THE AGE REGRESSION STORY ARCHIVE

 

Stories
By Author
By Title
By Subject

Writing Guides
Links
Sources
Main

Sasha

by Ponce D

E-mail forwarded to the Author

Other Stories by This Author

 

I've always been what you might call ... a tit hound. I mean, put a nice set of juggs on a tackling dummy and I might just try and pick it up.

I guess I was deprived as a child. Maybe my mom weaned my too early. I'm just not able to look at a woman in the face, my eyes head right for her chest. It's gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've had my face slapped over the years, or seen the door to my bedroom slam shut by a woman whose last words to me were: "There's more to me than a pair of tits."

Yeah. Right.

I don't know, maybe what happened to me was my fault. They say what goes around, comes around.

I had just broken up with latest girlfriend, Becky. Which is to say, I came home from work one day and Becky was gone -- along with half my apartment. Becky was a short little brunette gal, with a nice cushy ass and monstrous 44DD packed on her 5'2" frame. At about 130 lbs. she was a chubby little plumper, but she made up by being an absolute dynamo in the sack. Not strangely, I started losing interest in Becky when she got on a fitness kick. Inside of six months, she lost nearly 35 pounds -- mostly in the places I liked it -- after that, my eyes started wandering, and Becky knew it.

"Woman are just tits and ass to you, aren't they Michael," she yelled at me the night before she left.

Taking a last look at Becky's now reduced breasts, I must have unconsciously nodded in agreement.

Her last words to me were: "Take away the tits and you lose interest!"

Ouch! That one hurt. Mainly because it was true.

I guess I can't help myself -- I mean I'm young, good looking. I keep myself trim. I ALWAYS take precautions doing the dirty deed. So even in the 90's I was packing down more than my fair share (actually way more than my fair share). With Becky gone, it was simply a matter of visiting one or two of my favorite haunts and seeing what I could latch onto and who was willing to latch on to me.

That's when I met Sasha.

She was a tall woman, nearly 5'10", with long straight jet-black hair that framed a face that was almost heart shaped. She had ice-blue eyes and the whitest teeth. But that's not what attracted her to me. You guessed it -- she had an enormous set of perfectly teardrop shaped hooters.

They stood out on her chest like a magnificent pair of matched gemstones. Each one must have weighed over 20 lbs, each perfectly shaped. I could feel myself salivating at my first glimpse of her. What I couldn't understand is why no one seemed to be paying any attention to her. It was as if I was the only one in the bar that noticed her.

I walked over to her. At 6'2" I was taller than she was, but no by much, especially since she was in heels.

I started in with my usual bullshit talk, and she seemed to take it for what it was. I was struck by the curious smile that stayed on her lips. But my eyes were elsewhere, for I couldn't drag my eyes off of her tits. I could almost hear them calling to me, begging me to hold and caress them. I put my mouth on automatic and concentrated my thoughts on how those breasts would feel in my hands. How they would feel as I nipped at her nipples with my teeth. How they would taste as I sucked on them.

About 10 minutes later, my brain came up for air when she asked me a question.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked.

"I said, where do you work?" Sasha said, still with her smile affixed to her face.

"I'm a hazardous waste disposal consultant. I just finished a four month job for RayChem Industries. I'm in between jobs right now. I start at PhyCo Ltd. in a few weeks. So I'm footloose and fancy-free, without a thing to do -- or someone to do it with -- for a month. How about you?"

"I work at a day care center just out of town. It's called Magic Valley, but I doubt you'd ever heard of it."

"Do you take care of the kids?" I asked, making polite conversation.

"You could say so," she laughed mysteriously.

We chatted some more and around 11 o'clock she stood and told me that she was ready to go.

"I came here with my friend, but he's went off with a girl he met," I lied, trying to look pitiful. "Now I'm stuck calling a cab to get home."

I graciously accepted her offer to give me a lift.

"I was going by the center before going home ..." she started to say.

"Fine with me," I jumped in. "I'm in no hurry. I don't have to get up tomorrow and there's nobody waiting for me. I could drop out of sight and nobody would even notice."

After some seeming reluctance, she let me talk her into going to her center first. It took about 20 minutes to drive to her day care in her little red Honda Accord. Magic Valley was really an old Victorian mansion that had been redone into a day care facility. The place was huge. It looked like it must have 20 ore 25 rooms in it.

When Sasha put the car in park, I decided to go for broke. I leaned over and kissed her. Surprisingly, she leaned into me and kissed me fully back. For the next few minutes, we were embraced in a passionate kiss. I felt my hand reach up and touch the underside of her enormous breasts. I heard her make a guttural moan in her throat and she renewed her assault on my mouth with her tongue.

I was kneading her breasts with my hands. I felt her nipples stiffen under the fabric of her bra and blouse. She pulled away from me, looked me in the eyes as if weighing choices. Finally, I could she her make a mental decision.

"I need to go inside and check a few things, would you like to come in with me?"

I opened the car door and within minutes we were both inside the building. I heard her turn the key in the lock. There was no getting out without her keys. But that was fine with me.

The downstairs was a series of rooms running from playroom areas for older tots to nursery facilities for infants. Sasha took my hand and led me to a large staircase. We went up to the second floor.

Most of the rooms here were labs surprisingly, only a few offices and a single conference rooms. We stopped at the conference room bar where Sasha poured us both whiskies in a tumbler glass. We came to a lab with Head of Pediatric Research written on it. Sasha's name was under the title, with an M.D. after it.

Sasha's office was small, but the lab off to the side was filled with equipment and computers. In addition to the equipment, her lab also seemed to double as an examining room.

"This is where I do my thing," Sasha said with a smile, taking the drink from my hand and setting it on her desk.

"It seems awfully hi-tech for just a nursery," I observed.

"That's pretty astute," she answered. "It is. You see in addition to a commitment to providing the finest child care services in this state, the center also is involved in a long-range study involving longevity. We're studying the little ones to observe the aging process at a time of life when change is most apparent and observable. As a result of our studies and experiments, we expect to eventually be able to significantly extend the human life-span."

"Experiments?" I quizzed.

"Oh, just guinea pigs, mostly," she said dismissively. "Mostly I bring up the children and do physical examinations."

Running my fingers along the top of the table, I asked if she'd like to examine me.

Grinning, she said, "So, you think you want to be one of my little ones? All right, hop up big boy, but don't blame me later if you don't like it."

I hopped up on the table as she left her coat and purse her desk. She made a big deal of putting her starched white coat over her dress. With her left hand firmly placed over my hard dick, Sasha actually began to examine me, all the while chit-chatting with me like I figured she must with her young patients.

With both my hands free, I, with great deliberation, massaged her breasts in my hands. I knew she was getting as turned on as I was, but she continued with her mock examination, as if I was a patient.

"I thought you were a big boy," she said, shivering under restraint from my ministrations. She handed me back my drink and told me "bottoms up".

"You can't keep your hands off my boobs," she laughed, taking back the now empty glass. "Most children get over that when they're weaned. I guess that makes you a little younger than I thought."

She turned away and unlocked a wall cabinet with a key from her coat pocket. She swung out a box-like machine that vaguely resembled a dentist's x-ray machine. She stood me before a grid that had been superimposed on one wall.

"You said you wanted the full treatment. So stand still and let me take your picture so I can add you to my database. I do that with all my patients."

"This is a slow film camera," she went on. "It gives me special data I can't collect elsewhere. So stand still, an exposure takes about ten times longer than usual."

Leaning over the controls of the machine she turned on a series of laser lights that she adjusted until one was striking my forehead, two in my chest, one in my stomach and one in the groin. In addition a laser light also was trained on my upper and lower arms and hands and my thighs and lower legs.

Sasha disappeared behind a small wall with an observation window. "Now stand still," she called. "This may tickle a bit."

The lights dimmed and I felt suddenly like thousands of tiny feathers were attacking my skin. It was painful or uncomfortable, just different. After what seemed like forever, the machine clicked off with an audible snap.

"All done," she called.

"When do I get to see the results?" I asked.

Oh, it takes a couple of hours for this process to develop," she answered.

"So what should we do in the mean time?" I asked innocently.

Sasha just smiled and offered to show me the rest of the facility. At the head of a door leading to the third floor was a sign that said STAFF ONLY. She turned a key in the lock and opened the door. Her hand slid up the inside wall until her hand found a wall switch. With a click, the stairwell was illuminated. Taking my hand, she took me up to the third floor. To my surprise, it was laid out as an apartment.

"On a few occasions we have taken care of children over night and on weekends while their parents are away or out-of-town. When we have youngsters here, one or more of us stays at night. We refurbished this room so we'd have a place to stay when that happens," she said.

"Of course," she added. "It has other more practical uses as well."

She crossed to me, and placed her arms around my neck. Pulling my head down, she slyly slipped the tip of her tongue between my lip and began to explore the inside of my mouth. I ran my hands up and down her flanks, resting for a moment on the flair of her wide, firm hips.

Thinking "what the hell," I moved both of my hands from her hips and began to circle her wide ass with my hands and pull her into my manhood. Although our lips had not as yet parted, I heard a light moan escape her chest as her flat crotch met my hardened bulge. Her hands came up to my chest and I could feel her hands searching out the buttons of my shirt. My hands were busy themselves. I had the zipper of her dress down in record time.

I felt her shift her shoulders left and right and heard the slight swishing sound as her dress puddled to the floor at her feet. I pushed the spaghetti straps of her slip to one side and was rewarded when it joined her dress on the floor. Sasha was left in a midnight blue teddy, a pair of stockings, and her black three-inch heels. Pulling her lips away from me, she briefly cupped my crotch and said, "I'll be right back."

She crossed to a small bathroom and closed the door. I stood there, my ardor not one bit lessened. I could hear her moving around in the bathroom, but couldn't tell what she was up to. The door opened and the light clicked off as Sasha reentered the room. I saw immediately that during her quick trip to the bathroom she had removed her bra, and probably her panties as well.

Still in her heels, she finished removing my shirt and then tugged at my belt. Within a few seconds, my pants had joined my shirt and her dress on the floor. She backed me up to a plain wooden chair and had me sit. Going to her knees, Sasha slowly untied both of my shoes and slipped them off, along with my socks. I sat in the chair wearing nothing but my briefs. I reached up my hand to her face and her mouth grabbed the tip of my small fingers. Holding it lightly between her teeth, she placed her right leg up on the chair along side of me. She leaned her chest toward me, I could smell her perfume mixed with the unmistakable odor of an aroused woman. My left slipped on the inside of her thigh and I snuggled it up between her legs. She moaned out loud as my fingers touched her wetness and penetrated her.

She dropped on my lap straddling me. My finger continued to work her, and in between finger thrusts, I gently massaged her swollen clitoris. I was both excited and surprised to find her crotch completely devoid of hair. Using my wet and sticky fingers, I parted the metal snaps that separated me from her pussy. Almost immediately her pulled herself forward until her bare sex rubbed against my crotch.

With a now or never thrust of my chin, I snuggled my nose in between the cleft of her ample tits and used my face to stroke them. My free hand reached up and cupped her massive hooter and rubbed it in a wide and generous circle. The nipple was so stiff it felt less like a nipple and more like a solid rod of flesh. Suddenly, there was nothing more important than my getting my lips latched on to her juggs.

I pulled my left hand free and used it to release her other jugg from its silk confinement. The teddy was nothing more than a circle of blue silk around her midriff. Sasha, her eyes closed tightly, weaved back and forth slowly on my lap. My tongue and hands were extremely busy massaging and kneading her massive mounds. I'd swear they almost had a flavor to them.

"Oh yes, lover," Sasha gasped as I latched on her right breast like a leech. I circled the aureole of her nipple with the tip of my tongue, and then slowly licked the underside of each massive hooter. I lowered my head to her chest to take a moment's respite.

Sasha had her hands placed on both of my shoulders, her back arched in the classic pose of a woman deep in arousal. She pulled away from me and slowly slid off my lap toward the floor. My legs and briefs were coated in her juices. She reached up and tugged away at either side of my briefs. Lifting myself slightly, she gently pulled off my one remaining piece of clothing. Grabbing my hand she pulled me to my feet and led me to the bedroom of the apartment. The room was dominated by a large brass bed. Pulling down the cover, she climbed on the bed. Still on her hands and knees, I leaped on in back of her -- kneeling stomach to back on our knees -- I continued my attention on her mammaries.

Pulling the covers down, we both slipped between the sheets. The night light in the bedroom gave off enough light to be able to see each other clearly. I entered her in the classic missionary position and she crossed her legs over my back, locking me in place. As I thrust into her, I began to think my eyes were deceiving me. It seemed with every thrust of my penis, her tits seemed to swell. Impossible, but true. Even in the dim light I could see that her breasts had indeed gotten larger, her nipples and aureoles were a rich chocolate brown in color.

Sasha's attention was elsewhere, her arms had circled my neck, her hands locked in place and her eyes closed, she counter-thrust in perfect synchronization with my actions. I could feel myself building toward climax, and as if she knew, Sasha tightened her pelvic muscles and whispered, "Not yet."

With surprising strength, Sasha rolled to the side and assumed the dominate position. From her kneeling position she kept my manhood firmly inside of her. She wiggled slowly back and forth and side to side. I was amazed at how much bigger her tits had gotten. I reached up to them with both hands and squeezed them. Sasha let out a cry -- half pain and half ecstasy -- as if her breasts were suddenly tender. I dropped my hands as Sasha started building herself toward climax. She rode up and down on me and grasped each of her breast, kneading them with a ferocity that surprised me.

And then it happened. I felt something cool and wet striking my chest and face. I opened my eyes in time to see little globs of white milk forming on either of her teats. That sight alone made my dick feel like it grew even stiffer. I was astonished when her hands grasped her breasts and squeezed them again and a clear jet of liquid erupted from her nipples and struck me in the face. I instinctively licked the juice.

The back of my mind was yelling that this wasn't normal, but the taste and smell of her milk was an aphrodisiac I couldn't resist. With my own guttural yells joining hers I propped myself up on my elbows and thrust my mouth over the first of her jiggling breasts I could catch.

There was no mistake, Sasha was full of milk. I, the ultimate tit hound, had never made it with a lactating woman and this was the ultimate thrill. And yet in my passion, I hardly seemed aware of what I was doing. I knew I was sucking and swallowing for all I was worth, but it was almost as if it was somebody else doing it and not me.

There I was -- lying flat on my back -- thrusting as hard as I could into the dark-haired beauty and sucking on the sweetest tasting liquid I'd ever had in my mouth. I would have thought I'd have cum by now, but no matter how excited I got, I wouldn't let myself climax. Sasha arched her back again and the nipple popped out of my mouth. In an instant, I felt myself building toward climax. I felt like red lights were flashing on and off behind my eyes as I erupted between her legs with a force of like the Death Star from Star Wars exploding.

Sasha came with me, screaming in a frenzy as she continued to pump up and down on me. Falling to her side, she kissed me and thrust her breast back into my mouth.

"Suck me lover," she whispered. "Suck my hot milk."

I needed no further invitation. My lips searched and found the nipple and I filled my mouth with her delicious milk. The more I sucked, the more excited she got. After about ten minutes, I had recovered enough so that when she noticed I had stiffened again, she rolled to her back and pulled me on top.

Two. Three. Four times we made love. She couldn't get enough of me and I seemed to have a stamina I'd never possessed before. Finally, exhausted, I rolled off of Sasha and laid quietly beside her. I nestled my face between her soft breasts and I felt her fingers twirling the hair on the top of my head. My last thoughts before dropping off to sleep were ones of pure contentment.

An hour or so later, I awoke. Sasha lay asleep at my side. I edged to the side of the bed and staggered toward the bathroom. My legs felt like rubber. I hopped in the shower and cleaned myself off. I felt a movement beside me as I shampooed and realized that Sasha had joined me. Her hands began to soap my body and I reciprocated. As I washed the soap out of my eyes and hair, I beheld Sasha in all her beauty once again. We stood in the shower, the water cascading over us and I continued to kiss and caress her.

She pulled my mouth down to her nipples once again. I noticed that she had nowhere near as much milk as she had earlier, but I sucked until both teats came up dry. We exited the shower and she insisted on toweling me off. After drying my hair and back, she knelt and dried both of my legs. It was only when she stood did I notice that she and I seemed to be the same height. I looked down, but we were both barefoot. Dismissing it, we walked back into the room. While she slipped into a bathrobe I started to dress.

Almost everything I put on seemed to fit loosely. I buttoned my shirt. "God," I thought. "I look like I'm wearing a tent!"

Sasha walked over and circled her arms around my neck. "Going so soon?" she purred, "Seems like we've hardly started."

With that, she began to unbutton my shirt.

"What the hell ..." I thought, returning her kiss.

I was getting hungry, so we both went downstairs to look for something to eat in the kitchen. As we passed the front door, we stopped for a moment to kiss. I opened my eyes briefly to see our reflections in the glass of the front door. Something was wrong, but at first I couldn't put my finger on it. Then it dawned on me -- Sasha had to bend over to kiss me -- it was as if she was taller than I was.

I left Sasha in the kitchen getting food and went back to the third floor. I immediately began to dress, but nothing fit. It was as if every article of my clothing had been substituted for a much larger man's. But then it dawned on me, my clothes hadn't gotten bigger, somehow, impossibly, I had gotten smaller. Rushing as fast as my oversized clothes would allow me, I went to find Sasha.

There was a full length mirror on the landing to the second floor. One look in the mirror told me the whole story ... I was not shrinking, rather I looked younger -- much younger than I should be. I looked like a 16 year old.

I rubbed my hands across my now smooth cheeks. With a clunk, my pants fell from my hips and were gathered around my ankles. In a panic and not know what to do, I staggered back against the far wall. I looked like a boy caught in his daddy's pants. Whatever was wrong with me, I needed help. I picked up a phone off one of the office desks, but the line was off.

In desperation, I reached out to the only other person I could think of .... Sasha. Gathering up my pants, I went to the kitchen. I stood wordlessly in the door to the kitchen, but Sasha had her back to me. She stood there, naked and bent looking inside the refrigerator. Her ass and bare beaver glistened, but my mind, for once, wasn't on sex.

"Sasha!" I shouted, or would have had my voice not cracked.

She turned around, not the least surprised it seemed at my appearance, and bit a celery stalk she held in her hand.

"O, dear," she said matter-of-factly. "It didn't take as long as I thought."

"What's happening to me," I asked in my cracking voice.

"Isn't obvious?" she replied. "You're getting younger. In fact, you're getting a lot younger."

"I told you we're doing longevity research here, and that some of our tests involved guinea pigs ... what ever made you think that all our guinea pigs were animals?"

Sasha turned and closed the door of the stainless steel refrigerator. In the reflection, it was obvious that I had continued to grow even younger. Now I looked no more than 13.

I didn't even Sasha until I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway beside me..

"Michael?" she said.

I stood there, my shirt hem hanging almost to my knees. My hands were lost inside the shirt. Sasha was now much taller than I was. I reckoned I couldn't be more than four and a half feet tall. I couldn't even begin to guess how old I was.

I felt unbidden tears forming in my eyes as I explained what had happened to me.

"We'd better get you upstairs," she said. "The process is really picking up speed."

She picked up a blanket and headed toward the stairs. My legs had gotten considerably shorter and I seemed to be having trouble with my coordination. Sasha, sensing my trouble, held out her hand to me and with one small hand holding the rail and one hand holding Sasha, I almost unconsciously headed toward the stairs.

Then, as if a spell had been broken, I shouted "NO!", and ran toward the front hall as fast as my much shorter legs could carry me. I pulled and pulled at the door, but it was locked with a keyed deadbolt and only Sasha had the key. I stopped and looked at myself. My hands were almost at the elbows of a shirt that was too tight on me just a few hours ago. My underwear had gone when I lost my pants. I looked like what I was, a little kid in a dress.

I turned to see Sasha looming above me. The top of my head was now well below her magnificent breasts.

"Please, you must change me back," I squeaked with the voice of a small adolescent. She didn't even answer, she just bent over and picked me up and carried me to her office. She dumped me rather unceremoniously on the floor. Leaning over, she snatched my shirt off, leaving me naked. I looked at my hands and body. I had lost any semblance of adulthood. My hands and feet were short and childlike. My stomach, arms and legs were covered in the soft skin generally called babyfat.

Sasha's office furniture seemed like pieces out of Jack in the Beanstalk. I knew I was under three feet tall now. I could hear Sasha moving around the desk. I crossed to the door but the knob was well out on my reach. Whatever was happening to me had picked up steam. I could watch as things continued to appear to grow around me.

Sasha, her legs akimbo, watching me dwindle with that smile she had in the bar. It was at this point I noticed my legs getting wobbly. I attempted to walk but had to reach out to the chair for support. I was now too small to climb into it. I kept trying to walk but my legs got progressively weaker. Finally, my left leg buckled under me and I tumbled to the floor.

I heard Sasha move closer to me, looming over me like a giantess. With a broad smile on her face, she stooped over and picked me up. She carried a towel which she laid in the center of her examining room. She placed me in the center of the towel. I screamed and yelled at her, but I noticed that my teeth had vanished along with my adulthood. My cries were those of a child -- no, not a child, an infant.

"Now, now, Michael," she cooed. "Almost over. There's a good boy."

By now I had little or no coordination over my movements. It was as if my intellect had obtained a divorce from my body. Not accepting my fuss, Sasha picked up straps from the side of the gurney and secured me. My hands and fingers tugged, but my body and coordination were no longer a match for even this simple device.

Sasha had put on her lab coat and then began another thorough examination of me. She weighed and measured me, tested my eyesight, my hearing, and my reflexes, and drew blood. She even penetrated me with a small catheter and drew a urine sample. I was not prepared when she rolled me over on my stomach and proceeded to take my temperature.

After she completed her examination, she laid me on my back and resecured the strap and then covered me in a small blanket. She picked up a small microphone attached to her computer and began to speak.

"Test subject number 41: Michael X. Subject was a 28 year old man -- merge with physical data collected earlier this evening of the subject's adult characteristics -- with no family or close personal attachments. The subject is also between jobs and able to disappear for periods of time without notice.

The specimen was exposed to a medium level burst at 1 billion kilohertz. Regression factor was 99.2 percent of original. The specimen exhibited no observed or cursory side effects from the process. The normal Hertzburg cascade effect was noted approximately 2:30 after initial exposure. Once the puberty threshold was crossed, regression speeded up to six times the previous rate.

The subject seems to be in excellent physical condition. Age estimate is approximately 8 months. The subject also seems fully cognizant and generally aware of his location and physical regression. However, the specimen also is limited by the present state of his physical condition. I plan a test study of the new process using this individual as my first subject. Accordingly, he will be left in his present condition for the remainder of the test period. He will be exposed to others his own age, both normal children and other regresses. The experiment will note how well the new process preserves adult memories in a rejuvenated body. End of Log 1." My mouth was opened in horror. She planned to leave me like this -- indefinitely! Sasha crossed over to me and removed the blanket. From a drawer on the other side of the room I saw her remove a small white packet -- no, not a packet -- a diaper! Taking lotion and powder, she diapered and dressed me. All this time she uttered not a word. The only noise I seemed capable of making were the ordinary gurgles of an infant.

She carried me downstairs to the nursery and brought out a small sleeper suit. After dressing me in the sleeper, she carried me over to a crib, lowered the sides and placed me inside. She tucked me under a blanket, and reached up and turned on a baby monitor.

"Michael, I know all this has been a shock to you. But I couldn't pass up the chance of using you in my experiments, especially after finding out how easy it was for you to disappear for awhile. I promise that you'll receive the finest and most loving care available. And if all goes right, I'll have you back at your favorite bar in a few weeks."

She then crossed over and turned off the lights. Before leaving me alone, she said, "Call out if you have any problems. The baby monitor is next to my bed. I imagine you're pretty tuckered out. You've had a busy day. Sleep tight, honey."

 And then I was alone.

Stunned and totally in shock over the night's events, I just laid there figuring I was dreaming and that I'd wake up from this nightmare. I must have been more tired than I thought, because I drifted off to sleep and didn't wake the rest of the night.

The minute I awoke in the morning I knew that my nightmare was really my reality. In the brightness of day, there was no mistaking that I was dressed in a sleeper and lying in a crib.

It was just after dawn when Sasha entered the room and cooed some general baby-talk phrases at me. She lifted me out of the crib and carried me to the changing table. Stripping me, she carried me to the bathroom where she placed me in a small tub of water. After my bath and dressing. She carried me to the kitchen where I was placed in a highchair. I watched her as she mixed something in a pan and drew a small bottle out of the refrigerator.

"I'll be damned," I thought. "If this bitch thinks I'll drink out of a bottle!"

She came over to me with a small dish and spoon and began trying to get me to eat, but I refused.

"Michael!" she said sternly. "I know you're not happy, but you've got to eat. You're going to be a baby until I decide to grow you up again. So get used to it and EAT!"

Reluctantly, I attempted to feed myself with the spoon, but I had no coordination. Laughing, Sasha took the spoon and ladled food into my toothless mouth. After finishing my breakfast, and cleaning me up. Sasha attempted to give me the bottle. I drew the line at this.

I think she knew how angry I was, so she said, "Let's make a deal. I'll try and treat you as an adult as much as I can when we're alone, if you'll stop acting up. When others are around, you'll be treated like the baby you are. Not too many people -- especially the day staff -- know about our experiments. So you're stuck during the day. But I might be able to make your life a little sweeter."

Carrying me back into one of the smaller rooms off the nursery, Sasha settled in a chair, holding me coddled in her arms. Slowly she undid the buttons on her top until she exposed her breast.

"See, Michael. If you're a good boy and don't give Ms. Sasha any trouble, she'll give you all the titty milk your tummy will hold. Then, when she grows you back to a big boy, she plans to take you back upstairs to the apartment and let you put your big hard cock back inside of her."

As I suckled on Sasha, I heard the first stirrings of others arriving for work. She let me finish, and then placed me over her left shoulder and patted my back till a small burp escaped me. She then took me out into the common room and told one of the staff member to enroll me. Sasha hugged me and whispered, "I've got to go to work now, so you be a good boy and I'll see you later."

I was briefly examined by one of the workers, examined for "accidents" and then dumped me rather unceremoniously into a playpen.

The funny thing was I knew exactly who I was and what had happened to me, but I seemed to be unable to act in any way other than an infant. I really was a baby.

I don't know how it did it, but I made it through the next hours. The worst thing about being an infant is that you are invisible. I know everyone sees you, but they treat you like you have no idea of what's going on around you. Try spending eight hours alone in a playpen with nothing to do if you ever want to find out what boring is.

I was mostly left to myself. Although after lunch, they carried all the infants into the common area, I had seen last night. In only a few moments, I was sitting on the padded floor of the nursery with eight other baby boys and girls. I was an adult trapped inside an eight month old baby. And the only person that knew it was the woman who did it to me. I was all alone.

**************************

I've been a baby now for almost three weeks. It's been at least three days since I last saw Sasha. Slowly but surely she is drawing away -- distancing herself from me. I'm left almost entirely in the care and keeping of other staff, most of whom I'm sure have no idea that the baby in their arms is 28-year-old hazardous waste disposal consultant.

I only have Sasha's word that she plans to age me again. But I no longer believe her. It's getting harder and harder to think like an adult. I feel a little bit of myself pass away with each day. I'm losing the ability to read -- I know what the signs on the wall are, but I can no longer make out the words. I find myself being unconsciously drawn to bright objects and toys. I can't seem to help myself.

The door opens.

It's Sasha.

Dressed to the nines, she stoops over and draws me from my playpen and carries me to the rocker. Slowly, she uncovers her left breast and raises my lips to her nipple. With closed eyes, I nurse as she hums a tuneless song.

Images and words fill my mind as all that is myself seems to be dissolving away.

"Woman are just tits and ass to you, aren't they Michael," Becky yells at me from my past.

Becky was more right than she realized. Now women are nothing but tits to me, but not the way they used to be. Now a woman's breasts are home, security and nourishment. What else do I want?

I feel myself drifting off to sleep. Good-bye world. I wonder what I grow up to be this time?

 

Copyright 1997 by the author - Do not repost without permission.

Questions, Comments? E-mail us!

STORIES BY AUTHOR | STORIES BY TITLE | STORIES BY SUBJECT
WRITING GUIDES | LINKS | OUTSIDE SOURCES