a baby, but he didn't have to behave like an infant to please anyone.

Krystyn gave Amber a sad look and said, "He's a bit slow if you know what I mean."

Andrew's mouth dropped open in shock at the blatant lie that Krystyn had told about him. There was nothing wrong with his mind! It was his body that she had changed! If he had been able to control the muscles of his larynx, he'd have defended himself verbally on the spot. As it was, all he could do was utter meaningless syllables and baby noises.

Krystyn shook her head in mock sorrow and said, "His poor mother! No wonder she put him up for private adoption! He's one of those 'special' babies that I specialize in handling, you know. The poor little thing has the same rare congenital condition that all the little boys have that I place with adoptive mothers. The disease makes it impossible for them to mature beyond infancy. I've made it my mission in life to find homes for little babies like him. Poor little Jimmy's mind stopped maturing the moment his body did. Most of the little ones with the same condition mature a little more than Jimmy did before he stopped growing. Remember little Alan? At first he seemed to have the mind of a two-year-old before he started slipping backwards into early infancy. The poor thing's little body couldn't support a two-year-old mind in a ten-month-old body and the course of his terrible condition made it inevitable that he'd regress back to his permanent physical age.

But he was a handful while it lasted, wasn't he? Remember how he got out of the crib and you called me in a panic because he was lost? I had just gotten down the street in my car when you called me on my cell phone. I turned the car around and came home immediately. I was driving up the street, only half a block away from the house when I saw him crawling down the street on all fours just as fast as his little hands and knees would take him. I stopped the car and grabbed him, then strapped him in the baby seat in the back of the car. When I got home, I found the front door wide open. Little Alan had somehow managed to unlock the front door and had gotten out of the house all by himself. After that I went out and bought the expensive heavy oak sleigh crib with sides so high that a four-year-old can't climb out of it when the rails are raised. The side rail locks are so complex and difficult to unlatch that even an adult couldn't unfasten the locks from the inside of the crib. Now when I put one of my babies in the nursery's crib, I'm sure that he'll never be able to escape like Alan did."

Amber looked down at the unhappy memory and said, "I'm so sorry that happened. I know I've apologized before, but I still feel badly about it. I spent the rest of the night sitting in front of the crib watching him to make sure he wouldn't get out again. When I think of what could have happened to little Alan, it makes me want to cry. I was surprised that you wanted to hire me as a babysitter after that!"

Krystyn nodded sagely and said in a mollifying tone, "It could have happened to anyone, Amber. It wasn't your fault. Some babies seem to have the knack for escaping their playpens and cribs. I never blamed you! You never expected Alan to climb out of his crib and crawl down the stairs before getting out the front door. Besides, I threw the deadbolt on the front door myself that night before I left so I know you didn't leave it open. How Alan got it open with his small stature, tiny hands and infant mind will always be a mystery to me. The pile of coats I found in the hall when I got home with him was at least ten feet from the door, so he couldn't have used them for a stepstool.

Well, that's all water under the bridge now. Since I had a carpenter put in a new nursery door with the handle and latch assembly mounted at chest height for an adult, a ten-year-old would have difficulty turning the doorknob and getting out. For added security, I had a button-combination dead bolt put on the front door instead of the single cylinder dead bolt that Alan opened. It opens normally with a key on the outside, but to open it from the inside you have to depress the right sequence of buttons and hold them down while turning the knob to draw back the bolt. The springs on the buttons are much too strong for a little baby's fingers to hold more than one of them down at the same time. Unless you know the correct combination AND have the finger strength of an adult, it's impossible to open that lock from the inside. Don't loose the phone number sheet I gave you, it's got the only copy of the combination to the front door in the house!"

Krystyn wasn't about to tell Amber that her hidden cameras had revealed the details of the whole incident on the video tapes that were running while she was gone. Amber had been sitting on the couch talking with one of her boyfriends on the phone when Alan had managed to pull down the coats on the hall hat rack and make a pile tall enough to reach the handle of the deadbolt. After that, he used his entire weight to flip the bolt back and twist the door handle open while pushing on the doorframe with one foot. Once he had the door open, he cleverly pushed the pile of coats over the slick flooring to leave no clue as to the means of his exit. If Krystyn hadn't had security cameras taping the entire episode, she truly would have never known how he did it. It was a remarkable performance for an adult mind occupying an infant's body. And thanks to Krystyn's upgraded security after Alan's aborted escape, it was never to be repeated.

Krystyn picked up her purse from the couch and blew Jimmy a kiss saying, "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted. From the way he's drooling over you, he's quite taken with you Amber."

Andrew looked down at his chest and realized that she was right. He was drooling! "Damn this baby body!", he thought to himself in frustration.

She chuckled merrily and continued in a gently mocking voice before blowing him a kiss from the hallway, "Now Jimmy, remember that Amber is a good girl and I wouldn't want her to get in trouble. Just because I'm leaving the two of you alone is no reason to think you have a right to get into her pants. I saw how you looked at her tiddies and I know what you're thinking. If she decides she has to get into YOUR pants for some reason, well, that's her privilege as your babysitter! Just lay back and enjoy it, little boy. If she decides that it's best to completely undress you and let you parade around for the night in the altogether, that's her business! You can't say a thing about it. As long as you're confined to your playpen where you can't make messes on the carpet, I don't care. Besides, you have nothing to be ashamed of; your little wee-wee isn't exactly something that would make a woman passionate with desire! Her little finger is twice as big as what passes for your manhood! About the only pleasure you can give a woman aside from watching your cute little tush as you toddle around the room with your thumb in your mouth would be sucking on her tiddies."

Andrew blushed furiously at her suggestions, hoping that she would leave soon before she said something that completely mortified him.

Amber laughed out loud at Krystyn's incongruous instructions to her little charge, the way Krystyn talked, you'd have thought that she was lecturing one of her classmates that had somehow been turned into a baby!

Andrew's cheeks were hot from embarrassment at the condescending tone of Krystyn's instructions to his "babysitter". Krystyn was right. There wasn't anything he could do with an infant's body to give a woman pleasure other than nurse at her teats. Even if he could control his body enough to do anything, the instincts of his infant body were working against him. Andrew's eyes glanced down at his feet idly, giving him a quick view of the knuckles of his right hand next to his face. "Oh Jesus!", he thought to himself, "I'm sucking my thumb in front of Amber!" "What next?", he asked himself as he continued to suck his thumb.

Krystyn smiled and said gravely, "He looks so sweet sitting there sucking his thumb. I hope his adoptive mother considers breast feeding him for a time. It would give the both of them so much pleasure! It's a terrible fate to be born and have to live your life as an eternal infant. Aside from peeing and pooping his diapers, he doesn't have many pleasures to look forward to in life. He'll never make love to a woman or read a good book. He won't even learn the pleasures of adult conversation. Maybe his new mother will take pity on him and let him nurse at her breasts for a few years before she gets tired of the bother and puts him on the bottle permanently."

She knew that Amber would be on the phone to invite one of her boyfriends over the minute she heard the deadbolt slam home. She wasn't worried about what Amber did in her absence. If she wanted to listen in on the house, all she had to do was dial her home phone and enter a sequence of numbers on the keypad of her cell phone. The phones in the nursery bathroom and family room had had an extra circuit added that allowed the transmitter on the speakerphone to be turned on remotely, even if the phone was on the hook. She could call and listen to the highly amplified sound from the speakerphone without anyone knowing that she was hearing everything that was going on. Even if Amber was using the phone to talk to her boyfriend, the call waiting feature of her phone made it possible to listen in on Amber and hear what was going on. Her security precautions had been complex and expensive, but it was cheaper than being hauled into court on kidnapping charges. Krystyn may have used an ancient arcane magick to transform men into infants, but she believed strongly in using the newest magic of technology to hold onto them until they were sold.

As Amber politely followed her to the doorway, Krystyn made a small detour in the living room to get a chocolate-covered cherry from the sterling silver box on the coffee table. She opened it up, withdrew a single chocolate and said to Amber as she took a tiny warded silver key from a small pocket in her black Moroccan leather zippered keycase and locked the container of chocolates, "Oh yes, DO try to keep out of my chocolate box! I know the exact count of the remaining chocolates because I have them hand-made for me in Belgium and keep a tally of every one I eat for for reordering purposes. If you become desperate for chocolate, there's a large bar of Hershey's Symphony Milk Chocolate in the pantry that you may have. These chocolates are off-limits, have I made myself clearly understood?"

"Yes mam!", Amber answered emphatically. She had no intention of getting between Krystyn and her favorite imported chocolates. She got the distinct impression that if she did, she herself would be the next thing Krystyn's jaws would be biting down on.

"Very good," Krystyn said, popping the chocolate in her mouth as she went to the front door. Amber closed the door behind her and heard her key in the lock throwing the deadbolt home. Amber could unlatch the lock so she wasn't worried. She returned to the family room to find Jim-Jim standing at the side of his playpen with his diaper drooping halfway to his knees. While the two women had left the room Andrew had attempted to stand up at the side of the playpen. What Andrew hadn't planned on was the propensity for infant boys to evacuate themselves in that position. The minute he had stood up, the previously semi-choked path of his urethra was clear and his bladder voided its full contents instantly. Within seconds, the heavy stream of urine made his diaper sopping wet and caused it to droop dangerously low on his hips.

Amber ignored Jim-Jim's obviously soggy diaper for the moment and picked up the phone in the family room the minute she heard Krystyn's car drive away. As an experienced babysitter, she knew that a few more minutes in a wet diaper wouldn't hurt him. Besides, from the silly grin on the baby's face, he was perfectly happy lolling in the warmth of his soaking diaper. She promised herself that the minute she got off the phone with her boyfriend, she'd get him changed into a clean diaper. Despite her taste for sexually teasing her male classmates, Amber was a conscientious babysitter. She loved taking care of babies and didn't mind at all changing dirty diapers. There was a purity to infants that brought out the maternal instinct in her that was missing in her boyfriends. Although her DNA driven instinct attracted her to the most virile men in her age group, she subconsciously wished she could find a male who both physically good looking and wealthy while at the same time requiring the mothering that she lavished on the infants that she babysat.

Once she got Brad, her current paramour, on the phone, she invited him over to keep her company at Krystyn's house while she was babysitting. Brad accepted immediately and asked for directions. She gave explicit directions to Krystyn's house and got off the phone as soon as humanly possible so she could change his diaper.

While Andrew sat in the playpen absentmindedly sucking his thumb as he listened to her chat with her new boyfriend, Jimmy's infant mind recovered from its fugue state and passively watched while Andrew maintained control of their join body. He had gotten over his enthrallment with his new caretaker somewhat and listened to Krystyn cooing on the phone to her boyfriend with interest. Although Jimmy didn't understand a word she said but the emotional import was clear enough for even an infant's mind. The warm, wet diaper that covered Andrew's bottom didn't disturb him at all; if anything it made him feel more comfortable. He didn't mind sitting in the slippery muck that slimed his bottom. The sensation of sliding around in his diaper whenever Andrew moved gave him a joyous, happy feeling. Andrew was disgusted by being made to sit in a mass of filth while his erstwhile babysitter made sophomoric small talk with her teenaged paramour. He wanted his diaper to be changed immediately! How could she sit there and talk with her boyfriend so nonchalantly when her charge needed care? Andrew was disgusted by the smell of the dirty diaper and wondered how she could put up with it.

Andrew had had enough! He was determined to make himself understood. He started to call to Amber and was dismayed to discover that he had unknowingly made himself unable to talk by putting his thumb in his mouth. Andrew ripped his thumb from his mouth in disgust and said in as loud a voice as his tiny larynx and lungs could muster, "In the name of God, help me, Amber! Get me out of here! I'm not a real baby! I'm older than you are! I'm a college student that Krystyn has cast a spell on! Please help me! If you can't help me, then at least change my diapers, they're wet and filthy!"

Andrew was so excited that he didn't listen to the words that came out of his mouth. If he had, his plea for succor would have died after the first few words. All that Amber heard was, "Nnnamgaaaa baammabaaa! Gimmou ooorr! Mmmn rrrrrbaba! Mmmolga nayouga! Mmakala stuuuda krstacasta spallon! Breess errbma! Iga errbma, mmmagga cha mmdabas, drayra atada lllday!"

Amber suddenly took notice of the messy infant at her feet and terminated the conversation with her boyfriend quickly after inviting him over to Krystyn's house. The stench had finally reached her nose and she knew that her little charge needed changing immediately. Amber was a bit surprised at the cadence of the infant's babble; for a just a moment, the emotionality of his utterances sounded as if he was really trying to communicate instead of jabbering meaningless sounds. Of course, the thought was completely ridiculous, she thought, everyone knew that infant's couldn't talk or communicate. Little Jimmy's noises had only sounded like attempts at speech because she had only been listening with half an ear while she was talking to her boyfriend. As an experienced babysitter, she knew that baby babble often sounded like adult speech if one were in another room or there was a another sound source like a TV present. The inadvertent crosstalk between sound sources was the reason that many women thought that their children's meaningless babblings were their children's first real attempts at intelligible speech.

Amber had long ago learned to ignore the apparent intelligence of a baby's jabber and paid no attention to their nonsensical speech no matter how much they sounded like they were trying to talk. After all, she had learned in home economics that babies were only mimicking adult sounds as they learned to speak. She found it a little odd that Krystyn's little ones always had the cadence and rhythm of adult speech, but Krystyn had explained to her carefully on her second babysitting assignment that her charge's speech peculiarities were a consequence of the rare disease from which they suffered. Since they had learned to speak a bit before their minds deteriorated and became permanently infantile again, their speech often retained some of the sound patterns they had acquired earlier. It was only infantine blather, she knew and she ignored it as any sensible adult would.

When she bent down to get him out of the playpen, Amber noticed that he had thoroughly messed himself. She shook her head in maternal reproval, saying, "Jim-Jim, Sweetheart, we have got to get you changed immediately! Your diaper positively reeks, did you know that? Come on, Stinkpot! Let's get you up to the nursery and get you changed before Brad gets here."

Amber seated him on her hip with one leg in front and the other behind her as she opened the sliding glass door on the patio while leaving the screen closed to air out the room while they were in the nursery. She turned on the overhead fan on high as they left the room to push the pervading reek out through the open patio door. Within minutes, the fetid smell had been forced from the house by the overhead ceiling fan in the family room, making the room livable again.

Amber laid him on the changing table in the nursery and pulled down the front of his diaper as she chuckled and said, "Pee-u! You are a little stinker aren't you?".

"I'm glad I got you up here before Brad arrived," she said with a giggle, "I don't mind babies' little stinkies, but I think Brad would find the smell of your diaper a definite turn off!"

She grasped his ankles with one hand and lifted his legs so she could use the relatively clean (but soggy) front of his diaper to wipe the worst of the mess from his bottom before she finished the job with a baby wipe. Andrew gazed up at his ankles being held firmly in the grip of her soft feminine hand as she kept his legs aloft. He took his hand and brought it close to his face for inspection; with a small start, he realized just how tiny his hand was in comparison to hers. He looked back at her hand once again and noticed that Amber's fingernails weren't painted although they were neatly trimmed and clean. His gaze drifted up to her face and he comprehended how simple and unpretentious her beauty was. She didn't use makeup and her face was clean and blemish free. Her long blonde hair was neatly brushed, giving her the appearance of radiant wholesomeness of someone who cared for her body, but was free of any vanity about her appearance. Andrew found her unadorned loveliness terribly attractive.

Once she had him clean, she lowered his legs and tickled him on his tummy while she rubbed his pubes with baby oil. Then she turned him oven on his belly so she could lubricate his behind with the sweet smelling oil. Andrew found her light touch on his crotch and bottom to be highly erotic. He felt his tiny penis become erect as it was forced against the plastic cover of the changing pad she pushed down to massage the oil into the baby soft skin of his bottom. With every gentle shove, Andrew's penis was rubbed against the clinging surface of the plastic pad, making him even more horny as she worked the oil lovingly into his skin.

When she was done, Amber turned him over again and grasped his ankles again in one hand as she took a diaper from the stack with her other hand. Andrew involuntarily chuckled in glee as she raised his legs again to slip the diaper beneath his bottom. Amber stretched out the wings of the diaper to insure a good fit and opened the tall bottle of Johnson and Johnson's baby powder that was stored behind the rear rail of the changing station on the dresser. Andrew glanced up at his penis and saw that it was fully erect. True, it was only an inch long at full extent, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was tumescent.

Once Andrew had realized how he had physically reacted to her ministrations, he was mortified. In addition to his aroused condition, he had giggled like a baby. He was acting like an infant! Andrew blushed bright red as she continued to change him. The worst of it was that there was nothing he could do about it. His tiny penis was useless for sex and he had lost any masculine attributes that might have attracted a woman to him. Andrew was struck by the thought that for the rest of his life, the only situation where his private parts would be touched and lovingly lubricated by a woman would be during diaper changes. Andrew almost began crying when he realized that his tiny erections would be the extent of his sexual activities until the day he died. What disheartened him the most was the realization that the only way he could inveigle the single women of the world to fondle and arouse him was to pee and poop in his diaper so they would be forced to change him.

Amber paid no attention to how red her charge's face had become while she changed him. Little boys often held their breath and made faces while they were changed. She thought nothing of the odd expression of embarrassment on his face. It was consistant with the tiny erection that her charge had gotten when she oiled him. Baby boys' little pee-pees often became erect when their diapers were changed. Although his expression was a little strange, she discounted it. According to what Krystyn had told her often before, strange expressions along with weird utterances were just another oddity of the disease that he suffered from. She dusted his crotch and abdomen lightly with powder, taking the time to massage the soothing corn starch into every crevasse of his skin.

When she had finished, she put the bottle back and opened the jar of vanilla-scented nursery vaseline and scooped a glob out with her fingertip before lifting his legs again and working it between the cheeks of his bottom. Even though she had oiled his behind, she wanted to make extra sure his poop wouldn't irritate his little bottom and give him diaper rash. Amber wiped the end of her finger on the rear padding of the clean diaper then pulled the front of the diaper up between Jimmy's legs and taped both sides down securely, making sure to smooth out the wrinkles on both sides so that little Jimmy's diaper would be comfortable. She rolled and bundled the dirty diaper up into a neat package and picked Jimmy up to hold him to her chest as she dropped the soiled diaper in the plastic pail with the other hand. The entire procedure had taken less than four minutes; Amber was a past master at changing diapers. She picked him up and saddled him on her right hip as she cupped his bottom in the full breadth of her right hand so she could carry him easily down the stairs and back to the family room.

As they prepared to go down the stairs, Andrew's nostrils were insinuated with the combined perfumes of the baby powder she had applied to his bottom, the strong powder fragrance of the disposable and the delicate touch of ultra-feminine cologne that Amber wore behind her ears. Krystyn stopped at the landing and quickly maneuvered him around her waist towards the front so that she could free up her right hand to grip the railing of the banister for safety. She held him securely to her bosom with her left hand underneath his diaper supporting his weight while allowing his head to rest on her shoulder as she carefully descended the steps to the first floor.

For a moment, Andrew's limited sensory abilities couldn't discriminate between the two scents. They had combined into a smell that was at the same time innocently sweet and clean as well as incredibly sexually alluring. Halfway down the stairs, he gradually found that that his nose's close proximity to the source of her perfume beneath her ears her as she hugged him to her chest allowed him to separate his own overpoweringly sweet aroma from Krystyn's subtly spicy and erotically enticing "eau de femme fatale". He had been in a Mall at Christmas shopping for a small gift for his next door neighbor six months before and a saleswoman at the perfume counter had allowed him to sample several scents intended for the feminine market; he was positive that the attractive scent that Krystyn was wearing was the same perfume he had chosen for his neighbor. He wasn't sure, but he vaguely remembered that the name of the fragrance had been called "Ici" by the saleswoman. The effect on his adult consciousness was mind-boggling.

Andrew's mind swum with the lightheadedness of male sexual arousal after his adult brain separated the intoxicating bouquet of her perfume from slightly sweet nursery fragrance of his diaper and baby powder. As she stepped down each stair, her tightly bound breasts jiggled against his naked chest, rubbing him with her nipples and making him want to moan in ecstasy from her the nearness of her exquisite body. Unfortunately, (Or perhaps fortunately, considering his unhappy inability to develop the relationship into anything other than babysitter and helpless tot.) his tiny infantile penis was disconnected from his encapsulated adult centers of arousal and it remained completely flaccid even though the warmth from her encompassing hand on his bottom and the sexual stimulation from being rubbed in his face with her nipples made his adult mind extremely horny. The sensation of being cuddled next to her abundant bosom while having his entire bottom being simultaneously contained within the palm of her hand was indescribable. His tiny fists clutched the edges of her blouse next to the buttons and kneaded themselves in unfulfilled desire as she descended the stair and walked from the first floor landing. When she returned to the family room, Amber tenderly disengaged his fingers from her blouse and gently sat him in the playpen while she got things ready for Brad's arrival. Brad only lived about twenty minutes from Krystyn's house and she wanted to have everything in place and ready for him when he arrived.

Amber went through the tapes that were stored in the converted armoire that stood beside the TV instead of wasting her time with the lock on the liquor cabinet. She didn't really want to give Brad any alcohol in any case. The last boyfriend she had plied with liquor had almost gotten out of control. The entire incident had left a bad taste in Amber's mouth and left her with dark memories about the usefulness of alcohol to control a man. Not that she had taken any for herself aside from the tiniest sip from her boyfriend's glass. Amber had managed before to steal some of Krystyn's hard liquor out of her cabinet and replace the small amounts she had taken out of each bottle with tap water. Somehow Krystyn had gotten wise to her and made sure she couldn't get into the cabinet again.

As far as Amber was concerned, it was just as well. She quickly found a movie and went to the pantry to find the microwave popcorn. Her mother had taught her at an early age that men were more easily handled if they had a full stomach. Brad was the captain of the school's football team and thought highly of himself. He also had a reputation for a sex drive that wouldn't quit. Amber knew that the only chance she had of controlling him was to divert him with snacks until his physical urges were somewhat sated with food. Then he would fall under her control in the usual fashion. As far as she was concerned, men were merely overgrown infants who had two things on their mind; food and sex. Once one of their urges was sated, the other became amenable to control. She used the same tactics on the babies she sat with; if they wanted to be held and she was busy, she gave them a their bottle. If they had already been fed, then a pacifier was in order. Amber didn't need to know that both sex and food raised serotonin levels in the brain and made males sleepy and amenable to her wiles. She only knew what had worked for her in the past and continued to use a technique that women had used successfully since the dawn of time.

Amber cooked the popcorn until the time between pops increased to over twenty seconds. Then she stopped the microwave and took it out of the oven before it began burning the kernels. She let the bag sit while she cut three tablespoons of butter from a stick of she found on the refrigerator door and put it in a coffee cup. She reset the microwave while she opened the bag and shook it out the bag into a large glass bowl she found in one of the kitchen cabinets. Amber salted the popcorn with a shaker of superfine ground popcorn salt she discovered in the pantry while the butter was melting in the microwave. When the microwave beeped, she dumped the popcorn in a large glass bowl and drenched the soft puffed grains with butter before tossing them with a fork from the tableware drawer. When she finished preparing the popcorn, she got out two glasses from the cabinet beside the sink and filled them with ice before putting them in the freezer to chill.

Just as she closed the freezer door on top of the refrigerator, the doorbell rang. She wiped her slightly buttery hands quickly on a dishtowel and went to answer the door, pushing her hair back over her shoulders as she walked. Usually she wore her long hair in a pony tail when babysitting, but the expectation of Brad's company had caused her to leave her hair long and flowing over her shoulders. Brad had said to several of his friends how beautiful he considered her long hair and she had no intention of disappointing him by pulling it up and away from his touch. Her girlfriends had dutifully reported his desires and the stage was set. While she had no intention of sleeping with the captain of the football team, neither did she intend to give him an excuse to complain to his friends. It was all a matter of timing; she had to get him comfortable and answer his immediate needs, much as she did the infants in her care, then get him out of the house before things got out-of-hand.

She greeted Brad at the door and ushered him to the family room while asking him what kind of soft drink he'd like. Brad said that he'd rather have a beer, but that if soft drinks were all she had, then a Coke would do. Brad remained in the family room while Amber went to the kitchen to fetch his drink.

As he waited impatiently for Amber's return Brad mused upon his plans for her. Once she was exposed to his personal charm and his money, Brad thought, she'd fall over herself for the opportunity to get in bed with him. He'd, of course, would be happy to accept her attentions at least until the end of the school year. After that she'd just become another picture in his scrapbook of conquests. Until that moment though, he planned to enjoy her company and body. "Amber is quite a number," he thought to himself, "She's stacked like a brick shithouse! She'll make a nice addition to my trophy book. I wonder if she'll forget her panties for a few minutes once I've laid her and gotten her so blind horny that I can snatch them? I'd sure as hell would love to have them as a souvenir to show the guys on the team. Hell, they would sure shut Fred's mouth up and win the bet for me besides. That stupid fucker bet me twenty-five bucks I couldn't lay Amber on the first date!

Once I go to work at Dad's business, I'll be making money of my own and won't have to depend on him for an allowance. With the kind of money I'll make as a VP in Dad's company, I'll be able to build my own bachelor pad and throw weekend parties like this one-horse town has never seen before."

Brad's and Amber's class were just about to graduate High School and he was planning to go into his father's business as his family expected. Brad had no interest in further study and wanted the opportunity to make money as soon as possible. His father's septic tank cleaning and utilities business wasn't terribly romantic but it had been lucrative enough to make his father one of the wealthier men in the county. His position as captain of the football team assured his graduation no matter how many times he failed tests in class; his graduation was all his father required for his induction into the higher ranks of his company. His father had told the college graduates who managed the accounting for the company that he had built the business himself without a college education, so why should he require more from his son?

The company's Chief CPA and VP of Operations were hesitant to tell the owner of the firm that since the company's humble inception as a simple septic tank cleaning business, it had had grown gradually over the years to a rather large company that handled all of the community gas and water utility needs. The Vice President of Finance and the Chief CPA of the company were trying to get the old man to consider public sales of stock so they could finance the takeover of the local electrical company. As it was, the company owned the municipal water and gas supply outright, dug private wells and provided propane gas for individuals in outlying areas that weren't covered by the municipal supply, and even had a subsidiary that handled retail sales of major appliances as well as providing air conditioning, heating, plumbing and electrical services for a three county area.

The VP in charge of Finance had pointed out that the electrical company was undervalued in the market and was ripe for the plucking. If they had a mere thirty million dollars to invest in the purchase of the majority of the company's stock, they could stage a hostile takeover and pick up the utility company for a song. The professionals tried their level best to convince his father to demand that his son get an education in the world of finance. His son didn't have the education to manage a firm single-handedly that had become the single largest player in the local utility market and he didn't have the maturity to let professionals do it for him. In the opinion of the company experts in management and finance, the company's plans for the future were doomed unless Brad could be made to understand that he wasn't ready to play with the big boys in the corporate utility world. Brad's allowance and privileges had increased both with his age and as his father's wealth had grown.

As a consequence, Brad had decided that it was his place in life to be given what he demanded without working for it. He had no memories of his infancy when his father was struggling to build his business. His appetite for toys had grown in pace with his father's financial ability to provide the wherewithal to fund his playthings. As far as Brad was concerned, his female classmates fell into the category of toys. Brad was nouveau riche and lacked the social responsibility of old wealth. Brad was a pig. In particular, he was a rich, male-chauvinist pig who suffered from a poverty of empathy for the people around him. Unfortunately, as a consequence of his social deficiency, everyone else in his immediate vicinity tended to suffer as well.

Brad threw himself onto the couch with a splendid disregard of the furniture's strain limits and sprawled out with his legs akimbo. As he rocked his shoes back and forth, blacking the carpet in front of him with the freshly dyed corners of his heels. Brad looked at the diapered baby crouched in the playpen before him and said with a lopsided grin, "Looks like you'll be able to see a real man in action tonight, kid! You should feel honored! I don't usually perform in front of audiences, but in your case, I think I'll make an exception. After all, it's not like you'll be able to tell anyone. When you see what I do to her tonight, I'll bet you shit in your pants!" Brad loosed a deep resonate chuckle and said mockingly, "It's a good thing you're wearing diapers, kid!"

Amber came into the room with Brad's drink and said, "From what I could hear from the kitchen, you've been making the acquaintance of the baby. That's so sweet of you to entertain him while I'm out of the room. He's an adorable little baby isn't he? I call him 'Jim-Jim'. If you could watch him a few minutes more, I'll bring out the popcorn I just made. I put a movie in the VCR to watch. The woman who I'm babysitting for doesn't have much of a selection of video tapes I'm afraid, but it will give us something to watch while we eat. I'm famished! How about you?"

"Yeah," he replied lazily, "I could go for some popcorn right now." He smirked evilly and went on, "If the movie is too stupid, we could sit here and talk instead. Maybe we could find something to play on the stereo system. Whoever the woman is who you babysit for, she's got a hell of an entertainment center!" Brad continued loudly, trying to impress Amber with his expensive possessions as she walked out of the room, "Hell, it's almost as good as what I have in my room at home!"

Brad looked at the framed photo of Krystyn on the wall and thought, "God Damn! She's a looker! Fuck! She's even better looking than Amber! I'll bet she's a fabulous fuck! I wonder if she's the woman who owns the house? I'll ask Amber if that's the woman she babysits for or if the house is rented. Christ, I'd like to get into that babe's pants! I'll have to remember to ask Amber whose picture that is before I leave."

Amber returned a minute later with a huge bowl of buttered popcorn and her soda. She set them down on the coffee table to the left of Brad's feet and primly sat down beside him. Brad grabbed the TV/VCR remote control from the coffee table and switched on the TV and tape in succession. As the opening scene developed, he saw that Amber had chosen the "The Witches of Eastwick" from Krystyn's video collection. Brad stifled a groan of anticipatory ennui as his hand dipped into the bowl of popcorn on Amber's lap and he snatched a huge handful of the buttery snack to force into his gapping maw. He had seen the movie before and didn't like the ending. In the movie a demon or the Devil (Brad wasn't sure exactly which character Jack Nickolson played.) inveigled three women into sleeping with him and then moving into his mansion. He taught them how to do magick and the movie ended with them ganging up on him and casting spells on Nickolson's character to force him to leave. Brad thought the ending was unfair to men. The idea that three mere women could force a man (even a demon) out of his own house and take over his estate wounded his male pride. As far as Brad was concerned, the movie was a veiled assault on men's position in the scheme of life. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the initial scenes as the demon seduced each woman in turn and convinced them that she should move into his house. It reminded Brad of his fantasies of what he would do once he had been made Vice-President of his father's firm. As he watched the movie, he unconsciously reached over and grabbed more handfuls of the delicious popcorn from the bowl that sat on Amber's crotch. Soon the most pressing of his physical urges were resolved and he lay back replete from his feeding of popcorn.

In an aside during what Brad considered one of the more boring parts of the video, he asked Amber whose picture was on the wall. Amber told him that it was the owner of the house and that from the looks of it, that she thought that the picture must have been a recent portrait. Then and there, Brad decided to meet the woman who's eyes seemed to follow him about the room as if she was watching every minute. He knew that it wouldn't take much skill to arrange to meet her; perhaps he could pretend he had lost his class ring while he was over at her house and ask to search for it. Brad was confidant that she'd be easily conquered by his manly charms and he'd have her in bed with him within an hour at most.

Andrew watched the movie through the infant's eyes that were once his own and drooled both figuratively and literally. Watching Brad put his hand next to Amber's crotch nearly drove Andrew's mind mad with desire. Every time he saw Brad drop his hand to the bowl which she held in her lap between her legs he had visions of Brad manipulating her naked body. If he had had full control of his body, he'd have quivered in lust. Strangely, the smell of popcorn brought back fresh memories of adult fare that he had eaten only weeks before and intermixed with his sexual desires, nearly driving him to the brink of utter madness. He couldn't decided which he wanted most, the opportunity to sit beside Amber in his adult body or to gorge himself on the luscious smelling popcorn that Amber held so enticingly in her lap. The saliva that dripped incontinently from his chin wasn't the result of any desire of his own, rather it was caused by his infant body's inability to control his lips and tongue. Drool poured from his slack jawed mouth in an unending fountain to run over his lower face in rivulets and drip from his chin in long strings to pool on the waterproof plastic pad of the playpen beneath his hands. From time-to-time, his subconscious's mind was attracted by the sounds from the TV, causing him to flicker eyes momentarily towards the TV set. Other than those moments, the infantile part of his mind was enchanted by Amber. He watched her every movement, allowing Andrew to observe almost every instant of the scene that was playing itself out before his innocent baby blue eyes.

About halfway through the movie, Brad's hand "accidentally" strayed and met the soft mound of flesh above Amber's pubic region. Amber didn't blink an eye as she picked up his hand without looking and redirected it to the almost empty bowl of popcorn. Brad made a moue of disappointment at his rejected advance, but decided to finish the bowl of popcorn and get "down to business" later. After a few more minutes, Brad said, "I've seen this movie before, why don't we listen to some music instead?"

Amber agreed and turned off the movie, then went through Krystyn's CDs for something appropriate. She didn't want anything that might upset the baby, but on the other hand she didn't want anything to excite Brad further. It was almost time for him to leave anyhow. The baby needed to be fed and she didn't think he'd be very tolerant of the idea that she had other responsibilities other than satisfying Brad's urges. She chose "Eine Kleine Nacht" from Krystyn's collection CD and put it in tray of the player, then excused herself so she could go to the kitchen and warm the baby's bottle.

Amber returned a few minutes later and picked up baby Jimmy from the playpen to carry him into the kitchen for his dinner. Brad followed both out of curiosity and a desire to be omnipresent in the mind of the girl who he intended to seduce before the night was over. Brad stood at the doorway and watched as Amber performed her babysitting duties with her charge for the night.

Once she had Jimmy securely strapped into his high chair, she looked into the refrigerator to find the putrescent green-colored jar of baby food that Krystyn had promised would be present. She put the jar on the kitchen table and found a white rubber-coated feeding spoon in the silverware drawer and laid it beside the jar. It only took a few minutes to locate the plastic feeding bibs in the maple breadbox where Krystyn stored her kitchen towels in one stack and feeding bibs and washcloths in another stack. She stepped behind Jimmy and quickly snapped the feeding bib in place, tossing the washcloth she had selected on the table beside the jar of baby food. Then she pulled out a chair and began to fed the infant before her.

Brad stood at the entrance to the kitchen, looking at the jar of strained carrots she was feeding him and said, "How can he eat that gunk?"

"Don't be silly, babies love this," Amber responded in a happy, musical tone, "I know the idea of eating mashed peas seems horrible to you, but you don't have a baby's taste buds. They like it, besides, he doesn't have any teeth to eat real food with."

Andrew had always hated the taste of the carrots, however, his infantilized sense of taste made the sensation of eating the soft paste that passed for a solid meal seem pleasing. Despite his adult opinion of strained peas, he opened its mouth hungrily and accepted every spoonful that Amber was willing to feed him. Unfortunately for Andrew wishes, his uncoordinated tongue seemed to get in the way of each spoonful, causing the puréed mass to squeeze out of his mouth uncontrollably and spill great green-colored gobs of semi-solid food down his chin and into the catch-pocket of the feeding bib.

"Jesus Christ, that's gross!", exclaimed Brad.

"Nonsense!", said Amber with perfect aplomb, "How well do you think you'd do if someone was spoon-feeding you? Give little Jimmy a break, he's only a baby! Do you think you acted any better when you were his age?

"Look at him! He's sticking his tongue out at you!", Brad said in astonishment, "He must hate baby food!"

"Silly!", Amber derided playfully, "It doesn't mean anything of the kind! That's the way that babies tell people they've had enough and don't want anymore. They'll stick out their tongues like that when they're presented with baby bottles and breasts too! They have to have someway to tell you they're full! After all, it's not as if they could speak!"

"Are you sure about that?", Brad questioned skeptically.

"Of course I'm sure! I've seen it hundreds of times!", Amber replied with confidence, "In any case, it doesn't matter now, he's finished. He's had enough solid foods for dinner. Let me wash his face and then he can finish his bottle of formula in the family room while we sit together. Besides, I want to make sure he doesn't spit up his dinner before I bring him into the family room. If he does, then I'll have a mess to clean up and have to feed him again."

"Do you mean that he's going to hurl what he just ate?", Brad asked incredulously.

"Maybe," Amber answered honestly, "If little babies get too much food or too much air in their stomachs, then they spit up. It's best to give them a little time before moving them after a meal, that is, if you don't mind?"

"No, no, not at all! The last thing I want to see is him tossing his cookies in front of me! Never mind, I'll wait in the other room until he gets finished," Brad replied queasily as he quickly retreated from the travails of normal infant behavior.

"Good idea!, Amber answered, "While you're in there, I'll burp him. He needs to release the air that he swallowed while he ate, before I bring him out. Once I relieve the pressure in his little tummy from the trapped air, he should be much less likely to spit up. Afterwards, you and I can talk,"

"Okay," Brad replied, retreating to the family room in masculine revulsion at seeing another male in such a helpless condition.

Amber winded little Jimmy without incident and washed his face clean after running the washcloth she had gotten out under warm water in the kitchen sink. Then she carried him back to the family room with his baby bottle in her back pocket of her jeans and set him down in his playpen.

From the look on Brad's face, Amber knew that his libido was in full control of his psyche. Although she had blunted his desire slightly by filling his gut, mere popcorn could not stop what was to come. She sat down beside him after giving little Jimmy his bottle and allowed Brad to pull him towards her in a full embrace. A moment later, his tongue was exploring her mouth in the most sensuous French Kiss Brad could employ. Brad was more than gratified to feel her responding to him and lean deep into his arms. Her hand found his crotch and began slowly and methodically massaging him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth in return and began exploring his oral anatomy as well. Slowly she unzipped his pants and carefully worked his manhood out of the narrow opening of his cotton brief without stopping her tongue's explorations of his mouth. Once she had it free, she began to gently stroke his erect manhood with her fingertips while baby Jimmy looked on through the mesh of his playpen.

Andrew was in a combination of a blue funk over his loss of sexuality and the sight of a woman he wanted to bed so desperately manually relieving the sexual needs of his adult rival. When she put her lips down to Brad's manhood and began to suck, Andrew wanted to scream and moan in envy and loss simultaneously, but his loss of control of his vocal cords forced him to remain silent. In the place that Andrew wanted to occupy, Brad made the same sound of excitement mixed with contentment. His legs spread wide and he shuddered as he neared climax.

It was only the gnawing hunger that growled in his stomach that made Andrew nurse while he witnessed the scene in front of him. As he suckled the nipple of his bottle of formula, his body began its own sequence of actions that would lead to the form of physical pleasure that was normal for an infant. Initially, the small stiff walls of his infant bladder cut loose as cystic pressure from the influx of urine from his kidney's reached a critical point to cause the weak sphincter of babyhood to release. Then he emitted a small fart as a soft stool pushed its way past his flaccid anal sphincter and dropped into the bottom of the diaper he was wearing.

The stimulation of the small bowel movement passing his anus triggered his lower intestine to continue and all at once, Andrew was voiding the contents of his bowels into his diaper. Although Andrew was horrified by what he was doing in front of the two teenaged strangers, the waves of pleasure that his infant subconscious personality felt as it relieved itself into the confines of the soft, absorbent loinclout without restraint. As each stool was released by the flaccid anal muscles that normally kept his rectum closed, he felt a silent jerk tug at his waist as the mass of the stool piled itself on top of the growing weight of feces that had passed seconds before and rested warmly at the bottom of his diaper. Despite himself, the temporary euphoria that his infant side of his personality felt filtered through to his adult personality and gave Andrew a warm sensation of pleasure that rolled up his spine and shook the bedrock of his personality. The shame and mortification that Andrew felt was almost exactly balanced by the extreme physical pleasure that his infant body had wrought.

Just as Brad orgasmed, Amber took her lips from his penis and covered it with a clean diaper she had secreted by her side in the corner of the couch. Brad's bottom jerked convulsively against the cushion of the couch as his pent-up semen was released into the soft absorbent folds of the disposable diaper Amber held. When Brad stopped spurting semen, Amber took the clean part of the diaper and tenderly wiped the tip of his penis dry before rolling the diaper into a neat bundle and taping it shut in the same way she treated her charge's wet diapers.

First Brad, then Andrew sighed in utter contentment at the release of their demanding physical urges. Catching a sniff of the baby's diaper, Amber gave Brad a chaste kiss on his forehead and told him that Krystyn was due home any minute and that she couldn't be caught with her boyfriend's pants unzipped while he sat on the couch. Brad reluctantly pushed his semi-erect penis back into his briefs and zipped up his pants before he got up from the couch. She walked him to the front door and let him kiss her goodbye at the front door before shutting and locking it behind him. Although Brad was had had his physical needs satisfied by Amber, he left the house wanting more. He had wanted to get into her panties that night and she had somehow maneuvered him into letting himself get jacked-off like a freshman dweeb instead of taking her the way he had planned. "I wanted her surrender to me tonight, by God!", he thought to himself, as if nothing else would do, "Who does the Hell does she think she is, running me out like that? No one's ever done that to me before! She acts like she cares more about that stupid baby than she does about me! Hell! I'm Captain of the football team, she should feel honored that I'd take the time to screw her! Fuck! I'm going to have to give Fred that twenty-five dollars I bet him! That bitch! She hasn't heard the last of me, by God! I'll have her kneeing on the floor at my feet and opening her blouse to me while she begs me to suck her tits before I'm done!"

As he got into his hand-lacquered, Candy-Apple Red, fully-equipped, Supercab, long-bed pickup truck, he said to no one in particular, "Fucking cock-teasing whore!" Then he tore off down the street at full rev, squealing his tires in anger and disappointment as he sped down the street in a fit of teenaged fury.

By the time that Amber got back, Andrew was teary-eyed at both his embarrassment over his dirty diaper and his apparent abandonment at the hands of his beloved babysitter. When she returned, Andrew greeted her in a sophomoric attempt to get her to notice him, having forgotten the sad condition of the disposable diaper that sagged heavily between his legs. Andrew gaaa'd in greeting hoping that she would pay attention to him now that his rival was gone. Amber returned to the family room and picked him up by the arms and held him to her chest as she carried him up to the nursery to change his dirty diaper. As she climbed the stairs, Andrew whimpered fretfully as he realized the reason for the trip to the nursery.

Andrew suddenly comprehended that she had no intention of taking him to bed to cuddle him and relieve him of his sexual desire. She was going to change his diapers!

The thought made Andrew panic and try to close his mind to the second humiliation of the night. He wanted to go away, to be anywhere, then have his dirty diapers changed by the vision of teenaged loveliness who treaded the stairs with him cuddled securely in her arms. As Andrew's mind shut down, the mind of the infant Jimmy took over again and Andrew found himself instantly confined to the dark quarters of his former fortress once more. The transition from owner to tenant took place without sound or warning. One minute Andrew was in charge and in the next instant the infant mind of Jimmy was causing his hands to clutch at Amber's blouse reflexively. Amber Baby Jimmy was perfectly happy to be in the arms of his babysitter. His soggy and filthy diapers were still warm and didn't bother him in the least. He only wanted to be close to the babysitter he had come to adore. Amber comforted him by patting the heavy bottom of his well-filled diaper with the palm of her free hand as she made her way up the stairs. The other hand held him just under his buttocks where his diaper ended. While his baby side was assuaged by her efforts, the adult side of his personality wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after him. With every pat, Andrew could feel the rapidly cooling mound of the enormous dump he had taken in his diaper and wanted to cry in shame and humiliation.

Jimmy, on the other hand, thought that the sensation of the warm stools and wet padding of the diaper being pushed against his bottom was fabulous! He chuckled and grinned every step of the way until they reached the nursery. The mess Jimmy had made in his diaper was a vindication of his existence; a proof that he could change the world and produce something on his own. Jimmy was inordinately pleased with the mess he had made in his diaper and cooed loudly in pleasure at his accomplishment. Besides, the mess he had made had made his diaper feel so warm and comfy. The wet feeling of the urine soaked diaper clung to his crotch moistly making him feel warm and protected. The pores of his skin opened under the influence of the wet diaper while the moist heat liquefied the oils in his sebaceous glands, allowing them to drain and cleanse themselves in the presence of the sterile urine. It was like having his bottom surrounded by a steam-heated bathtowel in a old-fashioned barbershop that still practiced the time-honored techniques of an old fashioned shave with a heated towel to soften the beard and used a well-stropped razor to make a man's face as soft and whisker-free as a baby's bottom. Unlike the eerie feeling of being surrounded by water that most primates feared when they had aged past the earliest stages of infancy, this was a delightful feeling of having his private parts being securely cocooned in his own warmth. The unexpected hardness of the cooling stools in the back of his diaper as Amber patted his bottom made a nice counterpoint to the wonderful sensations that his wet diaper had produced. All in all, Jimmy was completely satisfied with the changes he had made to his environment and was satisfied.

When they arrived in the nursery,. Amber laid Jimmy down on the changing table and buckled the safety strap around his belly before getting a fresh diaper ready. She had had experience with babies that were wrigglely happy to wear wet, dirty diapers and knew what to expect the moment she exposed his warm pubes to the relatively cold air of the nursery. She took a pacifier out of the jar at the back of the dresser and popped it between his lips before reaching over to the shelf, pulling a clean diaper out of the proper package and unfolding it to have it ready when it was needed. Amber opened the tub of baby wipes and picked one up, leaving it draped over the sided of the tub as she proceeded to take the top off of the jar of nursery vaseline. She knew that once she had his diaper down, little Jimmy would begin to either fidget horribly or howl in anger. Amber's experience told her that once she got him into a clean diaper, he'd calm down, but she would have to move quickly to minimize his discomfort at being changed out of what was to little Jimmy, a very pleasing situation.

When all was ready, Amber quickly unstrapped him, unfastened the tapes on the side of the disposable diaper and pulled it down between his legs. As expected, the shock of the cool air on his wet skin chilled Jimmy and annoyed him grievously. He opened his mouth to howl his anger, but the pacifier muted his complaint. Within minutes, Amber had wiped his little bottom clean with the front of the diaper, scrubbed his pubes and behind with the baby wipe she readied and had lifted his behind to slide a clean diaper beneath it. Both Andrew and Jimmy were extremely upset with the diaper change; Andrew was mortified to have a woman who he admired clean his dirty bottom like a helpless infant (Which he found excruciatingly humiliating, because that was exactly what he had become!) and little Jimmy, who was upset that the comfortable environment that he had created for himself had been removed without warning or permission. Within a few scant minutes, Amber had his bottom protected with a coating of vaseline, had dusted his crotch with a light coating of baby powder and had safety rediapered him in an overnight diaper. Jimmy calmed down immediately once he his bottom was ensconced in the downy soft padding of his fresh overnight diaper and he began sucking on the pacifier immediately. Andrew was less mollified; the experience had severely affected his self-image as a man and had made him realize that he was completely at the mercy of the women who ruled his life. The girl who he would have wanted to court only a week before was now the caretaker of his helpless infant body. He felt like he had been damned and sent to an infantine Hell.

Since the hour was late for such a little one, Amber decided to find a sleeper for him while she babysat him downstairs. He didn't appear to be sleepy, although he seemed to have gotten over the diaper change just as soon as he felt the comforting softness of the fresh diaper between his legs. He was happily sucking on his pacifier with a joyous expression on his face as she fastened the safety strap again so she could go through the drawers to find some nightwear to fit him. In a few minutes she found a baby blue sleeper with an applique of Winnie-the-Poo on the front that was just the right size. She unstrapped Jimmy and sat him up on the changing station, then gathered up the already opened bottom in her hands to pull it over his head.

Once she had worked his arms through the sleeves, she laid him back again and tugged the garment over his diapered bottom and laid the limp folds of the open legs loosely over each of his lower limbs. Beginning at his feet, she fastened each of the snaps in turn, going from one leg to the other to insure that the fabric of the sleeper was evenly distributed. The loud pop of each snap fitting home made Jimmy chuckle in delight at the same time that it drove Andrew into a fit of morose depression. Each one of his personalities interpreted the sound of the snaps in a different way; for little Jimmy, it told him he would be once again warm and secure, and for Andrew they were the final signifying sounds of an adult life lost and his permanent transition into a state of loving confinement and helplessness. After a few minutes, however, Jimmy began to frown with uncertainty with his new clothes. Although Jimmy had loved the feeling of being snapped into his sleeper initially, the strangeness of having his entire body covered soon began to disquiet him. Since he had been under the care of Krystyn, the only thing he had worn had been a disposable diaper. Worry lines appeared at the corners of his eyes and his mouth frowned in disquiet.

Once she had finished dressing Jimmy, she took him in her arms and carried him over to the rocking chair. The poor little thing's face was furrowed with anxiety lines that would have been more appropriate to an adult male's visage. She felt sorry for Jimmy and held him close to her breasts for a few minutes while she rocked him. After a few minutes, she decided he needed more than simple cuddling to calm down and she opened her blouse to expose her right breast. At first, Jimmy would have none of her tit as she exposed it to his mouth: he turned his head away from the foreign object in rejection of the unknown. But after stroking the side of his cheek with the tip of her nipple, she awakened his infantile reflexes causing his face to turn involuntarily to the teat and take the nipple into his mouth without thought. Jimmy settled down into a session of dry suckling which he found comforting and quickly induced the light sleep of a comfortable but not exhausted infant.

Andrew's reaction to nursing Amber's teat was buried deep in the nether recesses of his brain where they couldn't exhibit themselves. Had Andrew been in control of his body, he would have retched from the experience, but his subordinate position in his brain only allowed him to watch in utter disgust as his infantile subconscious satisfied itself by nursing a dry tit. Unfortunately for Andrew's mental stability, the pleasant sensations of the baby's suckling were clearly delivered to his mind. He could feel every movement of the baby's cheeks and lips as they drew Amber's erectile nipple deep into its mouth and nursed by pressing the nipple against hiss hard palette and creating a vacuum.

Despite his adult orientation, he felt himself being drawn into the experience and enjoying it. His previous psychological regression to an anal orientation was repeated, only this time he was drawn further into the mindset of his babyhood. The pleasure of oral gratification easily replaced the pleasures of pooping and peeing in his pants as his primary focus. Although he'd still enjoy making his diapers warm and wet or making a nice squishy mess in the bottom of his diapers, that was nothing to compare with the new found pleasures of suckling a woman's titty. Not since babyhood had Andrew experienced the sensation of a woman's teat in his mouth. Andrew's mind crumbled into disorganized, unmanageable pieces under the pressure of his new orientation. As an infant who enjoyed pooping his diapers, he had individuality, but as an infant who thrived on suckling and being nurtured at his mommy's teats, he began to lose focus. He had difficulty being able to distinguish between himself and Amber. Somehow it seemed to him that they were the same person, only in different places at the same time. The concept made his head swim.

When the baby's eyes closed in pleasure, depriving Andrew of his window to the outside world, he felt like a vast abyss had opened beneath his back, causing him to fall backwards into a bottomless pit. His virtual stomach felt queasy and threatened to turned itself over and inside-out as he accelerated in his mental descent through the psychic boundaries that had defined his life as a young adult. There was no anchor in his life anymore, nothing to hold him back, he was adrift in a limitless sea of consciousness that had no landmarks to delineate what he had once been. The control of his body might have helped him resist the changes in his personality that were gradually eating away at his sanity. Without the ability to lift a single finger, he was tied to the sensory inputs that his infant body provided. Once they were removed by sleep or unconsciousness, he lost most of his connection with the real world. Although he could still hear and sense tactile sensations, they were insufficient to maintain his personal reality. His life had become an unending nightmare of helpless loneliness, with only the few episodes of close physical contact when he was held to either Krystyn's or Amber's bosom to keep him from going stark-staring mad.

Despite his best efforts to maintain its stability, Andrew the adult was quietly slipping away. With only the distorted sensations from an infant's sensorium to fix his former reality in his consciousness, his mind was beginning to adapt itself to its environment. Andrew the college student was only a memory; the reality of his existence was that he was an infant. The memories of his former existence weren't enough to sustain his mental integrity over the long haul. His adult mind was slowly slipping into infancy; inexorably his personality had begun to accept his status as a baby and relearn the physical pleasures of being an infant. That was the beginning of the end for Andrew, once the control of the "dead" zone he had created around his neurological walls slipped for even an instant, the stealthy cellular army of his rejuvenated brain silently slipped in and began an unperceived, invisible besiegement of his mental defenses.

Amber enjoyed Jimmy's suckling and switched breasts after about five minutes. After five minutes more of continued suckling, Amber climaxed on the spot. Andrew never felt the quivering that radiated up from Amber's crotch, nor the involuntary clinching of her abdominal muscles as the throes of orgasm caused the musculature of her lower anatomy to go into temporary tetany. He was too far gone in his psychological rebirth to understand the faint sensations that filtered through the drowsing baby's brain. All at once, the baby's mind suddenly began pouring incredibly strong feelings of pleasure and ecstasy through the dendritic connection that linked Andrew's mind to the outside world. The dimly remembered sensations uncovered subconscious memories that immediately overwhelmed Andrew's consciousness. He slipped into passiveness as the feeling of suckling drew him back to a point in time were everything was done for him by an all-powerful maternal Goddess who he had learned to call mother. Everything seemed dreamlike and unreal. He relaxed and let the dream take him where it would. He had never learned the art of controlling his dreams so there was nothing left to do. Jimmy enjoyed sucking on the nipple which suddenly became quite hard and jutted into deep into his mouth. Andrew's mind had shut down in an almost fugue state while a massive reconstruction of his memories and reality was undertaken after his experience with Amber.

Under normal circumstances, the brain reconstructs its reality every night while the conscious sleeps and makes continuous readjustments to memories as they are retrieved while the brain is in a waking state. However, since the tissues of his brain itself had undergone massive rejuvenation, it had discovered that the encapsulated adult memories encoded in his brain had become out of synchronization with reality. The area of the Jimmy/Andrew brain known as the Limbic region worked overtime to redress the imbalance between perceived reality and what the remnants of his adult mind believed to be true about itself. Obviously, the personality that had encysted itself in his brain was aberrant; it couldn't deal with the demonstrable reality that it was in the body of a baby ruled by a brain that was called Jimmy. The brain being the self-repairing organic mechanism it was, it would have to rebuild the isolated and presumably psychotic subset of its consciousness that was attempting to maintain a separate existence. If the issue had been a pure flight/fight or food/sex problem, the R-brain would have mediated the commands and issued orders to destroy, copulate, gorge or run as circumstances dictated. The R-brain rested and let the L-brain take over the problem of re-assimilation. From the R-brain's viewpoint, the problem was merely being loved in a social context, which was the sole providence of the Limbic brain.

One of the functions of the Limbic brain was to insure the social survival of the individual by maintaining a proper viewpoint of the individual's relation to society. Unfortunately, Andrew's defenses had been discovered by the survival processes in his brain and were scheduled for eradication. Given the extremely rapid growth of new dendrites in an infant's brain, he had three weeks of conscious left for him before his personality was irrevocably erased or absorbed into the simplex mind called Jimmy. Fortunately for Andrew's peace of mind, there was no one to tell him of his ultimate fate. As the process of reassimilation progressed, his defenses would be undermined without notice, allowing a tunnel to be created through the neurological moat that was empty of connective dendrites. The interwoven wall of neurons would be silently breached, allowing the invading army of the person called Jimmy to enter and wreak havoc. Once the floodgates were open and his defenses overrun by the lymphatic hosts, the bits and pieces of his personality that survived the onslaught would be usefully incorporated into Jimmy's mind.

As the towers of intellect and education Andrew had carefully constructed over the years toppled in to mindless ruin, he would become a jabbering, drooling idiot who enjoyed making messes and wetties in his diapers. Mercifully, his torment would be short-lived; the pitiful remnants of his psyche would be absorbed within minutes, bringing the solace of nepenthe with the death of his personality. Even if he succeeded in a last ditch effort and managed to overthrow the conqueror in his moment of victory, the results would be much the same. The conscious connections to the nerves of his body had vanished. He would never be able to walk or talk again, much less aspire to be potty-trained. Neither his musculature or the organization of his brain was up to the task. The best Andrew could hope for was to sweep forth and overwhelm Jimmy's poorly-led cellular infantry. If he won, the prize would be a mental wasteland were all that had been before his transformation had been annihilated. He would inherit a psychic Kingdom he couldn't control and would serve as an inescapable prison until he died. If he won, he would lose contact with reality within weeks and descend into utter madness from which there was no deliverance. While his Superego communicated the necessary knowledge of his immanent psychic destruction to Andrew in his dream, it had no effect on the reality he was living through the dream. One way or the other, he'd be forced to live out the nightmare until he woke.

Even in his dream, he instinctively knew that his sanity didn't matter in the long run; there is very little difference between a babbling, incontinent madman and a pre-speech infant to an outsider except the size and power of the patient's body. The Superego within him knew that if that same madman occupied a clumsy infant's body, no one would ever suspect an adult mind was trapped within its confines. In either case both are equally unable to deal with the world and needed permanent guardians and caretakers as far as society is concerned. He would be diapered and bottle-fed, as well as bathed when needed. His world would be limited by the mesh of his playpen or the bars of his crib. If he had to be placed in mildly dangerous locations like a high chair, baby's autoseat or shopping cart, he'd be strapped in securely so he couldn't climb out on his own. He'd never take a bath alone again. When his adoptive mother was busy or tired of his presence for the day, she'd take him to a Daycare center where he'd be watched by strangers who were used to dealing with a helpless infant's needs. His new mommy would take him on outings to the park for fresh air on the weekends. Unless the spell was broken or withdrawn by the spellcaster, Andrew was doomed in his dream to a life of infancy. Each day that passed made the survival of his personality less likely as the cellular hosts gathered at the spherical moat of his mind.

After a few more minutes, Amber gently disengaged her nipple from Jimmy's mildly protesting lips and carried him over to the crib. His eyes only opened once in a state of sleepy half-slumber. She laid him down in the crib and draped his small receiving blanket over him and tucked a teddy bear in at his side. "Good night, Sweetkins," she said as she smoothed the hair on his head, "Aunt Amber will be downstairs if you need her. Just call and I'll come up."

Saying this, she switched on the baby monitor mounted to the head of the crib and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. She stopped at the sound control panel beside the nursery door and turned on the music as per her standing orders from Krystyn, then went downstairs to watch TV until Krystyn came home. She didn't worry about little Jimmy; the baby monitor on the end table beside the couch would let her listen into the noises coming out of his crib. If he fretted or cried, she'd know immediately. She made herself comfortable on the couch and rewound the "Witches of Eastwick" so she could watch it without Brad's silly comments.

When Krystyn got home she went up the stairs with Amber and checked on little Jimmy before she paid Amber her wages and sent her home. Little Jimmy was curled up in a fetal position with his thumb in his mouth in a deep slumber alongside his teddy bear. They left him as he was and returned to the family room were Krystyn paid Amber's wages and called her mother to pick her up. While Amber waited for her mother in the family room, Krystyn went up to her bedroom and changed out of her evening gown into robe. Just as she descended the last step of the stairwell, the doorbell rang and she changed direction. She answered the door and ushered Amber's mother into her house. Amber had heard the doorbell at the same time as Krystyn and arrived seconds later. The mother and daughter were sent on their way in minimum time while maintaining a maximum of decorum and politeness to allow Krystyn shut and bolt her front door against the outside world as quickly as possible. She was dying to see the tapes of Amber with little Jimmy in the nursery. Krystyn went to the bar and made herself her favorite bedtime drink as she rewound the surveillance tapes; heated evaporated milk with Kahlua. Sure enough, Amber had dry-nursed little Jimmy as she had expected. When she stopped the motion on the tape and zoomed in on Jimmy's face, she saw the infantine enrapturement on his face. "Well," she thought to herself, "he's taken care of for the night, I wonder how she faired with her boyfriend."

She rewound the secondary tape that covered the family room and chuckled at the sight of Amber's overly macho boyfriend's attempts to seduce her. From the way he acted, he'd be a perfect subject for adoption; he already had an infantile view of the world and the tape showed he was interested in meeting her. While her normal practice was to secure a client before attempting a transformation, she thought she might make an exception in his case. He'd make a darling baby and wouldn't be hard to place. She made a mental note to herself to look into the matter once Jimmy was adopted. After the tape was finished playing, she wiped it quickly with a powerful AC-powered electromagnet she had purchased at Radio Shack and put the tape back in the recorder for the next babysitting job. Then she took her glass of warm Kahlua-enhanced milk and went to bed.

The next morning, she went to rouse Jimmy and found him awake and happily sucking his toes while laying on his back in a sopping wet diaper. When Krystyn bent over the crib and lifted Jimmy out, the change in environment woke Andrew from the half fugue-slumber his mind had retreated into the night before. Andrew woke from his semi-sweet dream of being suckled by his birth mother to find that he was still in his nightmare of being trapped within an infant's body with an infantile Id named Jimmy in control. This time, however, when Krystyn changed his dirty diapers, the feelings of embarrassment and humiliation had vanished. Like a dimly recalled experience of cotton candy, the embarrassingly messy parts of being diaper dependent were forgotten, leaving only a vague remembrance of sweetness and well-being afterwards. Having his diapers changed felt good. Being clean and feeling the thick padding of the disposable between his legs felt good too. He knew he should be angry over what Krystyn had done to him, but Andrew no longer had it in him to be angry with anyone.

For that matter, Jimmy was also in an excellent mood. He chortled and cooed during the diaper change and was pleased when she laid him down in the crib again while she got a bottle of white grape juice for him. When she returned, she found him as before, with his toes stuck in his mouth and a big grin of oral satisfaction on little Jimmy's face. When Jimmy saw the bottle in her hands, he reached out his hands eagerly. She handed the bottle down to Jimmy and smiled as he stuck the nipple in his mouth and began sucking furiously. Then Krystyn turned on her heel and left the room. She knew that he'd fall asleep again after his bottle of juice and nap for a short while before he woke again.

The sensation of nursing on the latex nipple was astonishing for Andrew after the previous night's experience with Amber. His mind flashed rapid sequences of visual memories of sucking on Amber's teat intermixed with ancient memories of being breast fed by his mother as an infant. All the memories seemed to merge into a vast pleasurable Gestalt that gave him a deep seated sense of contentment and comfort. There was no shame in what he felt. Andrew reveled in the soul-satisfying sensation as his thirst was quenched and his tummy filled with the sweet, easily digested liquid. The feeling of the nipple as it moved against his lips and roof of his mouth sent him into ecstasies of rapture. His mouth seemed ten times more sensitive than it had the day before. Andrew was puzzled by the fact that even though his mouth was the same size relative to the nipple on the bottle that it had been the day before, it seemed to have grown in importance. He realized then that just as Jimmy had enjoyed sucking on his toes, so had he! Somehow his sensual paradigm had changed while he slept from genital to oral pleasure. What truly amazed Andrew was that he was perfectly comfortable with the change. When Jimmy became sated and allowed the bottle to fall from his hands as his eyes closed in slumber, Andrew too drifted off into a restful sleep.

Andrew awoke to find Krystyn changing his wet diaper before she sat him in his high chair and fastened his plastic bib around his neck. She opened a small jar of strained oatmeal with applesauce began feeding him his breakfast without a word. Strangely, the baby food no longer had a bland foul taste to Andrew. The intensity of the baby food sensations that filled his mouth surprised Andrew. He tongue and even the insides of his cheeks were flooded with exciting vibrant favors that he had never suspected lay beneath the insipid taste baby mush that he'd been eating for the past week. Jimmy enjoyed it too; he waved his hands around joyously at the sweet taste of the oatmeal while Andrew pondered what was happening to him. He supposed it was somehow connected to how alive his mouth felt that morning and harbored dark misgivings that his new found liking of baby food was mysteriously connected to his uncontrollable need to dry nurse Amber's teats the night before.

Whatever had been done to his mind, Andrew knew he'd never be the same again. Krystyn quickly finished feeding him and gave him a small bottle of formula to finish his breakfast. Jimmy hungrily suckled the nipple, drawing the warm, off-white liquid from the bottle into his mouth to trickle down his throat. When he was finished, Krystyn wiped his face with a damp washcloth and laughed when he made a loud belch as she burped him. Then she took him out of his high chair and lowered him into his playpen so he could amuse himself with his brightly colored plastic toys until it was time for his nap.

Jimmy crept to and fro within the confines of the playpen, picking up a toy here and mouthing it for a few minutes before dropping it and moving on to a new toy. Andrew was a bit surprised that he was enjoying the experience too. The toys had such interesting flavors and textures when Jimmy put them in their shared mouth. Within thirty minutes Andrew felt a faintly warm feeling at the front of his diaper as he began to dribble pee. Seconds later, he felt an overpowering undefined urge in his nether regions just before his abdominal muscles contracted and he was flooded with a warm sensation of pleasure as his bowels and bladder let go simultaneously.

Jimmy cooed in simple pleasure while Andrew's more adult mind warred with itself. On one hand, he knew he should feel disgusted by what he had just done, but his feelings were all wrong. He had liked it! He just couldn't enjoy peeing and pooping his diaper like a baby, could he? Jimmy's bladder cut loose again, soaking the entire front of his diaper. Andrew could feel the warm pee running down his crotch and dripping off his testicles to pool in the bottom of his diaper. Jimmy grinned and chortled at the tickling feeling the dripping pee gave him and peed some more.

Andrew was in emotional shock; he really liked the feeling of pissing in his diapers! Jimmy espied a rattle in the corner of the playpen and made a beeline for the colorful toy. Andrew felt the warm soggy diaper squish between his legs with every movement of his knees, enjoying every minute of it. When Jimmy reached the rattle and took it in his hand before plopping himself down in his wet, poopy diaper, Andrew liked that too. Jimmy shook the rattle awkwardly with one hand while making loud consonantless sounds to accompany the musical rattling noise coming from the toy in his hand. This went on for a long time before Krystyn reappeared and changed their dirty diaper and tucked them in the crib for their midmorning nap.

When they were awoken again, the rest of the day passed much as the morning had as did the days that followed. Andrew had been taken by the dream and drifted from one nap to another without considering what was happening to him. The line of nerves feeding him information about the outside world gradually opened while he slept, giving him full access to baby Jimmy's sensorium. One morning, Andrew was surprised when he wished that his thumb was in his mouth so he could suck on it and discovered that he was suddenly able to control his hand again as he promptly popped his thumb into his mouth. Later that day, he discovered that it was he, not Jimmy, who eagerly reached for the bottle of formula when Krystyn gave it to him. He was even more shocked at the end of the day when Krystyn tickled his belly as she changed his diaper and discovered that it was he, not Jimmy who was chortling in delight at her attentions.

After a day or two, (Andrew could no longer keep track of time), Andrew looked around and suddenly discovered that he was all alone in his head. Jimmy no longer controlled any part of his body. By this time, however, there was no appreciable difference between the two. Andrew laughed and cooed when Jimmy would have and played with his toys in the same way. Their behaviors and mindsets were the same. They were identical. Andrew had been assimilated. Only Andrew's memories of having lived a life before his transformation set him apart from any other infant. That night, Krystyn bathed him carefully with Johnson's baby soap and shampooed his hair before coating him in baby oil and washing him again to seal the moisture in his skin and make it extra-soft for the next day. When she was done, she took him out of the tub and carefully dried him before giving him a long sensuous massage with baby lotion. Then she powdered and diapered him in a heavily perfumed overnight diaper and lay him down in his crib to sleep. "Tomorrow is the big day, Jimmy!", she said as she tucked his teddy bear by his side and covered him with his receiving blanket, "Your mommy is coming to get you and take you home with her! I think your mommy will be very happy with how you've turned out. I've never had a happier, sweeter baby to put up for adoption."

Andrew smiled a tiny rosebud smile as his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep dreaming of a mother who somehow combined Amber and his birth mother in one person. In his mind, they had merged into a single person.

"Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven

Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline, pt I, sec 3 [1887]

Andrew awoke after having the strangest dream. Before he opened his eyes, he sought to ground himself in the memories of the day before reviewing the disturbing content of the dream itself. The dream had been so incredibly detailed and complex that he could hardly distinguish between his actual memories and the dream. Somehow the dream had blended with the memories of the day before until they seemed like a seamless sequence of events. He remembered having a conversation over the three-foot-tall, steel-wired cyclone back fence with his neighbor Allie about washing techniques. Andrew had just finished mowing his small backyard and his neighbor was hanging up her wash on the line when he asked her why she didn't get a dryer instead of hanging out the wash. Allie had replied that she had a dryer, but that drying the clothes in the Sun gave them a fresh scent that no dryer could possibly match. She told him that she only used the dryer on rainy days when she had no choice and that on a perfect Spring day like that day, there was no reason not to take advantage of the Sun and breeze.

Allie added in a maternal aside that her mother had told her when she was a little girl that the only way to dry a cloth diaper perfectly was to hang the freshly washed diaper in the breeze and let the Sun sterilize it. Allie smiled in remembered disappointment and said that the knowledge that her mother had passed on to her might never be of use to her, but she wanted Andrew to know in case he became a father someday. She shook her head as she continued to pin her blouses and underwear to the line with clothespins.

He had told her that Spring had only brought him his annual sinus condition and had instantly loosed a violent sneeze as if to make his point. Upon hearing Andrew's loud nasal eruption, Allie stopped what she was doing and had come over to the fence to suggest to him in a maternal way that perhaps if he took a nice hot bath maybe the steam would open his sinuses so that he'd feel better. Andrew had agreed to take her advice, telling her he was planning to take a nice long bath that night.

Andrew really liked his neighbor and was very attracted to her slim build that her tight fitting jeans displayed so well. Her ample bosom was contained neatly within the white ruffled blouse that she wore that morning, giving him a slight tingle of sexual titillation as he watched them bob up and down in response to her bending and straightening as she hung the clothes on the line. He remembered wishing that she was closer to his age so he could ask her out, but the gulf of five years made him feel like she was more his mother than a possible girlfriend. Rather than run the risk of embarrassing himself by asking her out, he had long ago decided to have her his confidant rather than his girlfriend.

Once the decision had been made, they had quickly become casual friends, occasionally grocery shopping together so she could teach him how to select ripe produce and help him learn the rudiments of cooking. In return, he would check the oil, water and transmission fluids on her car, even though she was perfectly capable of doing it for herself. Actually, Allie was completely self-contained. After her ill-fated marriage at eighteen which endured a stormy three years, but seemed to last an aeon , she was perfectly content to stay single. Her parents had died in the same year of her divorce, leaving her a huge trust fund which would easily support her for the rest of her life. Rather than spend the money frivolously, she elected to live a simple life in a small home which she owned outright, volunteering her free time to help at the neighborhood Daycare center for the poor.

Her only regret in life was that she wanted a baby of her own. She had formally applied to the State adoption service, but the fact that she was single counted heavily against her even though her well-documented trust fund proved that no baby of hers would ever feel the sting of financial want. They told her that with the long waiting list for childless couples, that it was unlikely that they would have a baby available for adoption for her soon. One of the councilors had felt sorry for her and had told her "off the record" that she might try a private adoption agency. Most private agencies were less concerned with placing infants with couples, then with the financial status and good record of the adoptive parent. She warned her though, that private adoption was likely to be very expensive. Allie had reminded the councilor that she had plenty of money and thanked him for the idea, saying that she'd begin looking into the prospects with a private agency immediately. It didn't take her long to find an agency that agreed to attempt to find a baby for her.

After talking to him about his sinuses, Allie had excitedly told Andrew that morning about the discussion she had had with the young woman at the private adoption agency the day before over a cup of coffee. She had told Allie that it would take from three to four weeks to find a baby for her to adopt. The only stipulation the woman had made was that the agency only had baby boys for adoption and that oftentimes the children had congenital physical problems. She told Andrew that she would rather adopt a healthy baby girl rather than a sickly boy, but she agreed to look at the baby boy if one was found for her.

Andrew vaguely remembered going to the local Walgreen's Pharmacy that afternoon to pick up his refill for Allegra that had been prescribed for his sinus problem. From that moment on, his dream memories seemed to have taken over. In the dream, he had been somehow changed into an infant and had spent three weeks in an elaborate escape-proof nursery in a house owned by a woman named Krystyn. In the dream, he had fought becoming a baby again, but he had lost and had inevitably come to enjoy being an infant again. He thought a moment about all the sensations and feelings he had enjoyed in the dream and was shocked to find he still felt the same way about them. Even laying there, safe in his bed at home, he had the strongest urge to put his thumb in his mouth and begin sucking. He decided that the dream must have given him cold sweats during the night because his underwear felt wet and clammy that morning. He felt his bare chest with his hand and was surprised that he hadn't put on his pajamas the night before the way he usually did. He must have been so tired that he had gone to bed wearing nothing but his briefs. He rolled over fitfully in his half-slumber, waiting for his alarm clock to go off to tell him it was time to get up. He had no intention of opening his eyes until that moment. He struggled a bit trying to roll over, feeling an unaccustomed weakness in the muscles of his back and legs. Once he managed to turn over, his outstretched hand unexpectedly hit something furry in his bed. "What the…?", he asked himself as he felt the foreign object with his hand.

The object was huge! It must have spanned ten hand lengths and was covered in some sort of soft-napped, fur-like fabric. He felt around a bit more and decided that the thing must be some kind of stuffed toy. He could feel a face and two arms and as he explored lower, he could feel that it had legs too. "Who put that thing in my bed?", he wondered to himself sleepily, "I don't own any stuffed toys!"

He took his hand and laboriously pushed himself on his side again to consider the odd happenings in his bed. As he did, heard a strange crackling, crinkling sound coming from his waist. He put his hand down to his crotch and felt a thin plastic sheathing covering a puffy feeling padding underneath. As he squeezed the fluid logged gel he felt it squish wetly underneath his fingers. "What the…." he thought to himself in rising panic, "These aren't my briefs! Just what the heck am I wearing?"

His eyes flew open to discover that he was in the crib of his dreams. He looked down to see his loins encased in a set of very wet disposable diapers. It all was real! Everything that had happened to him for the past three weeks was real! He had been turned into a baby again! In an anguish of mental torment, Andrew let out a wail of horror. Within minutes, Krystyn was at the side of the crib and taking him out for a diaper change. "There, there, now Jimmy. Calm down," she said as she laid him on the changing station and put a pacifier in his mouth, "Your mommy will be here in a few minutes to pick you up. We can't have you crying and making your face all puffy, now can we? Not after all the trouble I went to last night to make you all soft and sweet smelling."

She quickly unfastened his diaper and cleaned his pubes and bottom before giving his entire body a light dusting of baby powder and rubbing it into his skin to heighten the smell of the perfume. Then she lifted his legs and slipped a clean diaper beneath him and fastened the tapes in place. Once she had finished, she picked him up from the changing table and held him close to her chest, patting his thickly diapered bottom comfortingly. "There you go!", she said brightly, "All better! See? Let's take you downstairs to the family room so you can be there when she arrives, okay?"

Strangely, Andrew did feel comforted by the clean diaper and having her hold him close to her bosom. The pacifier had calmed his initial panic and her gentle pats on his rump made him feel secure in her arms. He laid his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes as she carried him down the stairs to the family room. She sat him in the playpen while she went to the kitchen to get his bottle of formula. She returned a few minutes later and handed it down to his waiting hands. Andrew immediately began suckling with the expertise acquired during the past three weeks of being bottle fed every morning. While he engaged himself with his liquid breakfast, she got herself a cup of coffee from the kitchen and waited for her client to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang and she went to answer it. It was her client as expected. She ushered the young woman into the room to see her adoptive son. Andrew was so busy sucking on the bottle that he didn't notice her at once and only looked up when he heard the sound of Allie's voice say, "He's simply adorable! How could any woman give him up for adoption? I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful child!"

When he saw Allie standing over his playpen, Andrew dropped the baby bottle in shock and tried to shout with upraised arms, "Allie, help me!", but all that came out was, "Allllgaaaa maaa!"

Allie smiled down at him and said, "Can you say 'ma-ma' for Mommy, Sweetiepie?"

"Ma-ma?", Andrew inquired almost automatically. It was the only word he could still say.

"Did you hear that," Allie said excitedly to Krystyn, "He called me ma-ma! What's his name?"

"His name is Jimmy, although you can call him anything you want. He's your baby now. Look at how he's peering up at you, I think he's infatuated with you. I think that the two of you where made for each other," Krystyn said smoothly, trying to hurry the transaction along, "Now about the final payment…"

"It's here in my purse," Allie said as she bent over the playpen to pick Andrew up in her arms, "Let's go sit down on the couch and I'll pay you right now.

Allie sat on the couch and perched Andrew on her left thigh while she went through her purse on her right to find the envelope with the final payment. Andrew reached out with his hand and brushed the side of Allie's cheek tentatively with his tiny fingertips as she took the envelope out of her purse and handed it to Krystyn. Then she turned back and smiled at Andrew's attempt to stroke her face, saying, "You know, I think I will rename him. There was the nicest college boy who used to live next to me who just up and left about three weeks ago. His name was Andrew Dremer. He was such a gentle and sweet boy like little Jimmy here. There's something in Jimmy's face that reminds me of Andrew. I wonder what happened to him. One day he was there and the very next day his place was empty. I never heard him move out. It was almost like he had been whisked off by some magical power. I was a little hurt that he didn't say goodbye to me. He didn't even leave a forwarding address. Even though he was too young for me to date, I liked him a lot. He seemed so helpless most of the time he was around me that he made me feel like his mother. I hope he's alright wherever he is, he was so innocent and lovable. Just like little Jimmy here. I think I'll call Jimmy 'Andrew' in memory of that sweet young man who so desperately needed a woman to take care of him. Maybe he found his perfect love and went off to live with her."

Krystyn smiled crookedly and said, "Somehow, I have the feeling that he did."

Allie's face brightened as she asked with maternal tone of hope in her voice, "You really think he did?"

Krystyn grinned broadly and said, "I'm sure of it!" Krystyn's face became more businesslike and came to the point as she said, "The final adoption papers will be ready next week along with the name change. What would you like to call him?"

"Well," Allie temporized, "Let his middle name be 'James' and change his first name to Andrew, he'll have my last name of course, so for the records, his name will be 'Andrew James Elder'. I'll call him Andy."

"Good choice," Krystyn smirked evilly, thinking what an odd coincidence it was that Andrew's next door neighbor should be the one to adopt him. From what Allie had said, she had been half-mother to him already before he had been transformed into an infant. Even more coincidentally, she had decided to rename him and give him back his original first name. Obviously, these two were meant to be mother and baby together. Krystyn got up and handed a blue diaper bag to Allie, saying, "This is my gift to the two of you. It's got a bib, a couple of pacifiers, several bottles of formula, a jar of baby food and a spoon, clean diapers, a package of baby wipes and two clean T-shirts inside. Did you buy the infant auto seat the way I asked you to before you came here? You know you can't legally transport an infant without one."

"Oh yes, it's already mounted in the backseat of the car!", Allie answered.

"Good! I wouldn't want you to get a ticket on the first day with him. It might ruin your whole day. Why don't the two of you go buy a stroller and go clothes shopping for him," Krystyn suggested, "You have everything you need for a shopping trip in the diaper bag. You can buy him as many outfits as you like since you don't have to worry about him outgrowing his clothes. He'll always be this size and age."

"I know, you explained that to me before I came over," Allie said with a sad note in her voice, "It seems such a shame that such a beautiful baby boy will never grow up to be a man."

"I'm sure that there are reasons for Andrew's condition that are beyond the understanding of mere mortals," Krystyn said disingenuously, "Take him shopping! Make him feel like he's yours forever! He is, you know. He'll never leave your side. Find the cutest, most adorable baby clothes you can find to show off your spanking new baby boy. Buy him bright toys to divert his baby mind and soft fabrics to caress his tender baby skin. You can eat at the Mall, there's formula and baby food in the diaper bag. The two of you will have a ball together!"

"You're right," Allie admitted, "Shopping sounds like a wonderful idea! I guess I'll need to get a stroller first. I have his nursery all ready, but that was one thing I forgot."

Krystyn nodded sagely and agreed, "There's always something that's forgotten in making one's plans."

Krystyn saw them out the door and began making plans of her own. That boy that was over at her house the other night with Amber, pondered, "What was his name?"

"Ahh, yes," she said to herself, "His name was Brad. Well Brad, I've rarely seen anyone who is as perfect for my collection of baby portraits as you are. Those tapes of you and Amber were most revealing. You're as infantile a male personality as I've seen in a long time. From the way you looked at my portrait on the wall, you seem as interested in meeting me as I am you. Hmm,…I'll need to call him, preferably from a pay phone so the records can't be traced. What will my excuse be….Let's see, I could tell him I found a man's money clip on the floor next to the couch and that since he's the only man whose been in the house for months, it must be his. That should fire his imagination and his libido at the same time! I'll tell him I got his number from Amber and if the meeting falls through, everything will check. I need to deposit this money anyhow and since I'll already be out, I'll pick up a cheap flashy money clip to show Brad and give him a call. Something in fake gold I think, to match his false smile and his obvious lack of character."

She got her purse and the envelope and went out to make another conquest for her business. Usually she consulted with Becky over who she choose, but this was different. For some strange reason, she felt impelled to make this decision on her own. Besides, she was a big girl now and didn't need Mama Becky looking over her shoulder and telling her what to do every minute. She didn't need Becky's help to transform her victims. She knew the spell as well as Becky. Becky was just another control freak who wanted to run her life for her. She had every right to choose who she regressed into infancy.

While Krystyn was out implementing her nefarious plans, Allie and Andy went shopping at the Mall. Allie had wisely stopped first at WalMart and purchased a Fisher-Price stroller, then had taken Andy to the Mall for an extended shopping expedition. Before she took him out of the car, she took one of the T-shirts out of the diaper bag and slipped it over his head and worked his arms through the sleeves. Then she unfolded the new stroller, strapped him into the seat and put the diaper bag in the rack underneath. As Krystyn had promised, they had a ball. Andrew accepted his fate with Allie with enthusiasm. She was his dream mother come true. As long as he had to be an infant again, he was happy as long as he was Allie's baby. Every so often, he'd look up at her and flash her the most charming, ingratiating grin he could. Of course, the charm he exuded was slightly tarnished by the solid sheet of spit that covered his chin and dripped down to his chest, but Allie didn't care, it was obvious he adored her. Allie made so many purchases that they had to make several trips back to the car to put them in the trunk so they could continue.

Around noon Andy got a little fussy from hunger and Allie was getting a little hungry herself. She stopped in the Mall food court and picked up a small Chef's salad with fresh sour cream dressing and croutons. She found a high chair among a line of them at the back of the food court and dragged the wheeled oaken chair to the nearest unoccupied table. Then she unstrapped Andy and put him in the high chair to feed him his lunch. Allie bent down and took the diaper bag from the rack and put it on the table. Then she opened it to find the jar of baby food that Krystyn promised would be in the bag. It was; she found a jar of Gerber Sweet Potatoes. Krystyn had never given Andy Sweet Potatoes before so the taste was a new one for Andy. She had fed him mostly mixed vegetables or puréed green peas to torture him. The minute the spoon hit his mouth, he was in heaven. How could Krystyn could have missed this? With all the squash and vegetable mixtures he had been forced to eat, there was nothing to compare with the sweet full aroma of the yams as they filled his mouth and found a comfortable home in his tummy. He polished off the jar in nothing flat, then nursed on the bottle of formula that Allie gave him while she ate her salad. Before he had finished his bottle, his eyes had drooped closed and he fell asleep with the bottle in his lap.

Allie took the bottle from his hands and recapped it, then returned it to the diaper bag before she moved it back to the rack on the back of the stroller. Then she patted him on the back gently to wind him without waking him before she lifted him from the high chair and carefully sat him in the stroller and strapped him back in while she finished her lunch. Andy slumbered on as she threw her dirty bowl and styrofoam container of iced tea in the trash bin and continued her shopping spree. Before long he was both wet and messy and even though he still slept, she wanted to change him as soon as possible. She took him to the women's restroom and waited for a baby changing station to empty before she began unstrapping him.

Andy woke in the unfamiliar environment of a women's bathroom surrounded by squalling babies on what appeared to be short, wide, foldout ironing boards covered in plastic and fitted with safety straps. When it was his turn, Allie took him from the stroller and laid him back on the changing station, then strapped him in place while she got the diaper bag from the stroller. Andy cooed pleasantly at her attentions, unlike the angry, screaming infants who surrounded him on their changing tables. The other mothers noticed how mild Andy was and commented to Allie that they wished their babies would be as pleasant for their diaper changes. Allie was please with how Andy had behaved himself and paraded him proudly

While this was happening, Krystyn had made contact with Brad to meet her at the park where she feigned forgetfulness in having left the money clip at home. She took him home and offered him coffee while she went to get the money clip. True to his coach's instructions, Brad refused caffeine on the night before the big game, but accepted her offer of a glass of milk. He drink the proffered glass of milk while he examined the clip carefully and decided whether to claim the unknown clip as his own or not. He had just decided that it was best to take it and thank her profusely when the change began. Within minutes, he was a naked screaming ten-month-old brat on the floor at Krystyn's feet. She chuckled as she diapered him and brought him up to the nursery to begin his retraining program.

She put him in the crib that Andrew had occupied only that morning and left him for the night. Then she went back to her room and made herself a triple nightcap of evaporated milk and Kahlua before going to bed. It had been a good day. She had made a substantial profit on Andrew, showed her independence from Becky and turned Brad into an infant on the same day.

The next morning, all Hell broke lose in the town. The town's star quarterback had gone somewhere the night before and had never returned to his parents home. They were frantic and called the police. The coach was equally upset and echoed his parents calls to the police. Soon the police were out canvassing the neighborhoods to see if Brad had been seen with anyone. The local news media was alerted and hourly bulletins were put out on the radio and TV. The town wasn't all that big and everyone took football very seriously indeed. If the star quarterback had been abducted, there was a good chance they'd loose the big game that night. Everyone in town was up in arms.

It didn't take Becky long to figure out who was at fault and what to do about it. After all, most of her Coven members liked football too! She sighed and remembered the backup plan she had prepared for just this sort of eventuality. She gathered some of the Coven members together to pay a call on Krystyn and resolve the issue once and for all. Krystyn had endangered the Coven's existence by her foolishness and would pay. When they opened her front door (magickally picked the locks) and marched up to Krystyn's bedroom, they found her still asleep with the glass of evaporated milk and Kahlua beside her. One of the Coven members went to the nursery and confirmed that Brad had indeed been regressed. Becky opened a small vial she took from her pocket and emptied it into the remnants of the drink from the night before. She picked up the glass and swirled the contents around for a moment to mix it and said to the other witches in the room, "Alright, it's time. Let's wake her up."

"Krystyn?", Becky cooed, "Kystyn, it's time to wake up. It's time to talk to the Coven about what you've done. Wake up, Baby!"

"What the Hell?", Krystyn choked as she looked around to see the grim-faced Coven members that surrounded her bed. "I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, "I need something to wet to drink in the morning before I can talk."

Becky nodded and handed her the drink that was on her nightstand from the night before. Normally Krystyn wouldn't have touched a milk-based drink that had been standing out all night, but the angry expressions on her fellow witches faces frightened her and made her swallow the dregs whole without delay. Fortunately, the high alcohol content of the Kahlua had preserved the milk from spoiling.

"Well now….," Becky began, "I seems you have the town in an uproar. The star quarterback has mysteriously disappeared and now they have the entire state looking for him. What did I tell you about maintaining a low profile? You couldn't pick some unknown student with no family to regress on your own. No, you had to pick the town's favorite son, just before the big game. You didn't care about what effects that your spell would have and it exploded in your face. Your probation period as my apprentice is over, Krystyn, and I'm sorry to say that you've flunked miserably. You see, we give our apprentices a fair amount of latitude in what they do so they can stretch their powers while we evaluate how well they deal with the power that we give them. Once the period of probation is over, the apprentice is either accepted into the Coven or dealt with as required.

Frankly, Krystyn, your lapse in judgement tells me that you need a long rest from making any decisions whatsoever. And your choice in nightcaps tells me that the kind of rest I have in mind for you is just right."

She sniffed the glass and said, "Evaporated milk and Kahlua, right?"

She smirked and said, "It's kind of like an adult version of baby formula with a flavor to make it taste like chocolate milk, isn't it? Well, we can suit your taste for formula and see to the problem you've created at the same time. Grechen, get Brad out of the nursery." She turned to the woman in the bed and handed her some forms on a clipboard and offered her a pen as she said, "Krystyn, we have to move fast, sign these forms."

"Wha…what are they?", Krystyn asked in a stupor.

"Don't ask! Just sign, Damnit! We haven't time for any more of your foolishness. This is for the Coven, remember?", Becky demanded. Shirley came up from behind Becky and stamped the documents with a notary's seal and entered it into her record book. Once the forms were signed and notarized, the law was clear; Shirley was a notary public and the forms had been freely signed without duress. The forms would be legal in every sense of the word. Even if they weren't, in a week or so, the forms would disappear entirely, so they didn't have to be perfect. They were only a temporary measure to have for insurance while the Coven set things in their proper places again.

Krystyn complied meekly to the High Priestess's demands and signed each form where indicated. When she was done, Becky smiled at her for the first time and said, "There, now that's all done. I am now your legal guardian and you've signed over all your property to me. In addition, you've given me your full power-of-attorney, backdated to last week. You've also signed a document saying that you feel that mental pressures have made you incapable of handling your affairs and want me to dispose of your property to pay for mental treatment which you intend to seek in another state. That's all there is to it!"

"What do you mean that's all there is to it? I'm a member of the Coven, aren't I?", Krystyn squealed in dismay.

"Not anymore! A quorum of the Coven has voted on your crime and the decision is final!", Becky said with the resonance of Queenly authority, "You gave up the protection of the Coven the minute you disobeyed the rules of secrecy. You will have to face the consequences of your actions! You endangered the Coven by being stupidly greedy and will have to pay the price for your asinine cupidity. From this instant on, you own nothing. Your car, your house and bank accounts have become my responsibility to manage and utilize for the Coven's good. You don't even own your own body. As far as the Coven is concerned, you're only an errant child waiting to be disciplined and put in her proper place."

"But I'm not a child," she quailed, "I'm a full grown woman!"

Becky smiled cruelly and said, "That particular problem will be rectified within minutes. You see, the minute you drank from the glass on the bedside table you should have started regressing into infancy. The only reason you didn't is that the rest of the Coven as well as myself put a stasis spell on you until we were finished. It's time to lift that spell now and allow you to become what you truly are; an infantile little girl who can't control herself!"

Becky turned to the Germanic blonde-haired witch named Grechen and said, "Did you bring the diapers and plastic pants from the nursery?"

"Yes, Mistress," answered Grechen respectfully.

"Laura, did you bring enough cash with you to take the evening flight to Dallas?", the High Priestess demanded of the slim, brunette witch.

"Yes, mistress. I brought over two thousand dollars in cash as you specified. I put five hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills in four plain security envelopes as per your instructions and have the four envelopes divided up and hidden in two zippered, anti-pickpocket underblouse body wallets as you ordered. I have another hundred dollars in assorted twenties, tens, fives, and ones as well as five dollars in change in a small change purse in my pocket so I can pay the cabbie without exposing how much money I'm really carrying.

I also brought two wigs and a change of clothes in an old oversized handbag. I'll stuff the wig that I'll meet the preacher in as well as the clothes I'm wearing in my old handbag and leave it in one of the womens' restrooms of the Dallas airport after turning over the babies. I'll stuff a few twenties in and around the clothes so that it will be sure to be stolen the minute I leave the restroom. I also have the false ID that you had prepared for me in case of emergency in my purse," answered Laura.

"You have the number of the witch who is a member of the Dallas police department memorized?", Becky asked.

"Yes, mistress," the woman replied with certainty.

"Good, she'll help you if anything goes awry. She's not as powerful magickally as we are, but her position gives her temporal powers that are sometimes useful to the Coven. Now go and prepare a large diaper bag for two babies for a plane flight tonight. Formula and food, with plenty of diapers and receiving blankets. Male and female, approximately ten-months-old each, got that?"

"Yes, Mistress," replied the young brunette woman as she scurried away to execute her mistress's orders.

"Shella!" Becky shouted, "Do you have the emergency number with you? Give it to Laura so that she can make contact with the Reverend if necessary. Make sure you mail the adoption orders to Allie in the morning. Use gloves to handle the certificate and envelope so there will be no fingerprints and wear a hairnet. Also, be sure to use self-adhesive stamps on the letter so you won't leave any of your saliva. Post the letter at the in the Mail Box at the Post Office's drive-thru. I want no slip ups on this one. We made a mistake with Krystyn, let's not repeat it."

"Yes, Mistress," replied the dark garbed woman at the other side of the bed.

"Then call that number and tell them we have two of Satan's own babes to be taken into the house of the Lord," Becky ordered, "When you're finished call the airport make one way reservations for three on the next flight to Dallas, one adult and two infants. Use the name on Laura's fake ID. Do you understand? She can come back using her regular ID and pay cash."

"Immediately, Mistress," responded the dark garbed woman as she left the room in haste.

"What doo…do you mean; two infants, High Priestess?" asked Krystyn humbly.

Becky chuckled and said, "While we aren't Satanists, I'll bet you didn't think I'd have a Baptist preacher's number in Texas, did you? Strange how these things work themselves out. It never hurts to plan ahead and have a backdoor that no one expects. There's a preacher in Texas farms out babies to deserving couples. Brad is going to be one of them. You'll be the other. Now here is the fun part, this particular preacher only selects the most righteous, God-fearing members of his flock to be adoptive parents. You will never hear of witchcraft again. After a few years of crawling in diapers at the Holy Roller's feet, the whole idea of witchcraft will be anathema to you. To make sure that you do, we've enchanted you with an 'extra' little spell for your edification and punishment. Under their influence, you'll never develop any sort of powers again. They will pray over you constantly for God to release you from permanent babyhood, but it will never happen.

They will think that a spell binds you, but in fact you will merely have been subjected to a change at the cellular level and the spell's energies will have been long since dissipated. You yourself will receive a second spell, a geas, which will permanently change the structure of your psyche. The geas will…do things to your psyche that you can't imagine now. Among the changes will be hallucinations which we believe you will find…distasteful. There will be other effects which you won't like but are necessary for the security of the Coven. Unless your new parents wish to indulge themselves in witchcraft and have the power, there is nothing they can do will change you back to what you were before. You and Brad will never talk again and never grow up.

Shella will tell the minister now that she's kidnapped you from a sect of baby-killing Satanists and is frightened for her life. She's quite theatrical with her histrionics and her voice is close enough to Laura's in timbre so that he won't detect the switch. She'll tell him that they put a curse on you to remain babies so that you can be used as human sacrifices. Of course its all one huge lie, but it's what they want to believe, so why not say it? People believe what they want to believe, not the truth."

"But I'm not a baby!", Krystyn said.

"Yes," Becky rejoined, "There is that one little detail. I just wanted you to know what we were going to do and why. But you're right, it's time to allow the transformation to take place."

She lifted her hands on high and said, "Coven members, attend me now! As your Queen, I do both command and abjure you to do my willing! Release the stasis spell which we have laid upon this woman."

Immediately, Krystyn began shrinking into an infant. When she had shriveled into infantine impotence, Becky took the diaper which Grechen had left on the bed and diapered her former apprentice, then she raised both her feet in one of her hands and pulled a pair of vinyl pink pants down over her legs and diapers.

Laura appeared with baby Brad in her arms dressed in a diaper and T-shirt. She passed another T-shirt to Becky and Krystyn was swiftly dressed to match her (supposed) twin brother. With only a nod, Laura took the two babies into her arms and took them outside to go to the airport. She strapped them in behind the drivers seat with no regard for the law about baby seats in cars. It didn't matter, the spell she had placed on the car made them absolutely invisible in the back seat. A different version of the same spell would make her presence completely forgettable after she had passed the ticket desk and boarded the airline. She would pay for the ticket in untraceable cash.

Within four hours after she had passed everyone who had chanced to see her or the two babes in arms that she carried would forget as well. Within twelve hours, she would be back home and there would be no records or memories to betray her. Since the spell operated at the cellular level of memory and perception, no amount of truth serum or hypnosis could make the ostensible witnesses reveal what had been erased from the neurochemical structure of their minds. Even the Baptist minister who took the babies from her would find within twenty-four hours that he could not remember her face, hair color or the clothes she wore.

Then the true coverup would begin; the house would be emptied of furniture and then demolished. After that was accomplished, the tax records and utility records were modified to show that taxes had never been paid on the city owned lot and that the utilities had never been installed or turned on. The telephone company suddenly "never" had a customer with the unlikely name of "Krystyn Rockaby". The original building permits vanished along with the new permits Krystyn had gotten when she upgraded the security on the house. The accounts receivables registers in a hundred businesses and local businesses changed overnight as all payments, debts and credits created by the adult Krystyn were expunged from the records. All evidence of Krystyn's physical existence on Earth disappeared from reality. The person named Krystyn Rockaby had never existed, her deceased parents had died childless. Before the day was out, her voter registration and party affiliation would disappear from the records. Her birth records and school records vanished into thin air overnight. Even the checkout records from the Public Library would vanish overnight. High School yearbooks in hundreds of homes and two libraries (the local library and the High School library) had blank spaces (a notoriously bad error on the part of the printer, everyone would remember as they looked at the blank spot in the school yearbook) where Krystyn's photo had been. Family albums changed as she vanished from class photos of every class she had attended from Kindergarten to High School.

The van that she had driven would be found abandoned at the side of a lonely road without plates or prints. The van would be found in pristine condition; without a trace of hair, fiber, stain or evidence of normal use of any sort. The tires would show no wear and would look brand new. When the police found the van and ran a check of its VIN number (vehicle identification number) it was found to be the unsold property of a car dealership and was returned to them as recovered stolen property. Even the sealed odometer reading was consistent with a one way trip from its original owner, the car dealership. Both the police and the dealership's manager would be baffled as to how a two year old car was still listed on the dealership's books as new and unsold. They also would be mystified as to how and why the thieves stole a car that had obviously gotten misplaced on the lot and then abandoned the still valuable vehicle.

Krystyn would become an "unperson" in Orwell's phraseology. While there was nothing they could do about Brad except hide him among the Baptists of Texas, Krystyn's very existence could be systematically erased in toto. A few minor spells on her neighbors, and they would only remember that the lot on the corner of the street had always been a weed-overgrown empty lot.

The rest of the Coven members removed any magickal equipment and records from Krystyn's room as they prepared to depart. It had been a nice, clean, surgical operation, so unlike the shoddy way that the former apprentice named Krystyn preferred to do business. At it's highest levels, a well-organized coven has the same striking power of a CIA black bag, wet-operations and clean-up crew. There was nothing left to find in the morning. The principals and the evidence were gone, totally eradicated beyond humankind's ability to find or reproduce upon demand.

Within two days, Krystyn's driving record, insurance history, medical history, vaccination records, IRS records, credit records, utility bills, social security records, school records and vital statistics had ceased to exist. Krystyn's entire life vanished instantaneously as magickally-charged programs swept the financial, educational and medical institutions for evidence that the person named Krystyn Rockaby had existed and eradicated the data instantly and permanently. The combination of computers and magick could reach into the most secure database and eradicate every iota of Krystyn's former existence.

Hundreds of perfectly forged orders from the Federal Marshal's "Witness Protection Program" appeared on the desks of the keepers of the magick resistant titanium-steel vaults of paper records with the proper seals and signatures of relevant officials, ordering the recipient to destroy any physical documentation of Krystyn's former identity. (These documents were accompanied by the usual threats of immediate imprisonment without benefit of bail, council or trial under the relevant Federal Statutes granting unlimited emergency executive power to the Federal Marshal Service to seize anyone who disregarded it's orders to be put into solitary confinement and have the key be, in effect, thrown away. Once you had angered the ultimate keepers of State secrets, there was no forgiveness or remission of sins; only the oubliette or death would satisfy their blood-thirsty, gut-gnawing need for revenge.)

As always, the record keepers obeyed without a murmur of disagreement. To argue or disagree with the government agencies involved would cause them to disappear more completely than the victims of the dictatorial regimes of South American Dictatorships. Not a single record keeper had ever had the courage to dispute the right of the government to subvert their private file systems. To do so would incur the wrath of a group who might decide to drop their bullet-riddled corpse in a pit filled with wet lime in the dead of night. The government had grown too powerful and dangerous for either large corporations or individuals to fight.

Within a month, the house itself would be gone along with any memories or records that ever demonstrated it's existence. After the clean up crew had completed their job, there were no tax records, titles or land transfers on the property itself to indicate that the empty lot had been anything other than a weed-choked eyesore that was owned by a negligent city. The weeds that sprouted overnight were as much a joke as they were a cover-up. The eldritch work detail enjoyed playing pranks when the opportunity presented itself and the simple growth spell camouflaged their work perfectly to the casual observer. The ragweed that grew to man-height overnight made everyone in the neighborhood with allergies suffer. Once their work was done, the Coven would disappear into the background again with nary a ripple on the surface of reality to show it had ever been present.

Like their forebearers, the antecedent inheritors of the Coven's traditions had learned to perform their work invisibly and vanish into nothingness. Survival of the Coven meant absolute secrecy above all. Those who violated the terms of their sacred oath, were subject to the justice of the Coven. The only evidence that Krystyn had ever existed would soon lay in the minds of the two eternal babes in the hands of Baptist missionaries three states south. As time went on, Brad's mind would deteriorate until what was in his cute infant head resembled the outer shell that remained of his former existence. In a month at most, his mind would regress into early infancy, leaving not a shred of clue to what had happened that morning.

Krystyn's mind would suffer a far more ghastly fate. An enchantment had been laid on her to prevent her mind from deteriorating like Brad's psyche. As a precaution, a geas was laid upon her to keep her from attempting to communicate her true intelligence by any means to her caretakers. By her behavior, she would appear to be a normal infant. The geas would force her to crawl, play, giggle, babble and bawl like any infant, whether she willed it or no. Her body would become an infant automaton which would house Krystyn's adult mind. Brad would at least be allowed the blessing of nepenthe so that his fate would not be an unhappy curse for more than a month. Given his behavior with his former girlfriends, Becky judged his fate to be just. Krystyn, on the other hand, had incurred the wrath of the Coven and had been stripped of her powers as well as her body. She would retain her memories and self-awareness, but without any mental defenses against the barrage of Christian preaching and exorcisms which would eventually grind her down to a naked ego who would become terrified of spells and witchcraft as the metaphysical ideology of her caretakers ate its way into her mind like a horrible worm-like parasite that devoured her psyche, leaving tunnels in her reason that were back-filled with the waste of illogical myth.

The knowledge that she had been a witch and that her own activities had caused the curse of God to fall upon her would shrivel her soul like a sun-dried raisin. The effect of the geas would also prevent her from mentally accepting Christ as her Lord, so that avenue of escape was closed to her as well. She would become a weepy, whiny, fearful personality whose infant body would fit like a tailored suit. She would regret that she had ever been born and live in terror of her personal Judgement Day when (as she would come to believe) she would crouch on all fours at the feet of God to receive His eternal damnation for the abominable sin of witchcraft. The very smell of her poopy diapers would become a curse of their own as they reminded her several times daily of the fetid reek of Hell which was to become the place of her eternal torment on the day that she died. There would be nothing in her life to bring her heart gladness or solace of soul. Everything that she would do as an infant would incur guilt as every loving thing that was done for her would remind her of the price that must be paid for sinning against God's commandments as set forth in the Bible whose every word she would know and come to believe in.

While she would be Baptized early in her stay with the Baptists, the pious act on the part of the minister would make no difference to a person who constitutionally could not accept the ascendance and forgiveness of God. She had committed evil as an adult and could not accept Jesus into her heart. Her helpless body would not even permit her to make an evil-ameliorating act that a Catholic Bishop might praise. Krystyn would know no redemption for her sins on Earth. Knowing this, her mind would descend into a continuous consideration of the horrors the next life would bring. The loving arms of her caretakers as they carried her helpless body from one room to another would bring forth images of demons who would carry her equally helpless soul from one torture pit to the next.

If she was lightly paddled on her diapered bottom for being naughty, she would imagine the barbed, acid-dripping, poisoned demonic scourges that were soon to come to flay the ethereal "skin" from the corpus of her soul and she would scream in absolute terror as she befouled her diaper in fear each time she was spanked. Since the Baptists believed in corporal punishment for childhood naughtiness and the restructuring of her brain by the geas would force her into occasional infantine waywardness, it was a punishment that she would receive many times in the years to come.

When her future adoptive mother put her naked infant body into a tub filled with cotton-candy perfumed bubble bath, she would be shocked by the infant girl's reaction to the mounds of foam that frothed up around her. For Krystyn, the vision of being boiled alive by demons in a seething simple (a supersaturated solution of sugar and water) was so clear that it would be almost a reality to her. She would see the small mounds of bubbles clinging to her arms as the incredibly hot froth from the viscous, sticky syrup that bonded on skin like hot glue and proved impossible to scrape from her skin before it raised huge blisters on her skin as it cooked the flesh beneath. Krystyn would believe that her agony was the punishment that was specific to the sin of gluttony. She had loved sweets; in particular her chocolate-covered cherries from Belgium and the Demonic torture of being boiled alive in sugar syrup was her personally assigned retribution for her sin of her devotion to sweets in place of a more righteous devotion to God.

The adoptive mother would watch querulously as her baby girl frantically tried in clumsy baby fashion to push the foam off her skin. She would smile happily, trying to show her baby girl that the foam was harmless by playing with it and would mound a huge pile on her arm before doing the same to the baby. Krystyn would look on in horror as the female demon gleefully dipped its own scaled, dainty claw in the frothing, boiling sugar, then covered Krystyn's arm in a mass of the infinitely painful brew. Krystyn would stare in horror as the overcooked flesh fell from her hand and arm to reveal the bones and tendons that lay beneath her fingers and arm. The Demon would smile at her open mouthed stare at her arm and scoop up a handful of seething syrup in the bones of its fleshless hand and with a hideous grin on its horrible visage, blew the five hundred degree seething froth onto her face. Krystyn would scream as she felt the skin and muscles that had formed her face melt and slide from her skull to cool instantly in the cool water of her bath and form a hideous sort of hard sugar-coated baked-flesh candy. Instantly, the Demon would pick her up and begin to scrub her remaining skin from her living flesh with course grained sandpaper while it uttered grotesque noises of pleasure at the sound of her screams.

Once that small suffering had been completed, the Demon would carry her off to find a new torment with which to torture her spirit. After the Demon had lain her on the filth covered floor of the cave and bound her loins with a cruel chastity belt that had no lock, it would place her in the center of the web of a giant spider in the corner of the subterranean cave. Krystyn would relax and try to remain quiet least any noise alert the giant spider to her presence. Every time she would move, the chastity belt would make a high pitched crinkling noise that would indicate to her it was constructed from infinitesimally small interwoven rings of chain mail forged by equally infinitesimally tiny ultra-demonette hands. The high pitched crinkling sound that the belt sounded was really the tiny, tinny clash of thousands of rings as they slapped together. The chastity belt was obviously meant as a sonic lure for the giant spider. If she moved around too much, the spider would be alerted and return to its nest to devour her.

After a few minutes, she would decide that the monstrous spider must be in another part of the web and hadn't felt her vibrations through the fine mesh that it had woven. As long as she remained quiet and didn't touch the web itself, she knew she would be safe. The floor of the nest was soft and totally unlike the rest of the web, although the remains of the skeletons and detrius from the spider's previous dinners lay strewn about her on the floor of the nest. Before her lay a segment of the blue bulbous jointed spine of some unknown creature of Hell and in the corners of the nest there were what must have been the bones of the forelimbs of other creatures. When she picked them up, they would rattle noisily, so she would lay them down in quiet haste before the sounds summoned the spider to her lair.

Krystyn would awake at midnight to find herself in an open-topped wrought iron cage surrounded by the corpses of dead furry animals. She would know instinctively that they must be corpses because they failed to move or breath in the slightest. Over the cage would fly a flight of circling diminutive winged demonettes screeching their tiny songs of praise to their Foul Master in the Nethermost Ring of Hell, but Krystyn would know they were only watchers to make sure she didn't escape her cage. Strangely, she would feel that being in an iron cage in Hell felt faintly comforting. It would mean that the demons were finished with her for a time and that she could rest before the torture began anew. From her viewpoint, at least she wouldn't have to worry about being paralyzed by spider venom and being cocooned in spider silk to be hung as a late night snack for a spider. The thought of having the all her bodily fluids sucked from within her while she watched would make her blood run cold.

Perhaps the demons were saving that bit of horror for another day, she would muse as she began to fall into the deep, restful slumber of infancy. She would kick her legs a bit and would realize she had been wrong in her assessment of relative safety. While she slept, the spider had would have already paid her a visit and cocooned for its next meal. When she put her little hands next to her face for close examination in the dim light of the nursery's five watt nightlight, she would begin to panic. Her hands would be covered with what appeared to be the soft white silk of a spider's cocoon. She would wait open-eyed for hours awaiting the giant spider's return to suck her body dry of fluid before it rended her still quivering flesh limb-by-limb so it could devour each morsel of the sweet-blooded baby girl in arachnid delectation. Finally, she would fall into an exhausted slumber which was so deep that she couldn't be roused. When she woke the next morning, she would be back in the real world. Her hallucinations would end when true sleep overcame her. Unfortunately for her peace of spirit, the visions would return again and again; the witches' spell on her insured that they would…endlessly, until the day that she died and was reborn again.

The adoptive mother would be astonished by the baby's reaction to the bubble bath. Every touch of the harmless foam would make the infant girl wail as if her flesh was being eaten away by some acid. She would remove the baby from her bath as quickly as possible, thinking that perhaps the baby girl had an allergy to the perfume in the bubble bath. She would dry the baby with the softest bath towel she had, murmuring soothing mothering noises to quiet her, but the baby would still scream in torment of spirit. After drying the screaming baby, she would quickly diaper her in a disposable diaper and set her down in her playpen to calm her . The stratagem would apparently worked, when she discovered that the instant the baby was set down in her playpen, she would become utterly silent. She would play with the toys a bit, but would seem to find no interest in the interlocking plastic chain of blue egg shaped objects and the long handled baby rattles would seem to frighten her, so she would be left as she was. After a while, the baby would fall asleep and her mother would take her out of the playpen to tuck her into her fancy real walnut crib for the night, making sure that all her soft, plushy toys were lined up within easy reach on the back rail and foot of the crib. Her husband would demur on the cost of the expensive crib at first, but when he saw the pitiful little baby girl that the preacher had, and heard the preacher tell the woeful tale of the baby's rescue from the clutches of the Satanists, his generous heart would melt and he would agree to buy the nursery suite that his wife wanted. Everyone knew that private adoption services cost twenty thousand dollars and more just for the privilege of adopting a baby. He would get off cheap and he would know it. The preacher would require nothing more than the ten percent tithe that they already gave to the church, so he would be no poorer by the adoption itself. If his wife wanted to spend a bit extra for good furniture that would last…Well, that was a savings too! Besides, the preacher mentioned something about the baby not being able to grow older because of an unbreakable Satanic spell. It was good business sense to buy quality if you expected something to last.

"The poor little Dear must have had a terrible time among the Satanists to have reacted that way to a simple baby bath", Krystyn's adoptive mother thought as she would tuck the tike's feet into the infant-style sleeping bag with long sleeves and a zippered bag for her torso and legs beneath her waist. Her adoptive mother would carefully work the cotton mittens over the infant's hands so she wouldn't scratch herself with her sharp baby nails while she was sleeping. Then she would switch on the battery powered mobile with multiple levels of miniature winged angels whose piezoelectric speaker sang lullaby-like hosannas in God's praise that had been recorded in its ROM. Since her mother would feed her before giving the baby her bath, the baby would sleep through the night without further incident.

Even the most pleasant of pleasures of babyhood would become a frightening foreshadowing of the foulness and evil that awaited her at her death. She would know no pleasure in her life; only pain, grief and sorrow. Her belief in her eternal damnation into the foulest place that her inventive mind could imagine would insure that her life would be a living Hell for Krystyn. Thus, the Coven punished foolish and disobedient members that it discovered within its own bosom.

With a motion from her hand, Becky caused her minions to disperse to their appointed duties. She felt badly about losing a promising apprentice, but then, that was the way of the world. "There will be other's," she thought as she wrapped her cloak around her and dissolved into the last mist of the early morning.

The next morning, Andrew gurgled happily as a beam of sunlight bore it's way through the closed curtains and struck the crib sheet. The crib had a light air feel with turned white spindles around all sides so he could see everything in the room from where he sat in his crib. To protect him, there was a one-inch thick padded bumper tied to the bottom of the rails on each of the four sides of the crib so he wouldn't slip his arms and feet between the spindles as he slept. The room was bright and cheery with a matching white furniture against light powder blue walls with contrasting white woodwork. Circumscribing the nursery, there was a decorative, baby blue, eight-inch-wide strip of plastized wallpaper border set at waist height with small pictures of Winnie-the-Poo gamboling with his friends Eeyor and Piglet. all the way around the room. Everywhere he looked, there was something pleasant and homey to delight him. The floor of the nursery was neatly picked up, with all of his toys in the large toy box that sat underneath the window sill. Next to his toy box stood his walker/activity chair with baby blue cushions with small white pokadots. In the corner of the room, where his beloved Mommy had fed him before tucking him in the night before, was a large white painted wooden rocking chair with a receiving blanket draped over the back of the chair. Directly across from his crib was a matching white, sturdy open-shelved style diaper changing table with its shelves stocked high with diaper changing necessities.

Even the tall white diaper pail sitting beside the changing station had a brown teddy bear face on the side of the pail smiling lovingly back at Andrew. Teddy bears seemed to abound in his new nursery; the drapes were navy blue lightproof flannel (so he could take naps even in the brightest sunshine) with a teddy bear motif that matched the rest of the room. Over his crib hung a Winnie-the-Poo mobile and a Winnie-the-Poo nightlamp sat next to the clear acrylic container full of bulb-type pacifiers that he loved so much on top of the four-drawered dresser next to his crib. Andrew could never remember being happier in his life. He snatched at the sunbeam as his Mommy came through the door to change him and give him his breakfast. Forgetting the ray of sunshine, his face lit up as Allie walked into the room and cooed a good morning to her little baby boy. Andrew reached his arms up and waited to be taken into the warmth and comfort of his Mommy's bosom. She patted the bottom of his dirty diaper gaily and said, "My! Mommy's baby is more than a little poopy this morning, isn't he? Let's get little Andy into a clean diaper and then he can have his breakfast. Okay, Sweetiepie?"

Andrew gurgled his total agreement and let her take care of the cleanup of his crotch and bottom before she sat down with him in the rocking chair and opened her blouse. She was so thankful that Krystyn had suggested that she see her gynecologist and ask for medications to begin nursing before she adopted little Andy. By the time she got him home from the Mall, her breasts were full of milk and he was hungry. At first he had seemed hesitant, but after she had brushed his cheeks with her fingertips and then stroked the side of his face with her inch-high erectile nipple, his face had turned toward her and taken the teat in his mouth. The feeling that had passed between them at the moment of his first suckling had bound the two of them together for life. When the first jet of warm milk hit the back of Andrew's throat and made it's way to his tummy, Andrew forgot his previous life and concentrated on the reality of the mother's love that was before him. He knew instinctively that she would care for him for the rest of his life. He had no worries or responsibilities. Andrew had finally found the proper woman to love, nurture and care for him for the rest of his life; his Mommy.