Jealous

I leaned into Jack’s office, smiling as I saw that he was still sitting at the desk. He had built this company pretty much single handedly. It was a start-up he created while still at uni.  He’d run it out of his tiny student flat at the beginning, just him and his laptop.  He’d done well enough to get his parents and some of their friends to invest after he graduated and from there things really kicked off.  

By the age of twenty-five Jack had his own office, had bought a house and had fully paid back all his initial investors.  He had a staff of ten, and I was one of them.  He’d brought me in straight from uni myself.  I had no experience but that didn’t bother Jack, not one bit.  He’d started with no experience after all.  I appreciated the chance to prove myself and I worked hard for him.  Jack had given everyone here a chance and we owed him so much.  

When he came down with the virus we wondered how on Earth we would be able to go forward without him at the helm.  Luckily his number two, Martin, had stepped up and kept the company on track. I won’t lie, it was touch and go for a bit and I honestly considered putting out my CV to some of the competitors.  But we made it through in the end and I’m glad I stayed. It’s more than just a job. We’re kind of like a family, having been through so much together.  

So it was natural that Jack continued to be a part of our lives.  Today his girlfriend, Alissa, brought him into the office for a visit.  Naturally he went straight to his old office and Martin was nice enough to work out of a desk on the main floor while Jack took over his old space.  

I looked at the twenty-nine year old sitting in his swivel chair, busy with his “work” on his desk. Jack was never a shirt and tie kind of guy, that didn’t really fit the tech industry expectation. But he always dressed smart casual and as the company did well his wardrobe got more expensive. He always had a flashy watch, fashionable shoes or sneakers at least.  Now he was sitting there in a light blue singlet with Looney Tunes characters Daffy and Bugs Bunny adorning the front.  He had matching blue athletic shorts and the most surprising thing to me was that Alissa had brought him to the office barefoot.  Now, sitting in the big chair, I could see the soles of his feet were dark and tough looking, like this was his normal state.  Jack was scribbling studiously with a red crayon, filling in a colouring book.  A dozen other crayons were spilled across the desk, a few toy cars abandoned on the carpeted floor.   

I looked at my former boss, totally absorbed in a child’s colouring book and I felt an overwhelming sense of... jealousy.  It was hard enough being an Adult Baby before all of this. I’d had to hide my true desires, pretend to be like everyone else. Even my long time girlfriend, Melissa, had no idea that I harboured these weird, secret desires.  I got my fill of the scene online, chatting with others who were like me, checking out their photos but of course never posting any of my own.  I couldn’t take that risk. Back then it was those others who I was jealous of, those men and women brave enough to share images of themselves in diapers, in toddler and baby clothing, sucking their thumbs, playing with their toes, jerking off into their soft, cushy diapies.  

The virus had changed everything.  All around me people were suddenly living out my fantasy, the dream I had nurtured since I was probably about six years old myself.  I suddenly saw grown men and women wandering around in diapers not just online, but at the supermarket, in the mall, toddling along the street.  And there were more and more of them. I’d pass a whole line of them holding rings on a rope, being led on a walk from a daycare.  The playground of the primary school I passed on the way to work each morning suddenly had six foot tall students mixed in with the little kids, playing like their equals.  Mall toilets got permanent, huge changing stations, just like I’d imagined years ago, and sometimes you’d enter the toilets and hear them being used, the giggles of a grown baby man or woman, the cooing of their caregiver.  

All of that happened, but not to me.  I took no precautions, not that any were known to work anyway.  But in the time since the virus hit, I was still 100% mentally adult.  How unfair was that?  It was painful for me, to see these people living out my fantasy.  Online others complained about the same thing. But at least some of them had suddenly stopped posting and I knew they’d probably got their wish.  

I looked back down at Jack’s bare toes wiggling in the carpet.  I wanted so desperately to be barefoot like him, to be walking around the office like that. And the soles of his feet were just like I wanted mine.  Not because I had a foot fetish or because I really liked the feeling of being barefoot.  No, but because of what it meant.  Before the virus we’d already had a barefoot culture. Some adults normally walked around barefoot pretty much everywhere.  But it was always a tradition strongly tied to childhood. Kids were basically expected to be barefoot.  

But after the virus that tie to childhood became an important way to indicate the person was mentally a child. It became much less acceptable for adults to walk around that way, lest they be mistaken for children.  And for the grown-downs, it became almost obligatory.  I wanted bare feet like Jack’s because when people saw them they just knew instantly that you were little, that you were just a child. And what’s more they meant you’d lost your adult concerns, that you didn’t mind people seeing you as a little boy or girl.  And now Jack had that, he was one of those grown-downs I so envied.  

“Hey there Jack, you making us some artwork?” I asked him brightly, using the tone I reserved for little kids. 

Jack looked up from his colouring and nodded seriously.  “I’m gettin’ gooder at stayin’ in the lines, see!” he announced, holding it up to show me the monkey sketch he was colouring in.  

“Oh yeah, you’re doing a really good job buddy,” I assured him. 

“I’m a good cowourer. Mummy says so,” he told me.  

“You sure are.  Do you like being back in your old office?” I asked him. 

“I was in charge,” he told me, nodding.  “I runned everything.”  

“You sure did,” I agreed with a chuckle.  

“I want juithe!” he suddenly announced.  

“Well, I’ll see if we have any.” 

“Apple! Or gwape,” he ordered.  

“Guess you’re still in charge after all,” I noted quietly, leaving him to resume his colouring.  

**

To the other employees Jack was to be pitied. They saw a man sadly reduced to colouring with crayons instead of working up complex plans for the business.  They saw him padding around the office in bare feet and a cartoon print singlet and shook their heads sadly.  But I saw the smile on his face, the innocence and simplicity in his eyes.  He looked comfortable in his new outfit, so what did it matter if it was less dignified?  

After work I headed over to Sunny Days Daycare centre to pick Liam up.  Taking care of him was at once one of the highlights of my life and the greatest source of pain.  Liam was Melissa’s older brother.  He was thirty now and had previously lived overseas in the UK, working for a bank.  I don’t know what he did exactly, and he wasn’t going to be able to describe his work now anyways.  He’d had the virus late last year. He wasn’t in a relationship and since he wasn’t a UK citizen, they sent him home.  His parents were too old to take proper care of such a big child, so Melissa agreed to take him in, raise him again.  

Liam’s regression had been swift, he’d returned home already fully regressed.  I’d only met him once before, when he came home for a Christmas visit three years ago.  I remembered him as a well-dressed, intelligent guy who was perhaps a tad arrogant in fact.  He came home a six-foot tall two year old.  He was the embodiment of my dreams and I was living with him, caring for him. 

Sunny Days was a chain of care centres, split into locations for physical children and for adult toddlers and preschoolers.  So the centre Liam was in was dedicated to people like him, grown-ups with a mental age between 2 and 5 years.  His group, Little Lambs, was the youngest ones, the two year old.  The woman who ran the centre, Louise, was a kindly older lady with silver hair and a perpetual welcoming smile.  As always she was by the door when I arrived.  

“Oh hello Brad, lovely to see you again. Having a good day?” she greeted. 

“Yes, thank you Louise. And has Liam been good for you today?” 

“Oh yes, he’s always wonderful.” 

“I know he can be cheeky at times.” 

“Cheeky is what little boys are meant to be. He’s no trouble at all.  We went for a little nature walk earlier and he very much enjoyed seeing some birds.”  

“He really does love birds,” I agreed.  

She nodded. “Well, come in. They’re just finishing up some finger painting.”  

I followed Louise into the Little Lambs room, finding the ten men and women there all standing around a table in the middle of the room.  Big pieces of canvas paper were spread across it along with trays of varying coloured paints.  Several of the young men and women wore dirty, paint smudged smocks over their clothes to protect them. But four of the big toddlers were completely naked and my heart did a flutter when I saw that Liam was one of them.  

I tried my best not to appear to be leering at the two bare breasted women. Of course they didn’t mind, they were smiling innocently, smacking their palms in the purple and red paint trays and smearing it first on the canvas and then on their own bare boobs and tummies, giggling away at their silly fun.  It was Louise and Marge, the teacher in charge of the Little Lambs, who I didn’t want to get the wrong idea about me. 

I focused instead on Liam, on his bare body.  His bottom was a bit dirty actually, not with paint, but with what appeared to be dried dirt.  But he’d gotten plenty of paint on himself as well. It was on his tummy, and his arms and yes smeared across his chin and cheeks too.  

“Don’t worry, it’s all water-based paint, it will come out in a simple bath,” Marge assured when she saw me staring.  

“Oh, that’s fine,” I assured her. “I’m not worried.  Just noticing there weren’t quite enough smocks I guess.”  

“Oh no, we have plenty of those. But some of the children prefer to be in their birthday suits for painting. They like to paint their bodies too. And we let them explore. It’s developmentally appropriate,” Louise assured. 

“Oh, of course. I was only joking, I’ve got no problem with it,” I told her.  

I definitely didn’t have a problem with it. On the contrary, I was hard as could be in my pants, just hoping the bulge wouldn’t be obvious.  It was so exciting, and yet again it was tempered with jealousy.  

“I guess Liam was pretty happy not to need a smock. I know how he can be.”  

Louise added, “Well actually Liam was already out of his clothes earlier. He wanted to do the nature walk au naturel you see.  And since it was just out the back and very private, I decided it would be okay.  But if that’s an issue for you…” 

“As long as he’s comfy I’m perfectly fine with that,” I told her.  

“Lovely. It’s really all about their comfort. Many little ones just completely lose their modesty and personally I think it’s adorable,” she said. 

I couldn’t have agreed more.  Just picturing Liam walking around the woods with his doodle bouncing free was making me want to get my own doodle out.  

I put my hand on Liam’s bare back.  “Hey buddy, you having fun?” I asked him. 

The young man gave me a lovely innocent smile. I loved seeing his relaxed, childish expression.  

“Makin’ pitchas,” he told me, rubbing his paint-covered hands on the canvas, then reaching down and gripping his soft, dangling penis with one hand.  The paint was slick and lubricating and as he began to stroke it only took seconds for the flaccid doodle to stand up at attention.  Liam’s breathing quickened and I saw the pleasure in his eyes. But we were still in public so I chided him, “Not here Liam. Leave your silly doodle alone buddy,” and gave his wrist a light slap.  

He let go of his pee-pee, though it was now fully painted deep green.  

“Happy doodle,” he tried to explain to me.  

“I know buddy, it’s very happy,” I agreed, looking down at what was an impressive erection.  “You got your doodle all covered in paint!” 

Liam grinned and declared, “Awll icky ‘nd methy!”  

“We’ll have to give you a really good bath tonight.”  

“Wid bubbahs?” he asked hopefully. 

“Well we’ll have to see,” I told him.  

We found his clothes in his cubby and he stood still for at least a moment while I slipped the underoos, white with blue piping and decorated with Minions, up his legs.  Getting Liam to be still was quite a challenge these days. He was continuously squirming, fidgeting, filled with curiosity and energy.  Next came his shorts, simply blue boardies with no pockets. He had nothing to cary of course, no wallet, no keys. 

Once the shorts were snugly on I stuffed the remaining t-shirt into my own bag. Liam was often shirtless when I arrived and I never bothered putting it back on him. Really the t-shirt was just for the morning, for making sure Melissa and Louise didn’t think I was a bad parent.  

“All dressed. Thank you for being a good boy and staying still,” I told Liam.  

“Good boy fow da-dee,” Liam answered.  

I loved being called Daddy.  I opened my arms wide and Liam instantly responded by throwing his arms around me and giving me a cuddle.  I don’t know if there was anything I enjoyed more than having a cuddle with Liam.  He was just so loving, so unguarded with his affection.  He squeezed so tight, gave his everything.  I rubbed my hands along his bare back, cooed to him, “There’s my cuddle-bug.”  

“Notta buggy! Wiam boy!” he replied with a cheerful giggle, knowing it was just a game.  

“Oh of course,” I played along, pulling slightly back from our cuddle, but still with my arms around him, looking him over as if to check he wasn’t really a bug.  “Yes, yes, definitely a little boy, not a bug. No bug is this cute,” I told him. 

Liam chortled and squirmed in my arms. He loved when I played these silly games with him.  I stroked my hand through his soft hair and planted a kiss on his forehead.  Then it was time to go.  Liam waved his bye-byes to his classmates, and Marge and Louise, then off we went.  It was mid-afternoon and the sun was baking down on the pavement of the footpath.  Holding his hand tightly, I watched Liam padding along beside me, his bare feet smacking along the pavement without any hesitation.  

“Your feeties okay buddy? It isn’t too hot for bare feets?” I checked. 

Liam shook his head. “Got widdle boy feets, Daddy!” he announced, stopping and doing a single big hop to show me.  

At the beginning when Liam came to live with us Melissa had agreed that her brother should be barefoot as much as possible, but his feet were soft of course. So we had made it a game for him, made it fun, encouraging him to get “Little Boy Feet” that were tough and dirty and nothing like weak grown-ups or clean girls.  We encouraged him to run on gravel, climb trees, anything that got his feet more callused.  There were some tears, some ouchies at first but now Liam never, ever wore shoes, not on rainy winter mornings and not now on hot summer days with scorching pavement.  

“Okay, okay, I know buddy. Daddy just wanted to make sure.”  

Liam hopped again, just to prove his point, then grabbed his foot, balancing on the other with the held of my supporting hand, showing my the sole of the one in his hand. “Lookit Daddy!” he urged.  

I nodded. “Yes Liam, you have the very toughest and ickiest of little boy feet that I’ve ever seen.”  

“You gots soft feet!” he told me, letting his foot go. “Gotta wear soos.  Wiam no soos!”  

I was more jealous than ever as Liam skipped along beside me.  I was a grown-up, and he was just the very happiest, the cutest little boy.  

**

Back at home I gave Liam his promised bubble bath.  He played with his action figures and some floating blocks while I did all the work of scrubbing his body clean.  I even did the best I could on the soles of his feet.  He giggled his head off naturally as they were very ticklish.  I got the top layer of dirt off, but the rest seemed permanently ingrained now.  But at least the paint was easier to remove. At the end I took a gentle washcloth to Liam’s penis, carefully rubbing the green paint away. Slowly his penis began to lengthen and jerk upwards in the warm, sudsy water.  Liam slopped splashing his toy in the water and began to look down at my cleaning.  After a moment he leant forward and whispered, “Daddy, I need stickies.”  

I stopped rubbing his doodle and gave his wet cheek a pat.  “I know buddy, but that needs to wait for now. You play with your toys.”  

Liam pouted but said, “Kay,” and went back to splashing while I finished the cleaning.  

Finally the water was getting cool and the paint was mostly off so I pulled the plug and helped my boy into a big thirsty towel.  We got him all dried off and he was again smooth and clean and innocent looking.  We’d had the procedure to remove all his body hair done, so he looked more appropriate.  

“I don’t think we need any more clothes for today, do we?” I asked him once he was dry. 

Liam shook his head instantly. I always asked him that question, even though we both knew the answer was always the same. Liam absolutely loved being nude.  He’d stay nakey until bed time.  Melissa had been hesitant about it early on. But she soon agreed with me that he was in a better mood, easier to deal with and less likely to create a pile of laundry that way.  Of course for me, I just loved seeing him running around the house with that big bare bottom, seeing his doodle bouncing around when he played.  

Liam threw his arms around me then for another impromptu cuddle.  The only thing better than a Liam cuddle, was a naked Liam cuddle.  I snuggled him right back and shivered with delight when he said, “Love you da-dee,” totally unprompted.  

“Aww, I love you more than anything in the world buddy,” I told him, giving his smooth bare bum-bum a pat and then pecking a kiss on his cheek.  

**

Melissa was late coming home from work.  It wasn’t that unusual, she had a demanding job.  I couldn’t really complain, seeing as she made a lot more than I did.  We only had this place because of her income.  Don’t get me wrong, she was no workaholic, but she took her career seriously and put in the hours she needed to stand out and get promoted.  

“Sorry babe,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor and coming in for a hug as I prepared dinner.  

“Hey, you made it before I could get dinner on the table. I think that’s a win,” I told her, cuddling her as close as I could with a spoon and a salt shaker in my hands.  

“Where’s the kiddo?” she asked when I returned to stirring the soup.  

“I have no idea. He’s completely disappeared,” I told her, while silently pointing the spoon over to the kitchen table.  There it was easy to see the pair of adult bare feet just sticking out from under a chair.  

Melissa nodded and smiled.  “Well I hope he shows up before dinner is ready, or I’ll just have to eat his portion too,” she announced.  

The chair jerked sharply backwards and out came Liam, down on his hands and knees, giggling as he announced, “I hewe Mummy!” 

Melissa had found it really awkward to have her brother refer to her that way at first, but it had become second nature now.  

“Oh my! And I was looking forward to eating all that yummy food,” she declared. 

“No! Daz mine Mummy!” the grown toddler insisted, dropping to his bottom on the floor, soles of his feet pressed together.  

“Okay, okay. I know you need all your food so you can be so big and strong,” she agreed. 

Liam nodded and said, “Wiam widdle, but Wiam big!”  

Melissa indulged him of course. She was a really good Mum in fact, much better than she thought she was going to be back at the start.  She made sure Liam ate all his food that night, even the “icky” broccoli he hated.  She cut the stalks into little broccoli men and paired them with tasty cheese.  Watching her sit next to him patting his bare back so gently, running her hand through his hair and cooing such gentle encouragement to him I was again overwhelmed with jealousy.  

Sure, Melissa was my partner, she went to bed with me, did all sorts of things with me that of course she’d never do with Liam.  But the love she had for him was different. I wanted that so, so badly.  I watched her clean his face and hands with some baby wipes after he finished eating. He was a messy eater of course, and mostly tried to eat with his fingers rather than the utensils.  Later she would help him brush his teeth before bed, help him step into his night-time pull-ups, tuck him into bed and then lie down next to him and read him a story.  We alternated nights for that role. I enjoyed doing it of course, but I loved watching Melissa put our little guy to nighty-nights.  She did silly voices for the characters, let him turn the pages so he felt involved, gave him a huge cuddle and a kiss on the forehead when it was time to turn off the lights.  

Afterwards we sat in bed together. There was no bedtime ritual for me of course. We looked at our phones, or watched some late-night comedy TV most nights.  At least twice a week we had sex.  It wasn’t as passionate as when we first began dating of course, but it was still pretty good.  But honestly, I wanted to be tucked into bed by her far more.  

**

The next morning Melissa got up early and headed off for a bike ride and lunch with a group of her friends.  That meant I was watching Liam until the afternoon, then she’d be home and I’d have free time to play poker at Craig’s place in the evening.  The only problem with that was that I was meant to be buying a gift for the birthday party we were attending the next day, so I would have to take Liam with me to the mall.  

It wasn’t that easy to shop with a toddler, especially not a six-foot tall one who could easily run off into a crowd or break things while innocently exploring or trying to play impromptu hide and seek in an expensive store.  Of course Liam absolutely loved the mall. It was a feast for his senses.  It wasn’t ordinary or mundane like it was for me. There were even rides for him, with flashing lights and noises and he could pretend to be driving just like he did when he was big.  

So I had to keep him on a short leash. And I mean that very literally.  I’d always shaken my head at those parents who put their little kids on leashes like they were puppies.  But now I had at least some sympathy for them. But honestly I don’t know if I’d use them on a real toddler, a physical one that is.  But for an adult tot like Liam, there was just no other option.  I had felt so guilty the first time I fitted the child harness around his arms, buckled it over his chest.  But he’d been oblivious to the humiliation of wearing such a device. He didn’t mind being put in it anymore than he minded Daddy choosing his shirt for him and putting it on him.  

I always chose cute shirts for my little guy anyway.  Today it announced that he was “Daddy’s Best Helper!” The green t-shirt was paired with some baggy board shorts over his pull-ups.  I kept a tight hold on his leash and held him back as the poor little guy got distracted by the shiny colours in some of the shops and tried to wander off to see them up close, to feel the things, probably to jam them in his mouth and taste them.  

But generally he was okay for me.  He behaved in return for a ride in a little toy rocket ship.  As the simple thing moved slowly back and forth and made blast off noises Liam gripped the steering wheel intensely, grinning ear to ear like it was a real rocket he was piloting.  At the end of the shopping I took him over to the adult children’s play area next to the food-court, so he could have some fun.  I unbuckled the leash from his harness and let him run free, within the confines of the play area.  

All around me other regressed adults played, climbing the multi-coloured structure, teetering on see-saws, screeching down a tiny little slide.  But even as I was meant to be watching Liam, I noticed another man in the play area, a man I knew instantly.  

Mike was one of the very few people from the AB world who I had actually met in person.  We had three playdates in fact, back before the virus hit, before things got crazy for me.  We had stayed in touch through a messaging app for a bit, but I’d lost touch with him a year ago.  And now there he was, playing in the children’s area.  Mike had always wanted to be a toddler, a diaper-wearing, barely walking little tyke.  We had taken turns being the big brother or Daddy when we played and so I knew a lot of what he most enjoyed.  So it was surprising to see how he was now.  

Mike was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt, partially obscured by the bib which was fixed around his neck, covering the front of the shirt.  Below that he wore a diaper and nothing else.  There were no pants, no shorts to give him any privacy, to leave any doubt that he was a complete diaper-wetting baby.  His legs and feet were smooth and hairless and bare.  His diaper was thick and covered in balloon designs.  It was unmistakably a diaper and not a pull-up.  

My instant thought was that he was faking his regression.  I mean, it had to be, didn’t it?  What were the chances he got the type of virus that made him exactly his dream age?  I mean I certainly couldn’t blame him.  I had thought about it myself.  It would be the ultimate thrill.  But the fear of screwing up, of getting caught, scared the hell out of me.  Would I really be able to act consistently and convincingly enough to get away with it?  Those fears had always stopped me.  But evidently they hadn’t been enough to stop Mike.  

I wondered if he was here alone or if someone else was in on it, playing his caretaker.  There was really only one way to find out and I had to know.  Mike wasn’t inside the main play structure, it was too advanced for a little one like him.  He was instead standing before a giant noughts and crosses board, one where the x’s and o’s could be chosen by spinning the tiles.  But he wasn’t playing any organised game. No he was just standing there, legs wide apart, forced that way by the thick diaper, smacking at the tiles, making them spin over and over. He had a slack, vacant expression on his face, his mouth agape, chin shining with drool as it dribbled unheeded onto the quite wet bib over his chest.  Every so often he gave an open-mouthed grin and giggled cheerfully.  

Standing right behind him I whispered, “Hi there Mikey,” using his preferred baby name.  

Hearing his name, he twisted around, looking at me with these glazed over eyes.  

“You remember me don’t you?” I said to him.  “It’s Brad, Baby Brad,” I whispered.  

Mikey didn’t show any sign of recognition.  His hand smacked at the tiles again, spinning two at random.  “Ba! Ahhhoooh!” he babbled at me.  

I had played with Mikey in his baby state multiple times, but I’d never seen him act like this.  I mean when he played baby before it was pretty clearly an act. Sure he did his best, but he broke character too often and he didn’t even attempt to babble or anything like that. He just stayed silent rather than attempt baby talk.  This, this looked totally different.  His eyes were just so vacant looking, his whole expression was moronic.  

“Mikey, are you pretending to be regressed?” I whispered to him. “It’s okay, I’m not going to tell on you or anything,” I assured.  

He gave no inkling of comprehension. Instead his fingers slipped into his mouth and he sucked on them, drooling even more and babbling, “Eeehdoohdaaaa,” around them.  

“Is everything okay?”  

The voice took me off guard, so close behind me, so sharp.  I turned around to find a suspicious looking woman behind me. How much of my conversation with Mike had she heard? 

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry but I just recognise Mike,” I told her.  

Her expression softened right away.  “Oh, did you know him?”  

“Yes, I mean, I knew him before he, uh…” 

“Before he became a little baby boy again,” she finished for me.  

I blushed. “Yeah.”  

“Well I’m afraid Mikey won’t be doing any catching up with you. Poor little darling has the mind of a one year old now, as you can probably see.”  

“I do… it’s just…” I trailed off. Was I really going to tell her about my darkest secrets? Did I need to know for sure that badly?  Everything told me to stop, but the need to know was too great.  

“Are you his caretaker then?” I asked her when she looked thoroughly confused by my stuttering.  

“Oh yes, I’m Jenna and yeah, I’m his Mummy now,” she answered. 

“And, um, did you know him well before?”  

She chuckled. “Well I was his girlfriend for a year, so I certainly hope so.”  

She was his girlfriend, but did she know of his secret desires? Some guys were open about it. Others, like me, kept it deeply hidden.  

“I knew Mike from some websites we both frequented actually. They were sort of, um, special interest sites, about, um, do you know what ABDL means?” 

My heart was in my throat as I spoke the acronym.  If she said no, if she looked confused, I’d have to come up with some alternative name. What else could ABDL stand for? The options were racing through my mind.  

But it wasn’t confusion on her face, it was recognition.  

“Oh. You mean, you enjoyed those sites too?” she asked. 

Now I was really on thin ice. Did she mean, oh are you a dirty perv like my ex over here was?  Or did she understand him? Was she accepting of it?  If I admitted it I’d find out soon enough which it was.  But that was a huge risk.  Was it worth it?  

“I, um, well, yeah, I guess I did,” I whispered.  

“Were you a Daddy or a baby?” she asked me directly, also whispering now.  

She knew what the sites were about.  She knew and she wasn’t sounding disgusted, she sounded interested!

“I was a baby,” I admitted, feeling so, so strange telling someone that in person, telling a stranger I’d only just met.  

She smiled, and not in a cruel way.  “Then you must be in your element here,” she suggested. 

I laughed nervously. “Well yeah, but I’m not really getting to enjoy it properly like Mikey.  He puts on a hell of an act,” I said, noticing he still hadn’t broken character at all.  He was now chewing, gnawing at the dirty plastic corner of one of the spinning tiles, ignoring our conversation.  

But Jenna shook her head.  “Oh no, it’s not an act.  Mikey’s a little baby boy now, for real.” 

My eyes had to have gone wide as saucers.  “Really? He got the virus, the exact type he would have wanted?” I asked, incredulous.  

Jenna glanced around worriedly.  “It’s not that simple.  Look I’d love to tell you more, but this isn’t the place to do it.  Could you meet me somewhere tomorrow morning if I give you directions?”  

“Well, I have a busy day tomorrow. How early?”  

“Say ten? I’m sorry but it really would have to be then,” she answered. 

“I… yeah, I’ll be there. But you need to tell me where to go.”  

“Give me your e-mail and I’ll send you the directions.  Look, if you’re at all still into that scene, you need to come,” she told me as I wrote down my email on a napkin and handed it to her.

With that she took Mikey’s hand, leading him out of the play area. I watched him toddle wide-legged along to a big push-chair, which she strapped him into and pushed away.  What was I getting myself into?  

**

I spent the night wondering what was going on here.  As soon as I woke up I grabbed my phone from the bed stand and checked my emails.  Sure enough the email from Jenna was there.  I could have ignored it, but deep down I knew that wasn’t an option. This was something I had to follow up or I’d be wondering about it forever.  So I made up an excuse about last minute shopping and headed off on my own to the meeting.  

Jenna had sent me directions to cafe half an hour from my place.  When I arrived I spotted her instantly, but noted she was sitting with another woman.  Both of them were looking at me expectantly and I wondered if this other woman was the reason for the meeting needing to be now.  

As I headed over to their table I noticed there was a small play area for children in the corner of the cafe, stocked with some simple toys.  Mikey was there, sitting on his bottom in a fluffy blue and white onesie, banging a plastic shovel against some blocks. But he wasn’t alone. Another young man was also down on his hands and knees, wearing bright red shortalls over a yellow t-shirt.  They weren’t playing together though, just next to each other.  The other fellow was busy with some blocks of his own, scooting them along the floor like toy cars.  

“Have a seat,” Jenna said.  “This is a bit awkward, but I don’t think we’ve ever actually been formally introduced.” 

I blushed as I sat down, realising I’d never even told her my name. I was just so focused on Mikey the other day.  “Oh, yeah. I’m Brad,” I told her.  

“Lovely. Well, you know I’m Jenna and this is my friend Eva.”  

The other woman was a bit older than us.  She looked to be in her late thirties, brown hair cut short, wearing activewear that suggested she was heading to the gym, or perhaps just wanted people to think she was heading there.  

“It’s nice to meet you,” I told her.  

“Lovely to meet you as well, Brad,” she replied.  “I think you already noticed my little one, playing with Mikey.  His name is Danny.  He’s a baby boy too, just like you honey,” she told me.  

My heart fluttered.  Just like me, she said.  Of course she knew, Jenna would have told her. I knew that walking in, but it was still jarring, still thrilling, to hear it.  I’d never been sitting with two people who both knew my secret.  

“They look very sweet, don’t they?” Eva said, gesturing to the two big babies playing in the corner. 

“Um, yes, they do,” I agreed. 

“You’d love to join them, wouldn’t you? Be down on your hands and knees playing instead of sitting here chatting with us grown-ups,” she suggested. 

No one head ever verbalised by secret desires so boldly.  I honestly was lost for words. But that didn’t seem to matter, my silence, my lack of a denial, was more than enough to confirm the truth.  Eva nodded and went on.  “We’re still waiting for one more. Why don’t you go join the other boys and play until we’re all here.”  

I just blinked, trying to take in what she was saying. Go join the other boys.  Go play in a toy corner meant for toddlers, for a preschooler at best.  To do that here in public, in this cafe filled with people.  Normally it would have been impossible, but now, in this new situations, it was actually a choice.  

Jenna put her hand on my arm.  “Go on sweetie, it’s okay,” she assured me with the gentlest of smiles. “We know you want to play too.”  

I did. I really did. Slowly I nodded and started to push my chair back.  

“Hold on sweetie,” Eva stopped me though. “First you’ll need to just slip those shoes and socks off under the table.” 

I stopped.  She was right.  Little boys who played in the toy corner didn’t wear grown-up shoes.  I toed them off under the table, then before I could lean down to grab them I felt Eva taking my feet into her hands, pulling them up to her lap and peeling off my socks one at a time, even giving me a gentle tickle across my now bare soles, making me giggle involuntarily.  

“There we go, much better, much more appropriate for a little boy,” she cooed to me, like I was a actually a dumb little kid.  

With that I got up and began to walk to the play area.  Their table was right by the door, so I had to cross the whole cafe, past many full tables.  I was suddenly and fully aware of the sensation of the smooth, cool floor under my bare feet.  It was so strange to be barefoot in public like this.  I was still wearing my normal t-shirt and khakis cargo shorts, but with the removal of my shoes and socks I had been reduced in status to early childhood in an instant.  Other customers glanced down at my feet and knew that I was headed not to the toilet, but to the toy corner, to the place little boys belonged.  

Mikey looked up at me with those wide, vacant eyes, chewing on the end of his yellow plastic shovel as I arrived at the toy corner.  I knelt down onto my hands and knees right next to him.  I’d been in toy corners at cafes plenty of times, but always with Liam, always to supervise his play. Now, with my shoes gone, I wasn’t an adult supervisor, I was another child needing the supervision.  I felt a thrill just roll through my body at that thought.  Then I grabbed a Tonka dump truck and started to roll it around, started to make little engine noises for it.  

I pushed my truck around Mikey, ignoring him, focusing on my own play.  I glanced up after a moment, looking up at the tables of adults chatting away, sipping their drinks, their coffee and tea, eating their fancy salads while I played at their feet.  No one was paying me any attention, I was just another little kid.  It was exhilarating.  

I was quite enjoying my simple game of pushing the toy truck around, until a pair of hands quite suddenly grabbed the front of my toy and yanked it away from me.  Danny was kneeling before me now, the toy in his grasp.  “Mine!” he insisted with a look of determination on his face.

I’d seen this plenty of times while watching Liam. Some toddler would snatch a toy away and tears would be the result. I would have to intervene and explain the need to share.  But I couldn’t do that this time. I was powerless to use my adult authority. I could only snatch the toy back if I wanted it, use brute force. But that would definitely cause tears, cause a tantrum even.  And that was attention I didn’t need.  So I had to let the toy go, move on to some blocks in a little pile nearby.  

I stacked them but also watched Danny enjoying my toy truck.  I wondered if he was like Mikey, a real baby boy now.  Had he been an Adult Baby before? Had something been done to him, something unnatural, to make him this way?  He certainly didn’t seem to be acting either.  And any doubts about that were wiped away when he stopped pushing the truck and rose to a squat, gaping slack-jawed into the distance for a moment.  Then he blinked and declared, “Uh-oh!” before standing up and toddling wide-legged over to the table.  

The fully grown man in bright red shortalls grabbed Eva’s arm and yanked it.  “Poopy!” he declared, loud enough for me to hear him in the toy corner.  

“What a big boy you are, letting Mummy know,” she praised him.  As she took him to the toilets, led him along by the hand with a huge grin on his face, I knew that he wasn’t acting.  

At least that meant I could reclaim my prized toy, grabbing the truck and beginning to drive it around again.  But the toy corner got a bit more crowded then as two girls appeared. Well one was actually a little girl. She looked to be maybe eight or nine, wearing a pink glittery t-shirt and knee-length capris and padding along on bare feet she still looked a bit old to be playing here.  But the adult woman holding her hand was a different matter. The woman was wearing a short-sleeved light green dress that fell just below her knees.  But, like the little girl, she was barefoot and more importantly she had a pacifier in her mouth and was suckling happily away at it.  It was clear the little girl was the one doing the leading here.  This four foot tall, pig-tailed, barefooted little girl was the one in charge.  

“Look Sally they have blocks,” she cooed to the fully grown woman beside her.  

The woman had been gazing off blankly at the wall, paying no attention to where she was being led until now.  But with this she smiled around her binkie and made a pleasant cooing noise.  

“Come on silly girl, let’s play,” the little girl urged her.  

The woman, Sally, dropped to her bottom, legs splayed apart so that her thick diaper was fully visible as she grabbed at the blocks. She didn’t seem to notice or care though, her sense of modesty was nonexistent of course.  The little girl with her simply looked after her, offered her new toys to play with, complimented her on being a good girl for not jamming blocks in her mouth, picked up her binkie from the floor when it inevitably dropped.  

“Oopsie, dropped your dummy,” the girl cooed as the woman gaped up at her with slack lips, drool dribbling down her chin until the pacifier was re-inserted to her waiting mouth.   

Then the pig-tailed girl looked down at me and gave me an equally condescending smile.  “You like your truck little boy?” she asked me in the most sickeningly sweet tone.  

It was both humiliating and thrilling to be talked down to by some eight-year old.  All I could do was nod in answer to her question. 

She giggled. “Little boys always love trucks and cars,” she explained, but not as though she expected me to understand.  

“Brad, it’s time to eat sweetie.”  

I looked up to see Jenna was standing in the toy corner now too.  But she wasn’t waiting on Mikey, she was letting him continue to play.  She just wanted me to come, was holding out her hand to me.  I stood up and took her hand, letting Jenna lead me that way back through the cafe.  No one was even giving us a second glance, but I still felt like everyone had to be staring.  

Danny was at the table too now, but he was just colouring aimlessly, scribbling really, with a bunch of crayons and some paper the cafe provided.  He wasn’t my focus anymore. Now it was the other man who had joined us at the table, a fully dressed adult man who was looking right at me.  

“Hello there Brad, my name is Grant. It’s very nice to meet you,” he said.  

He had a kind voice and a warm smile. Part of me was still feeling very awkward about all of this, but I felt comfortable with this new man right away.  He wasn’t much older than me, but he just had a mature vibe that made him seem fatherly.  

“Nice to meet you too,” I answered. 

The two women were watching our exchange happily, though Eva was also busy looking after Danny, patting his back while he coloured, whispering encouragement to him.  She seemed to be a natural mum.  She liked being in control, liked coddling Danny like a little boy.  I wondered if they had been together before, or if Danny had sought out a woman to be his mummy.  

“Would you like some crayons too?” Grant asked, making me realise I’d been staring at the colouring man.  

“Oh… no, that’s okay,” I mumbled, blushing.  

“It’s perfectly fine if you want to. I saw you looked quite happy playing with the other little boys in the toy corner,” Grant noted.  

I had to be red as a tomato now.  I shook my head, not able to make eye-contact.  It felt so, so strange to discuss these things openly.  But Grant pushed forward. Clearly he wasn’t embarrassed at all and he didn’t want me to be either.  

“Brad, my understanding is that you’re like Mikey and Danny.  You like toys, crayons, playing; all that kind of stuff.  Am I mistaken?” he asked. 

“No.  I mean, you’re not mistaken. It’s just… a bit embarrassing for me,” I told him.  

“That’s perfectly fine, I completely understand.  But you should feel comfortable talking with me, with all of us.  Everyone at this table understands. None of us are going to be judging you.  Okay?” 

I nodded, feeling a bit more at ease.  

“Good.  Now Jenna called me and told me that you’d like to come along to our follow-up because you were interested in the same things as Mikey.”  

“Follow-up?” I asked. 

“Yes, this was just going to be a normal follow-up on Mikey and Danny’s treatments, to make sure they were going well.  I like to keep up with my clients like that.  It’s important to me that they’re happy, well-adjusted, everything.  But I was happy to hear you’d be coming along,” Grant explained. 

Treatments? Clients?  Was Grant responsible for the way Mikey and Danny were acting?  If that was the case, my interest in him just went way up.  

“What kind of treatment?” I asked.  

He smiled and patted Danny’s back.  “The kind that has Danny making lovely drawings for us now,” Grant answered.  

So he was the man behind their change.  My heart thudded in my chest, excitement coursing through me at the very thought of being like Danny.  

“I noticed you’re barefoot Brad. Is that normal for you?” he asked. 

“Oh… uh, no, I mean I had shoes on when I got here. But they said I needed them off, to play with… to use the toy corner,” I explained. 

He nodded. “And are you feeling comfy that way? In bare feet I mean.”  

I brushed my soles across the floor. It felt good, both because my feet were free and because it made me feel so little.  “Yeah, it feels good,” I agreed. 

Grant leant closer. “Makes you feel like a little boy?”  

My penis instantly stiffened in my shorts.  “Yeah,” I whispered. 

“Let’s have a look,” he said. I was confused, until I felt him taking my leg in his hands, lifting my foot into his lap. I sat there in awe as the man examined my bare foot, looked it over, then ran his fingers gently across the sole.  I couldn’t help but squirm and giggle. It just really tickled, in a nice way.  

“Yes, these are very soft soles. And your feet are so clean. You understand that wouldn’t last long if you came to me for treatment. Feet like these mark you as an adult, even if you are barefoot.” 

I nodded. “I want little boy feet,” I told him quickly, blushing at my admission.  

He smiled and nodded, letting my foot go.  “Can I ask what age you would like to be?” 

I shivered from head to toe, the adrenaline was rushing through my system so hard now.  “Well, I guess, if I had a choice, I’d be three,” I whispered. 

He nodded and I noticed the women smiling. “A bit bigger than Danny and Mikey then, but still quite young.”

I just nodded. 

“Do you have anyone to care for you? A three-year old is a lot of work. You’d need a Mummy or a Daddy to look after you all the time.” 

I frowned, my heart dropping. How could I ever tell Melissa about my secret desires? She already had Liam to care for and he was a lot of work. There was no way I could ask her to care for me as well, to take care of two giant toddlers all by herself.  I mean, there’s no way she’d agree anyway, so there was no point in asking and exposing myself to that shame. 

“I… I don’t,” I admitted. 

But Grant didn’t look worried, he didn’t tell me to come back when I had someone to be my carer, he just said, “That’s fine, we can always find a carer.” 

I blinked in surprise. “You can?” 

He nodded. “Yes, many people actually want to be Mummies or Daddies to a big little boy like you. If we can’t find one right away we place you with one of my past clients, as a brother I mean, until we have a permanent home.”  

That seemed like a lot of work for him, which begged the question, “How much does this all cost?” 

“My normal fee is twenty-five thousand.” 

It was less than I’d been afraid actually. I had the money in my savings, so that wasn’t an issue. 

“How do you do it? And how long does it take?” I asked. 

“So I take it you are interested then? Really interested?” he asked. 

“I… I am,” I answered with a gulp. 

“Well then, let’s talk business!”

**

Two weeks later I found myself driving to the address Grant had sent to me using a secret, secure email.  I didn’t want Melissa knowing what was going on of course. As far as she knew, I was just going on a business trip. I’d be back next week. Except that I wouldn’t be back, not as she knew me anyway. The next time she saw me, if she ever did again, I’d be like Liam, a complete toddler.  It still made my heart flip-flop to even think about that. What would she say if she saw me that way? What would it be like for me? What would be going through my head if I stood barefoot in front of Melissa?  

It had been so hard saying my good-byes, knowing it was really forever. I had given Liam the biggest, tightest cuddle that morning. Maybe he’d be my playmate some time in the future. Maybe we’d cuddle again, but now as equals.  I knew that was unlikely. Whoever my new carer was, they probably wouldn’t live close by.  

I was going to have a carer, a Mummy or a Daddy. It was a thought that still gave me pause.  

Grant lived in a middle class looking suburb, in an unassuming house behind a thick hedge-row that provided most of the front yard privacy.  I opened the wooden gate, a six-foot tall brown thing, and headed into the garden, leaving my car behind. I felt my keys in my hand. I may never drive again. What would even happen to my car? Odd, I hadn’t even considered that before now.  Too late to worry about it anyway.  

The front yard was like something from a daycare centre. A paddling pool sat in the middle, rubber balls here and there, an open sandbox to the side.  I wondered if this was part of the therapy, playing with kids toys.  Grant had been consistently evasive about what he did exactly, about how long it took. All I knew for sure was the results.  

I stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door.  I heard heavy footsteps hurrying my way. It sounded like someone was actually running to the door. I wondered why Grant was in such a hurry to greet me.  

“I get! I get it!” someone shouted.  

Then the door was flung open and I saw that it wasn’t Grant who had hurried to greet me after all.  It was another man, perhaps thirty years old, an inch or two shorter than me and a bit heavier. He wasn’t fat or anything, just a tiny bit chubby. His hair was cut short, but I could see it was dark.  He was wearing a baggy white t-shirt with a cartoon teddy bear design. It fell below his waist but seemed to be his only clothing item. His legs and feet were bare.  

He had been eager to open the door, but now that he saw me the man went all shy. He blinked wordlessly at me and then slipped two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them while he stared at me with these wide, innocent eyes.  

“Um, hi there. My name is Brad,” I told him, talking the way I would to Liam, to someone with a toddler’s mind.  “What’s your name?” I asked. 

The man grinned, but didn’t remove his fingers as he answered, “I Gweggy.”  

“Well hello there Greggy, it’s very nice to meet you,” I told him. 

Greggy grinned even broader. “Nishe-ta-meet-oo,” he mimicked.  

“That’s right,” I praised him. “And is this your house? Are you in charge here?” I asked. 

Greggy let his fingers slip free as he giggled at my question.  “Noo-oh,” he sing-songed. “Imma widdle boy now! Notta gwown-up. Daddy’s in charge.” 

He was a little boy now. That was an interesting qualifier.  

“Ohhh,” I said. “You’re not a grown-up anymore?” 

He shook his head vigorously.  “Fowgetted howa be big,” he told me. “Daddy make big boy stuff go bye-byes. Fo-eber,” he added.  

As he told me this I couldn’t help but notice the t-shirt he was wearing began to tent out at the bottom. Something was poking at it, and the way he was behaving, his simple vocabulary and mannerisms all led me to feel comfortable simply reaching down and saying to him, “What’s poking out down here?” as I touched his t-shirt. 

Greggy looked down and seemed to be actually wondering what it could be that was poking at his t-shirt. 

“Should we have a look?” I asked him. 

The glassy-eyed man nodded, looking legitimately curious.  There was no sign of hesitation, no sign of any awareness about what I was really asking to do.  

I lifted the bottom of his t-shirt up. Sure enough, his bare penis bobbed free.  It was smooth, shaved like a little boy’s.  It was also quite erect. Clearly he’d found our conversation about his lost adulthood quite arousing.  

“Oh I see,” I said brightly to him. “It’s just your doodle.” 

Sure enough Greggy just smiled innocently, nibbling at a finger again.  “Daz my doodle,” he agreed. There was no sign of any modesty.  He was perfectly happy to have me seeing him like this.  

“Well hello there!” Grant greeted, finally arriving at the door.  “I see you’ve already met little Greggy.” 

“I getted da door!” Greggy announced.  

“I see that! And look at you. You opened the door with a bare bum-bum didn’t you? You said a lovely hello to the new man with your pee-pee bouncing all free, didn’t you?” he asked in a tone that was clearly praising. 

Greggy giggled and nodded.  

Grant gave the man a loving rub on his back and said, “Good job buddy! You’re doing so well!”  

As Greggy ate that up, Grant turned to me and explained, “We’ve been working on helping Greggy to let go of his adult modesty, helping him be a good little jaybird. And it seems Greggy’s finally letting go.” 

He turned back to Greggy and said, “In fact I think you’re ready to lose this silly t-shirt now aren’t you?” 

Greggy looked down at his t-shirt a moment, seeming to consider this idea. But after a moment he nodded and raised his hands up in the air, waiting for his Daddy to slip it off of him.  And that’s just what Grant did, leaving the man fully nude.  

“There we go, is that better? You feel extra comfy now?” Grant asked him. 

Greggy nodded right away and his penis jerked upward once again.  

“Such a good boy today. I think you’ve earned a big sticky squirt! Would you like that Greggy?” 

At the mention of squirts Greggy practically jumped up and down.  “Uh-huh! Wanna make stickies!”  

“I think a special occasion like this, my little boy should make them in the grass, in the nice warm sun. How about it Greggy? You want to give the grass some creamy squirts?” 

Greggy nodded, letting Grant take his hand and lead him down off the porch and into the front yard. Sure it was pretty private, but it was still outside. I could hear the cars passing by just beyond the hedge. But Greggy showed no concern about anyone seeing this. After all, he wasn’t worried that I was standing right there, a total stranger he’d only just met. And I was watching the whole thing.  

Grant took the young man into the grass and then reached right down and started to gently rub his erect penis. Greggy didn’t look surprised or confused by this advance. No, he leaned into it, gyrating his hips as he humped his penis forward against Grant’s palm, grabbing onto his Daddy’s arm and grunting pleasantly.  It was obvious this was a normal experience for him, something that had happened many times before.  

As Grant stroked his doodle, the therapist turned to me and explained, “This is a lovely reward for him, to help encourage his new behaviours. It was also a bit of a test, to make sure his modesty really is totally gone. As you can see, it really is.  And when he has his sticky, that bliss will permanently imprint the behaviour on his mind, associate it with this lovely feeling, with perfect release.”  

It took another minute or two for them to finish. I stood and watched the whole show.  As he got closer Grant waved me over. “Give him some encouragement, could you?” 

I nodded and stepped in front of them. Greggy looked up at me, slack-jawed now, drool dribbling down his chin as he panted. He gazed at me with these totally glazed over eyes and I felt so, so jealous of him.  

“You’re such a lucky boy,” I told him. “It must be amazing, having Daddy help you do squirts.” 

He reached out and put his free right hand on my shoulder, moaning up at me and nodding as Grant’s hand went up and down faster and faster on his bare, smooth penis.  

Finally his whole body shuddered and a jet of cum erupted from his pee-pee, flying through the air and landing in a warm, sticky rope in the grass. It was quickly joined by more. Rope after rope of gooey cum was gifted to the grass while Greggy wiggled and scrunched his bare toes in it at the same time.  

“You all done sweetie?” Grant asked him after the contractions had stopped and the last bits were dribbling down the shaft.  

Greggy took a deep breath and nodded.  

Grant took out a wet-nap and began cleaning the man’s body as his penis softened and began to dangle between his legs.  “That was a nice big one, wasn’t it Greggy?”

“Big cweamies,” Greggy agreed. 

“Yes, it must have felt extra good doing it all nakey in the yard.” 

Greggy smiled and he announced, “Gweggy nakey boy.” 

Grant nodded. “You sure are. Okay, let’s take Brad inside and let him get settled.” 

“Him be nakey boy?” Greggy asked. 

My heart skipped a beat at the question.  

And it fluttered even more when Grant instantly nodded and said, “Yep, he’s going to be a total jaybird, just like you little one.”  

**

Grant got Greggy settled on the floor, playing with some simple toys, then he came back to me, still standing by the front door.  He took out his phone and said, “Okay, before we do anything else, we need to take a quick photo.” 

“Oh, okay,” I agreed, though I felt awkward as he snapped a shot of me in front of the door.  

“What’s that about?” I asked. 

“I like to do before and after shots,” he explained. “Come have a look.”  

I was confused, but I followed him into a smaller room, an office it seemed.  But it was the back wall that got my instant attention. The rest of the room was irrelevant. This was what it was all about.  The wall was divided into two sections. On the left were photos of men standing in front of the door, some inside, some out on the porch. I say men, but there were a handful of women. Clearly most of his clients were male though. The men were dressed in an assortment of outfits, but all looked pretty adult. I noticed some were wearing cartoon t-shirts though, a couple even in clearly juvenile outfits like shortalls or overalls and maybe a quarter of them were barefoot in their photos.  

Grant was watching me, gauging my reaction.  He seemed to read my mind when he said, “Some of my clients have already been trying to be who they really are, inside.”

“You mean the ones in overalls?” 

He nodded. “A lot of them come to me barefoot. You notice?” 

I nodded. 

“I thought you might, after seeing you barefoot the other day. But I’m not that surprised you aren’t. As I said, you had soft soles. Those boys, they arrived here with tough ‘little boy feet’ as you put it.”  

“I haven’t been able to live like that. I’ve been caring for a grown-down. I have a girlfriend.  Well, I had one.”

“No need to explain,” he assured. 

I was barely listening to be honest. I was looking at the right side of the wall. It was the same men, probably only days later, but they were barely recognisable. Facial hair, body hair, it was all gone. Balding ones had shaved heads, glasses were missing.  But most of all it was the outfits which changed.  The photos were in the same place, the front door. But they looked so different.  

Many of the men were sitting on the floor or the porch now. Some were squatting, resting on their haunches. Maybe half were still standing up.  Two were looking at the camera upside down, heads between their legs.  A half dozen of them wore diapers, big thick ones that couldn’t be mistaken for pull-ups.  They bowed their legs out, left them waddling, left them true toddlers, or even crawlers.  Some wore cartoon print underoos instead. But most were simply naked.  The wall was covered in bare, dangling pee-pees.  Some mooned the camera with bare bottoms, though clearly innocently, thoughtlessly.  

It didn’t look like any of them had an iota of sense left, a modicum of shame.  Every last one of them had a huge, dumb grin or an open-mouthed smile on their face. Chins shined with spittle where they weren’t messy with chocolate or peanut butter.  Even the ones who had arrived in bare feet, in shortalls, looked transformed. Standing or squatting there in their birthday suits, gaping empty-eyed at the camera, they looked much younger than before.  

“As you can see, all my clients have left as happy little boys and girls.”  

“Yeah, I see.”

He patted my back. “Soon your photo will be up on that wall too. The one we took just now, it will go right there, in that space at the bottom left,” he explained, pointing.  “And the photo we take when you leave will go there on the right. You’ll be right there too, another smiling, dribbling big toddler. Everyone who comes after you will see your transformation, just like the others who preceded you.”  

I was shivering now, so aroused by the thought of people seeing me like these other men.  

“Now, let’s have some tea,” he suggested. 

“Tea?”

“Yep! You’ll really enjoy it, I promise.”  

**

The tea had a funny taste to it, one I hadn’t had before. I generally didn’t drink tea though, so then what did I know. Of course I didn’t want to be rude, so I finished it all. Grant seemed to be very intent on watching me finish it.  When I was done he seemed very happy, and went about cleaning up, telling me to simply rest.  

It was maybe five minutes later that I began feeling a little odd. It was like the room was sort of gently bouncing around me when I turned my head. And I felt, well, kind of disconnected, almost out of my own body.  It should have been a scary sensation, but I wasn’t scared at all. No, I actually felt really calm, really relaxed. And yeah, a bit sleepy too. 

“You’re looking tired from your drive,” Grant noted. 

“Oh, no, I dunno why I feel so… um, funny,” I told him. And then I don’t know why, but I just started giggling, like he’d made a fantastic joke. I couldn’t help myself.  It was very embarrassing. But he didn’t look concerned, didn’t judge me. He just nodded and said, “Let’s go to the living room, I have a very comfy couch.”  

So we walked to his living room. Greggy wasn’t there anymore. He must be playing upstairs, maybe in his room. I wanted to ask where he was, but my mouth wasn’t cooperating. 

“There we go, let’s just have a seat here, nice and comfy,” Grant directed.  

Oh yes, it was a comfy couch. I just seemed to be melting into it. My muscles were so, so heavy and now I was actually getting very drowsy indeed.  

Grant sat next to me, put his hand on my shoulder. It felt so comforting.  

“You’re feeling lovely and relaxed now, aren’t you Brad?” he asked in a gentle voice, rubbing my arm now.  

I nodded and the room bounced around me.  

“I know, that was very special tea, to help you get nice and open for me. It helps you soak in all my suggestions. I’m a pretty good hypnotist, but with that tea, anyone could be. So the combination is doubly powerful.”  

The tea was making me feel this way. Of course it was, it seemed so obvious now. How had I missed it before? Oh, because I was drugged, of course. 

“Now we’re going to have a nice lovely talk. Don’t worry too much, this is just the start. You won’t be turning into Greggy in less than an hour. You won’t be up on my wall tomorrow.  But from here on out, that’s what is going to happen. From here on out, there is no turning back. Once you drift under for me, you will be leaving this house as one of my lovely big toddler boys.  

“And, I know that excites you quite a lot, doesn’t it Brad?”  

I nodded right away. It was so, so exciting.  “I want to make stickies in the grass, all naked like Greggy,” I told him.  

A feint sense of alarm hit me. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Those were my secret inner thoughts. But I’d actually said it!  

Grant chuckled lightly. “I thought you enjoyed that.  Don’t you worry at all, you will be, sooner than you might think. Now, I want you to imagine something for me. Can you do that? Can you use your imagination?” 

“Uh-huh,” I agreed. 

“Little boys have vivid, powerful imaginations. I think you do too, don’t you?” 

“I do,” I instantly agreed. 

“And that’s so good, since it’s all we need to help you, to make you feel and think just the way you’ve always wanted.  So, use that imagination and picture yourself sitting in the most comfortable seat in the middle of a big, old movie theatre.”  

Grant really helped me imagine that I was in a movie theatre. It didn’t take long at all, my imagination was just so good, and I really felt like I was sitting in it. I could see the other rows, the screen, the red curtains pulled to the sides. I was all alone in the theatre though, watching a movie just for me.  And then the screen was coming to life and the lights were slowly getting darker for the movie, and as they got darker the numbers flashed on the screen, counting down from 10 to 1. But they were just a bit out of focus. I had to squint to see them at first. But as they went down they got sharper. The lights got darker though and my seat got even comfier, even softer and I just melted into it. Until the numbers got to zero and then the lights went totally out and then… and then… I fell so deeply asleep.  

**

When I woke up I was still sitting on Grant’s couch.  I blinked away the incredible grogginess and looked around. As I did that I realised I had something on my head. I took off what turned out to be heavy noise-cancelling earphones. Wow, they were state of the art looking, very pricey.  Had I listened to music on them? I didn’t recall any.  

I looked out the window and noticed the sun seemed to be setting. But that wasn’t right. That was the wrong direction.  No, the sun had recently risen!  I’d been sitting here, listening to something through these headphones all night!  

I was still dressed though, still in my normal adult clothing, even with my shoes still on.  And I still felt well, normal. I felt like me. I didn’t feel like a dumb little kid. Though really, how would I know what that felt like? It was still a total mystery to me, what it was going to actually feel like to be like Greggy, like Liam. I mean, I knew what I was going to look like to other people. I knew I’d look like those other men on the wall, all dumb and naked. I knew how I’d behave.  But I didn’t know what my own experience of that would be. How I’d feel when Grant snapped my photo at the end, what I’d be thinking when I made stickies in the grass.  

“Ah, he lives!” Grant declared, walking into the room. 

“Bwady waked up?” Greggy asked, toddling into the room right after Grant, still as nude as the previous day. “Him widdle now? Him pway?” he asked eagerly. 

“No, I don’t think it will be quite that fast buddy. You’ll have to wait,” he told the toddler man.  

Greggy pouted but then seemed to instantly shift his attention to a new thought.  “Wanna scoot!” he announced.  

“Okay, how do we ask?”  

“Wan’ scoot pweaaathe!” he shouted.  

“Alright.  Out you go,” Grant said, letting the eager man race wide-legged out of the room, heading to the front yard to push himself around on a little plastic push scooter.  

That left me alone with Grant.  I had so many questions, but the most important was, “Did I… did you hypnotise me?”  

Grant laughed. “How much do you recall from yesterday?” 

“After getting here, having the tea… not much. Basically nothing.”  

“Well then, yes, you went into trance for me. We did some very important work.”

“Really?! Like what?” 

“Oh you’ll see soon enough. But first we need to go to the supermarket, get something for dinner tonight.  I’ll get Greggy a bit more decent. But it looks like you’re already all dressed. That is, if you’re still happy to be dressed that way?”  

I looked down at my clothes. I’d arrived dressed in my normal clothes, my adult casual wear of a t-shirt and jeans. I still felt perfectly comfortable in them. I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine.”  

It felt so anticlimactic. Was something meant to have changed? I didn’t feel anything at all.  And Grant didn’t look worried, like his suggestions had failed.  

“Okay then. But make sure you tie your shoes first. You don’t want to trip on the laces,” he warned. 

Oh yeah, my shoes were on, but the laces were undone, just lying there.  

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, leaning down and gripping the laces of my right shoe in my hands.  

I was about to tie them when Grant suddenly reached over, a single finger extended and tapped my forehead while saying, “Blank.”  

I felt a physical sensation actually pass from his finger right through my head. I swear it felt like a wave of energy just passed through my brain from forehead to the very back.  I felt a moment, an instant, of total disorientation. I lost my train of thought completely, forgot what I was doing.  

Grant only touched me for that instant. Then he took his hand back and just watched me again.  I remembered what I was doing again. I was tying my shoes, the laces were already in my hands after all.  I looked at them, and… nothing.  I couldn’t think what to do next. I’d tied my shoes a million times in my life. But now, it really seemed impossible.  It seemed incredibly complex.  

“Having trouble?” Grant asked. 

“I… I can’t, um, I dunno how to tie my shoes,” I told him. 

He nodded. “I know buddy. I took that away. You don’t know how to tie your shoes anymore. You never will again. From now on, if you need them tied, you’ll have to ask someone else to help you. It could be a grown-up, but even a young boy, maybe a seven year old, should be able to help you with that.”  

The idea of needing a seven year old’s help was incredibly exciting of course. But I was also in shock at the loss of such a simple skill. I tried to undo whatever he’d done. I held the laces in my hands, I crossed them, I touched them together. I sat and tried so hard to recall what came next. But I just drew a total blank, even after a solid minute of trying.  

“Well, you can’t walk around with them untied,” Grant told me.  

“Okay. Can you tie them for me?” I asked, giving in. 

Grant shrugged. “Are you sure you still want to wear them. It’s okay if you don’t”  

He wanted me to go to the store barefoot!  God, the very thought of it made my penis stiffen. Everyone was going to see me in bare feet, and alongside Greggy. They’d all know instantly I was little.  It was just obviously so exciting. My dreams were actually coming true.  

But there was also a problem.  I knew my feet were still very soft and it was going to be a hot day. Who knew how long we’d be out for. I needed to toughen my feet up here, in the yard first. It frustrated me, but I wasn’t ready to be barefoot all day yet.    

“I… I wish I could just leave them.  But I still need them, for now. My feet are too soft,” I explained sadly. 

He nodded with understanding. “Okay then. But first you have to prove to me that you’re still big enough to wear them. I need to know the suggestions from last night haven’t taken away too much of those big boy thoughts.”  

I shrugged. I still felt like me, I could pass any such test.  

“Okay, take off your shoes and then put them back on,” Grant told me. 

“That’s it?” I asked, confused. 

“Yep. Take off your shoes, put them back on and I’ll tie them for you and we can go.”  

It was laughably simple. Tying a knot, that was tough, that took many kids until they were eight or nine years old to do right. But putting your shoes on? A preschooler could manage that with ease.  I wasn’t at Greggy’s level yet.  

I slipped my sneakers off, set my socked feet down on the carpet a moment, then leant down to pick up the right sneaker.  Grant moved very quickly. His arm was up in a blur and I felt his finger tap my forehead again as he repeated, “Blank.”  

The same sensation from last time, but even stronger now. A wave of disorientation blasting through my head.  I blinked in recovery, then looked at my shoes. Which one was right again? I stared and stared. And then I knew I’d lost my directions. 

But I just needed to line them up, figure out which one fit which foot.  But I couldn’t do it. I tried to hard. But when I tried to put them on, I couldn’t get the right one on the right foot.  I couldn’t figure out which way the shoes should face even.  It was all so complicated suddenly.  

“Brady, stop sweetie,” Grant said after a couple minutes. “There’s no point pretending. You don’t even know how to put your shoes on honey, you’re far too little to be wearing them now.” 

I shook my head. “No, it’s just that. I remember everything else like normal.”  

“Still, if you can’t put them on yourself, I don’t think you’re going to be wearing them. What if I’m not around. Would you be able to ask someone to help you with this?” 

I imagined the shame of such a request. No, of course I wouldn’t.  

“Exactly. So, it’s time we got those feet toughened up, isn’t it?”  

I had to nod. He was right, the time had come after all.  Grant knelt down and pulled off my socks.  And I just felt so grateful to him. He was taking the step I was too afraid to take myself.

“Can’t get them all dirty and holey,” he said.  Then he began to cuff my jeans up, so they wouldn’t drag in the dirt.  Finally he said, “See, much better.”  

Yes, I liked the Tom Sawyer look it gave me.  I thought about that while Grant got Greggy dressed for the trip.  The other man complained about having to wear clothes at all. Funny he was apparently struggling with modesty just yesterday.  In the end Grant led us out the front door with Greggy wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts but still no shirt.  And that’s how Grant drove us to the store. It was exciting to sit in the back, where kids sat, right next to Greggy.  I was worried about the rest of it though.  I mean, out in public in bare feet would be amazing. But I couldn’t quite shake that nagging worry.  What if I saw someone I knew, while I was still present enough to be embarrassed?  How could I explain it?  

We were there pretty quickly. Grant came around and opened our doors. He had to, the child lock was on.  I stepped out onto the pavement, feeling it under the soles of my feet. Yeah, it was hot alright. Not burning yet, but not comfortable either. And there was the store, with so many people coming in and out, so many people who would see me like this.  

“So, look at you, a barefoot boy heading into the store,” Grant said to me.  

As I began to nod reluctantly, he reached up and put his hand on my shoulder, saying, “Bliss.”  

It was pure, unadulterated pleasure than seemed to pulse out of his hand and through my body.  And the reason was utterly clear. I was a barefoot boy. It was what I was thinking about when he said it, and now it was so clear, being a barefoot boy felt good, really, really good.  I moaned. I actually let out this little moan and scrunched my toes against the pavement. It wasn’t too hot. No, it was perfect. I was warm and hard and it would make my feet dirty, it would make them tough, it would make them little boy feet and it felt so, so good to have little boy feet. It didn’t matter if someone I knew saw me this way, because that would be even better. That would be wonderful!  

My vision went blurry for a moment and when it cleared I realised it was because my eyes had rolled right back in ecstasy.  But the wonderful sensation finally passed and I felt Grant’s hand taking my own.  

“Come on now Brady, let’s get shopping,” he urged.  

I let him lead me across the car park. Every step was wonderful. I wanted to stop and check my soles, see if they were black yet. I wanted to be his barefoot little boy, just like Greggy was, like Liam was for me.  But I couldn’t stop. Grant was leading the way, he was in charge now, not me.  It was so nice being led by the hand, but I noticed Greggy wasn’t on the other.  No, he was bounding out ahead of us. He was being kept in check by a strap around his wrist. He was on a leash.  He was clearly very little. Yes, everyone would know he was even littler than me, since he was also shirtless and he was on a toddler leash.  

But as we walked into the store and I felt the cooler, smoother linoleum under my soles, I knew that people would now truly see me as Greggy’s big brother, rather than as his Daddy’s friend.  I looked around eagerly, wanting people to see my feet, wanting them to know I was a little boy. Ever since Grant touched my shoulder the worries I’d had before had totally disappeared.  

Greggy didn’t stay on his leash for very long once we were in the store. Grant had him climb into the trolley. I felt a pang of jealousy. That was such a little boy thing. And as he pressed his feet against the mesh, everyone could see his dirty little boy soles. But mine stayed mostly hidden as I stood upright.  

“Keep your hand on the trolley Brady,” Grant told me.  I did as instructed and he said, “Good boy.” 

A sense of total happiness, security and accomplishment swept over me at the words. I was a good boy. It felt wonderful to be a good boy.  

Grant pushed the trolley around the store. No one was really staring at me. It was an amazing experience for me, but to them I was just another grown-down out to shop with Daddy and little brother.  Nobody even seemed to be giving me a second glance.  I wondered if I should do something to make them see that I was little now, to acknowledge it. But I didn’t.  I needed to be a good boy and behave. That was very important.  

In the trolley I noticed Greggy was sort of playing with his toes. He wiggled them in the mesh, then in his hands. He leant back and pulled his foot very close to his face. Daddy noticed too. He smiled, then reached down and placed his hand on Greggy’s shoulder before whispering to him.  “Bliss,” he said in Greggy’s ear.  

I watched Greggy take a sharp, deep breath, his eyes fluttering a moment. Then he yanked his foot right to his mouth and jammed his toes between his lips.  

“Look at my little toe muncher,” Grant cooed. “Such a good boy. You deserve lots of bliss.”  

And Greggy shivered visibly with ecstasy, nibbling at his toes and gazing up at Grant with utter adoration.  I was stunned to witness Grant’s power over Greggy. He’d turned him into a toe-sucking baby, just like that. Greggy spent the rest of the shopping trip in that trolley sucking on or otherwise playing with his dirty toes.  I wondered what Grant would have me doing in the future.  

**

Ten Days Later 

Greggy left a few days ago. Now it’s just me and Daddy. He had a name, a grown-up name. I used to know it. But he took it away yesterday. He asked me his name, then tapped my forehead and said the magic word, “Blank.”  And the name was gone. He told me it was Daddy after that and when I called him Daddy, he touched my shoulder and said “Bliss” and I never want to call him anything else again.  

Daddy has taken away lots of my big boy things now. Some of them I remember doing, but not how. Other stuff I don’t remember at all. I just know things have gone, things grown-ups know and do easily. They’re things I can’t do. I can’t use a fork or knife. I use my fingers.  I can’t ride a bike or swim. I used to count how many days I’d been here with Daddy, but then I lost my numbers and then I lost time. I don’t know time anymore. I can’t feel it at all.  

I was always a good boy at the beginning. But then Daddy said it was amazing how well I controlled myself, my emotions. And when I thought about how good I was at that, he said Blank. Now I have a hard time controlling my desires, my emotions. They feel super strong. They can’t wait, they can’t be ignored. Now Daddy has to discipline me, has to give me time outs because I don’t have any patience.  I get angry about that too, cuz Daddy took the patience away.  

And when I get excited, when I’m happy, it’s also way, way more intense! I feel sooo good, I have to jump and yell and run around and screech because the feelings are so, sooo strong and I have to get them out.  

Today we go to story time at the library.  I like story time a lot. The first time we went it was because I got to sit on the floor with the little kids, because I was like them, everyone knew it. But now, I like it because the stories are so much fun! I like it because the lady who reads them does cool voices. I like them because I can get all excited and make noise and clap and screech and no one gets upset. The other little boys are loud too!  

So I sit on my bum and listen to the story. It’s about someone called Goldilocks. It’s a little familiar. I have that funny feeling I get when I know I’ve forgotten something, that this is a grown-up thing I used to know. But I just ignore it now. I don’t care. I want to have fun! I want to hear the funny voices.  

“Does anyone know what was wrong with the next bed?” the lady asked in the middle of the story. 

I knew! I was sure I knew!  

“Wad too big!” I called out, I shouted while rising to my knees.  

The lady smiled and nodded. 

“That’s right Brady,” she told me. 

I nodded and turned around so Daddy could see. I called out, “Daddy! I tolded!”  

He nodded and said, “Yes Brady, but sit down now so she can finish.” 

I sit back down. I feel so smart. And I feel like a good boy for doing as Daddy told me.  

When the story is over the nice lady came over and talked to Daddy while I played with my cars on the floor.  She’s talking to him, not me, because he’s a grown-up and I’m just little. A few days ago, the first time it happened, it felt so, so good and Daddy told me “Bliss” and made it feel even better.  But now, I don’t really notice. Grown-ups talk to grown-ups. I’m playing cars. I like my cars. I smash them together and make noises for them, engine noises, tires noises.  Until I feel the lady’s hand on my back. It’s warm and soft.  

“I see he’s feeling a lot more comfy in his own skin now,” I hear her say.  

Daddy nods. She’s talking to him, not me, even though she’s touchin’ me.  

“Yes, he’s definitely losing that modesty now. We’ve reached that stage,” he explained.  

I understand some of the words, but not all of them. Not the big ones. I don’t know definitely and I don’t know modesty.  Daddy reads me stories at home. I cuddle up in his arms and he regularly taps my forehead and says Blank after big words. Lots of them have gone now. It’s really hard to understand what grown-ups talk about cuz I miss so many words. So now I don’t even try to listen when grown-ups talk.  

But I like this lady and I like her hand on my back. I can feel it because I’m not wearing a shirt today. Daddy didn’t put one on me this morning, just my nice green board shorts. They’re really baggy too. But no shirt. I asked him where my shirt was and he said I didn’t need it today, it was just story time and when we left the house he said Bliss and the sun and wind felt so good, so perfect on my skin, on my back and tummy and I never want a shirt on again.  

After story time, after library, we go home. I run ahead. I can’t get lost, Daddy’s harness on my wrist keeps me nice and safe. I can run and play and still be totally secure.  Out in front of the library there’s a fountain though and I want to play in it. As soon as I see it today, I just know I want to play.  I want to splash! I want to make a mess. A lovely warm feeling reminds me little boys need to make messes.  

“Wanna go water Daddy!” I yell to him.  I point, I want him to see.  

He sees it, he looks and nods.  

“Well it is a warm day. But we don’t want to get your shorts and undies all wet. I didn’t bring any extra clothes,” he tells me.  

I don’t care about that. I want to play. I need to play. I can’t be patient, Daddy took it away.  I hop up and down, feeling that lovely warm pavement under my bare feet.  I point again and yell louder, angrier, “Wan’ pway water! Bwady wanna pway!” 

Daddy doesn’t look upset with my shouty voice. He says, “Okay, but if you’re going to play in that water we need to take these shorts and undies off, so they stay dry.”  

I look down at my shorts and undies. If they go off, I’ll be totally nakey, and not like for my bathy, not like when Daddy gives me stickies at home. No, I’ll be nakey in public. The library is behind us, the street and car park just ahead and there are other parents and grown-downs around.  They would all see.  And that makes me feel scared deep down. Something so deep inside me still remembers that’s beyond anything I imagined. That’s not in Daddy’s private front yard, not on his secret wall photos.  That’s in public.  

But I want to splash in the water. I’ve never wanted something so much, because that’s how it always feels now when I want something. I don’t want it now, I need it with every fibre of my being.  And Daddy says I can’t unless I’m nakey.  So I have to be nakey.  

“Off!” I agree urgently.  

Daddy looks unsure. “You want your shorts and undies off then Brady?” he asks me. 

And I nod. I want them off so I can play in the water.  “Wan ‘em off now,” I tell him. “Wanna spwash!”  

And with that he undoes the wrist strap to let me free of the leash and then he grabs the waist of my baggy green shorts and he yanks them and my cool Paws Patrol underoos, straight down.  He holds them there as I step clear of them, the same as I usually do for bath time, or to change into pyjamas for beddy-byes. Accept this isn’t our bathroom or my bedroom.  

But I’m out of the clothes. I’m totally free and my doodle is hanging loose.  Daddy stands up, my shorts and underoos in his arms and I’m about ready to run to the fountain, to splash so much, when Daddy’s hand closes on my shoulder and he says, “Bliss.”  

I gasp, feeling that wonderful, familiar feeling. But even as it washes over me, Daddy’s other hand closes over my forehead and he repeats “Bliss. Total Bliss.”  

It’s the strongest euphoria I’ve experienced.  I grunt in pleasure, my whole body shakes from head to toe. And then it is time to go play, but as I run, as I rush to the fountain, my doodle isn’t dangling anymore. It’s bobbing against my tummy, it’s standing right up at attention and stickies are oozing down it.  I’ve got a happy pee-pee.  And it feels so good to have it out like this, where everyone can see it. Only the very littlest of boys run around nakey in public. And now I’m one of them! It’s the best feeling there is. I’m not shy, not embarrassed at all. I don’t care who is looking as I climb into the fountain. I just want to splash, just want to have so much fun!  

**

Waking up, it was the strangest feeling I’ve ever experienced. No, I don’t mean waking up from being asleep. No, that’s easy, that’s a daily experience. This kind of waking up was like coming up from a much, much deeper place, like coming out of a coma almost.  Suddenly all the things I’d lost were back. All the words, all the skills, they were there. I was able to feel time again, able to understand what I’d actually lost over the last couple weeks.  There was also an incredibly sensation of control, over my mind, my body, my emotions, my future.  Suddenly I was back in the driver’s seat.  

I also realised how I’d been behaving. I was fully aware of what I’d done, what people had watched me do and it chilled me. I was just so thankful no one I knew had seen me playing buck naked in a fountain in front of the library. And then, after that, being walked back to the car that way since Grant hadn’t brought a towel. No one I knew had seen me eating my own filthy toes while I sat in a giant playpen in Grant’s living room.  No one familiar saw me getting jacked off repeatedly, spewing cum all over Grant’s lawn.  

I also became aware of where I was. No longer was the Hotwheels car in my hands the centre of my world. Now I saw that we were sitting in a park, on a bench, near to but not right next to the playground.  The anger I’d had about not being able to go play on it faded instantly. The annoyance I felt gnawing at me, that I was forced to wear a t-shirt today, also quickly evaporated.  Suddenly I felt glad that I was wearing a t-shirt as well as my black jean shorts.  I was still barefoot though, yes I was instantly aware of that.  

I peered down into my shirt’s neck-hole, noting my tanned skin, the lack of any lines, the total absence of body hair.  When had than been done? I honestly couldn’t recall now.  I took my right foot, yes, I knew which was the right one!  I took it and swung it up to my other knee, examining the sole. It was dark black and as I touched it, yes very thick and callused. I had little boy feet, I really did and that at least still really excited me.  

“They’re nice and tough,” Grant commented.  

I blinked, letting my foot go. I’d forgotten he was there for a second. But no, he was there, sitting right next to me. He must have just said some special word or phrase to bring back all my adult intellect. I hadn’t known this was a possibility.  I didn’t know why it was happening.  I recalled now that he’d had me pose for a photo earlier today, outside his front door. So this must be it, the end of the treatment. But why was I so alert then?  

“Have a look at it then,” he said. 

“What?”

“The after photo,” he said, smirking, as he held up his phone. 

And there I was, the photo of me that would go on his wall. I saw myself as never before. I was naked, squatting down playing with the same silly toy car I had in my hands now. But in the photo I looked obsessed with the simple toy, totally oblivious to my exposure, to my soft penis hanging between my legs. 

“I don’t understand why I’m, well, me again? And why are we here?”  

“This is where your new family wanted to meet. And after a little talk, she insisted she wanted to meet you mentally intact for now at least.”  

I was still confused. “So you have a caretaker for me?” 

“Well, not exactly.  You’ll see in a moment,” he said. “Ah, and here they are!”  

I looked where Grant was looking and I nearly fell off the bench.  Melissa was walking along the path towards us, leading Liam by the hand.  As they reached us Melissa pointed at me for Liam and said, “Look honey!”  

Liam grinned and hurried right over to us, climbing onto the bench on his knees and throwing his arms around me so tightly.  

I felt so glad to cuddle him again. It was more than I could have hoped for, more than I’d dared dream. But at the same time I felt so ashamed to have Melissa here, seeing me like this, sitting here with dirty bare feet, a toy car in my hand. Liam was wearing no shirt, but otherwise his shorts and bare feet were so similar to mine. We could easily be the same mental age.   

“Melissa, I… I just…” I tried. But what could I say to her. 

She shook her head sadly.  “Brad, I thought we could be honest with each other. I have to say when I discovered your secret emails with Grant, I wasn’t very happy with you. I wanted to know why you didn’t trust me with your needs, your desires. I wanted to know how on Earth you thought it was best to just leave us.”

I sat in horrified silence. Of course I deserved this, but I had hoped to take the coward’s way out, to be gone before she knew.  I felt myself tearing up at my foolishness, at my shame. 

“For a few days I was very, very angry at you Brad. I thought I’d just leave you to it, let you have the dream that didn’t include me or Liam.”

I shook my head violently. “No! That’s not it at all! Melissa…” 

“Let me finish,” she cut my off.  “I was pissed for a few days. But the more I thought about it, the worse I felt that I missed what you needed so badly. And then I contacted Grant myself and he told me what you said, about being a burden on me.  And I thought about how hard it would be to admit such taboo desires.  And in the end I decided I couldn’t just leave you to it, leave you to risk being given away to some pervert who would have you under their total control.”

I was stunned. She still cared about me, even after what I’d done to her, even after I just abandoned her.  I didn’t deserve her. No denying it, no pretending, she was far, far better than I.  

“Melissa, I’m so sorry,” I gulped, tears running down my cheeks. 

“It’s okay Brad, I understand why you did what you did. I’m still not happy with it, but I accept it.”  

I nodded. “I promise Melissa, it’s over now. I had my absolute fill of it and I’m ready to come back, be the man you deserve. Or at least to try my best.”  

But Melissa shook her head.  Oh God, she forgave me, but she didn’t want me back. 

“No Brad, we aren’t just going to go on pretending what you want is to be Liam’s Daddy, be my boyfriend.  We’re going to be a family, we’re going to be together, but with you and Liam as equals, as brothers. I won’t be your girlfriend anymore, I’ll be Mummy from now on.”  

I wondered if I was dreaming. It didn’t seem like it could be real.  “But Melissa, you can’t afford to care for two toddlers,” I told her. “It isn’t fair to you.” 

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed instantly. “But it’s preferable to having you gone, being on my own with Liam. Having you here, having a permanent playmate for Liam, still being able to cuddle and love you, I can live with that.”  

“You don’t have to, I can just…” 

“Don’t lie anymore Brad. No more of this, out of your system rubbish. This is what you want. And it’s what’s going to happen. I asked Grant to bring back your adult thoughts so we could have this talk, but in a second we’re going to turn them right back off honey, going to let all those big boy worries just drift right out your ears for good, because this time I’ve asked Grant to make it permanent, just like you wanted.”  

My jaw dropped open.  This feeling of competence and control was only temporary after all. In a moment I’d be right back to where I was before, to playing naked on the floor with Matchbox cars.  And worse, being with Melissa, being her baby boy, meant that I wouldn’t be able to live this out somewhere far away. All my friends, my family, every co-worker would know, they’d all see my descent into toddlerhood.  

“Melissa, all my friends, our neighbours…” I began.

“Don’t worry Brad. I promise, none of them will know you chose this life. None of them will know your regression was done through therapy. They’ll just think you had the virus, same as Liam. They’ll treat you the same as they do him, as they do any other victim.”  

That was only a slight relief. It still meant they were going to see me like Liam. It was arousing alright, my God did that make me hard. But it was also way too real.  I didn’t actually want our neighbours seeing me that way.  I was hoping to be moved far away.  

“Melissa, um, before we do anything, can we talk about some stuff, like clothing for example?”  

Melissa gave me a sympathetic look but then shook her head. “Oh honey, little toddler boys don’t get a say in how they’re dressed.  And that’s what you are now. Your therapy is all done and Grant tells me it was 100% successful. Now, we brought you and Liam here so you could get to know each other again in a fun way, playing together. So it’s time to clear your head of all those grown-up smarts so you can have some proper fun.  Don’t be afraid honey, Grant tells me the final transition to toddlerhood feels glorious.”  

I was shivering again, with both fear and anticipation. I turned to Grant, and asked, “Can you please just give me another couple minutes?” 

But he shrugged and said, “Sorry buddy, it’s not my choice anymore.”  

I was confused for a moment, but then I felt Melissa’s hand on my shoulder.  I looked over at her and she said “Blank boy, Blank boy, Blank boy.”  

She was right. It was utter bliss.  The sensation of all my adult thoughts just drifting away was absolutely euphoric.  All the control I’d got back, all the independence was being taken away. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.  All the words, all the skills, all the abilities, just blinking out, pop, pop, pop, gone from my brain forever. And then the awareness of all of this began to fade away too. All those times I lost these skills, these abilities and it was so thrilling, so exciting at first, but then it became normal. And this time it was like that. 

As the awareness of it seemed to drift away as well, what was happening simply began to feel normal, like I was meant to be this way, meant to be Mummy’s silly, giggly, messy little boy. That’s who I was always meant to be. It’s what I always would be.  Such a calming sensation, such a feeling of utter peace and contentment to know that.  

Mummy hugged me close as the big thoughts went bye-byes. Mummy is her name. I lost her big person name.  I love Mummy very much. Mummy will take good care of me. I’ll be a good boy for her when I can. But I won’t always be, because the patience is going away again, the control is going away and the emotions are getting strong and irresistible again.  But now I feel love, I feel happy and the emotions are so strong I’m crying, cuddling Mummy so tight.  Love Mummy and love brother too.  Wanna play with brother. Wanna have fun. Wanna get all messy for Mummy.  So we do. Mummy sends us to play, me and brother, me and Liam.  And I play so good. I climb and crawl and roll around. And Mummy takes off my shirt cuz it getting dirty and cuz I feel so much better without it. I’m such a happy boy!  

**

Marge got the Little Lambs ready for their mid-morning nature walk. The dozen men and women who made up her group were all mentally two to three years old.  She absolutely adored working with the youngest ones in the daycare centre. Their real innocence was just adorable. Every day they discovered things, the very simplest of things, and were utterly amazed by them.  They were always saying the cutest things too.  They had no ability to lie, no guile whatsoever.  They were just the sweetest and most affectionate of children, just in big bodies.  She loved kissing away boo-boos, accepting regular cuddles from them and cleaning their fingers and faces after every meal.  

She had been working at the centre for two years now and was still in love with her job. She didn’t mind the constant routine because it wasn’t about that, it was about the kids and she got new ones all the time.  Liam for example was one of her longer attending children. And he was just a lovely little boy so that was fine with her.  For many weeks he had been dropped off and picked up by his Daddy, Brad.  But then, about a month ago, Melissa had come by and told her that poor Brad had contracted the virus itself and worse, it was also the fast moving type and would leave him just as simple as Liam.  

Now of course Marge felt sorry for Brad. She’s met him many times, had interesting conversations and he was a very loving and caring Daddy to Liam too. Few Daddies were so caring and consistent in her experience. It just didn’t seem fair to him, losing all his independence, all his intelligence.  He was such an astute man, so sharp and quick-witted. It would be quite the transition she had thought, to see him become like her simple-minded charges.  

Marge finished cleaning a girl named Ellen’s fingers from the yoghurt she’d had for her morning tea.  Then she added Ellen to the rope they used to keep the simple little ones in order when walking, slipping her hand into the elastic loop and letting it automatically tighten. An adult could easily pull the loop in a way to slip free, but for Ellen, who was busy picking her nose and blowing bubbles with her saliva, it was an impossible puzzle.  Ellen joined the six others already on the rope line.  Unlike the other girl on the line, Ellen was topless. They’d taken her shirt off before tea since she had no bib and there seemed no need to redress her for the walk.  She certainly didn’t mind.  She was still better dressed than Liam, who was standing in front of her on the line. As usual he’d wanted his shorts and undies off for the walk. It had become his routine and nowadays she just stripped him automatically.  

Finally Marge turned to her remaining charges. Little Brady was sitting on the floor at her feet, pushing a sippy cup along the floor between his splayed legs, making car vrooming downs for it with his lips.  She couldn’t help but smile when she looked down at her newest little one.  She’d been wrong before when she couldn’t imagine him actually becoming like her normal little ones. 

Little Brady was sat there wearing just a pair of Paw Patrol underoos, his lips and fingers still stained with blue sticky liquid from the ice block he enjoyed for morning tea. He’d arrived in just a pair of shorts this morning, same as every morning since he began, just like Liam. Melissa had explained he had developed the same clothing habits as his brother and should be treated appropriately.  

So the shorts had come off early today, even before Liam’s in fact.  She shook her head in wonder as the lovely little one played before her. 

“Brady, time to go for walkies,” she cooed to him.  

Brady looked up at her with wide innocent eyes and a slack expression. No witty words would be coming out of that gaping mouth anymore.  His toes wiggled and he echoed, “Go fow a walk.”  

She nodded. “That’s right! You like going for walks, don’t you Brady?” 

Now he grinned too and it was a big dumb cheerful toddler smile.  He turned onto his knees, underoos in the air a moment, then stood up, still smiling.  

“Ready to go?” she asked him. 

The former caretaker shook his head. “Off!” he said eagerly.  

She knew what he meant but pretended not to. “Off?” she repeated, looking confused.  “What’s off?”  

Brady giggled, loving this game.  “Undies off!” he shouted. “Bwady nakey boy!” 

“Oh!” she chuckled. “Of course.”  

And with him still giggling, she gripped the elastic waist of the underoos and yanked them down, so he could step clear.  Then Brady let her take his hand and lead him to the rope, slipping his wrist in as well, attaching him to it two places behind Liam.  There he stood, passively waiting for the others to be clipped in. He pulled his hand up a couple times, gazed at the strap around his wrist with glassy eyes, then let it go back down.  He hadn’t a clue how to get free of it either.  

Today’s nature walk took the group out the front of the daycare, a block down the street and across it, then down the trail. Normally Marge would have assured all the grown-down charges in her care were partially clothed at least for this walk. But Melissa had assured her she wasn’t bothered with her boys nudist streak, so she decided it would be okay for them.  

So soon the line of a dozen men and women was making its way along the footpath in the warm mid-day sun. There was no mistaking that this was a daycare group of course.  As other people walked past the line they gave sympathetic smiles to Marge, casting their eyes over her poor mentally reduced charges.  How unlucky they were to get that version of the virus, they thought.  And right in the middle of the line Brady made his way along between the rest. The strangers just saw a second fully nude man, toddling along with his wrist fully restrained, his hairless penis soft and swinging free between his legs.  No one would have ever suspected that he wasn’t actually a virus victim at all, that he was here entirely as a result of his own free choices.  

Because Brady wasn’t pretending, he wasn’t acting. When they turned down the nature path and his feet padded onto the soft dirt Brady smiled with honest glee and he announced “Bwady needa tinkle!”  

Marge stopped the group but didn’t bother to free Brady’s wrist from the rope. It would be too much work.  Surely Brad would have thought this a step too far. He couldn’t have known this was normal practice at the daycare after all. No one could have told him.  But Brad wasn’t home anymore. When he’d heard Melissa say the magic words he’d allowed the suggestions carefully conditioned into his mind to take over. He let them turn off all his intellect and even his adult awareness.  

So he didn’t argue, he didn’t balk at all when Marge turned him sideways on the path and while all the other men and women watched, she patted his bared bottom and said, “Go ahead sweetie. Make your tinkles Brady.”  

And he let out a pleasant sigh and then smiled as he let out a golden stream of pee all over the ground between his feet.  “Bwady pee-pee!” he announced happily when he was done, totally oblivious as the rope moved along and he toddled barefoot into the forest.