In Reverse, Part 4

By now, all of my body hair is long gone, and I only have a few pubic hairs left. They'll probably be gone in a couple of days. I mention that because I've noticed how my sex drive has slowed down. Ethan was careful to give me plenty of privacy during my puberty. He remembered how understanding I was when he was that age, and he wanted to return the favor. It was nice to be able to masturbate every day, and I did so very dilligently. But at the same time, I have to admit it's a little embarrassing to experience this surge of hormonal desire and know your son knows you're jacking off. Still, I have to say I had more fun this time around than I did during my first puberty because my parents were not as understanding as I was, and I'm sad to see my libido receding for more than one reason.

I've hit my ungrowth spurt by now too, so I'm much shorter than I used to be. I don't even look like a teenager anymore, just a kid. As I've regressed, I've continuously shrunk out of my clothes, and I've had to buy new stuff. After I shrank to fifteen, Ethan started taking me shopping once a week. I'm solidly in the kids' sizes now, wearing Star Wars and Marvel superhero T-shirts. I was a little embarrassing at first, but I got over it pretty fast because I like those things. But it's still very strange to be at the lab as a kid. I feel like the junior scientist or some middle schooler on a field trip, and I've noticed that some of my former co-workers have started to treat me that way.

Speaking of the lab, they still don't have any promising leads for halting my regression. Lorraine Wallace, the program director, has assured me that they're working on it nonstop. All other projects and experiments have been halted, and everyone is working exclusively on solving my problem. That's reassuring, but it's a little embarrassing too. If you've ever made a mistake at your job that required a few of your co-workers to correct, you have an idea of how I feel. 

But of course, this is much worse than the usual kind of workplace error because of what it's doing to me. Everywhere I go, I'm constantly reminded of the bed I made for myself and am now forced to sleep in.

That brings me to a dream I had the other night, one I'm afraid might end up coming true. I don't remember what I was doing in this dream, but I looked up and realized it was dark outside and thought, "Oh, I better get the kids to bed." 

I'd had dreams like this before, and when I did, I always forgot the kids were all older. In my dream, they were still little. So, I got up from where I was sitting and walked into the living room, where I found all three of them watching TV. But this time, it was different: they weren't the little kids they'd always been in this dream but their current ages of 25, 16, and 11. Ethan turned and saw me and said, "There you are! It's getting late. Let's get you to bed." I stared at him, confused, and then I realized how big and tall he was as he stood and walked towards me, towering over me. He reached down and picked me up, holding me to his shoulder. I felt his hand on my ass supporting me as he started up the stairs, saying, "We'll just need to make a little pit-stop before I put you down." I remember wondering what was going on, but for some reason, I never said anything about it. He carried me into a room decorated in soft, pretty colors, and I could tell it was a nursery. I started to understand just as he lowered me onto my back and started grabbing at my crotch. I heard the metal snaps being pulled, and I knew what was happening: he was changing my diaper. I woke up with a start after that, so scared of that dream coming true that I started crying. I cried until I fell asleep again.

My bedtime has gotten earlier. I now go to bed an hour after Thomas, an embarrassing development that seems necessary, considering how quickly I've begun to nod off after going to bed. Just a few weeks ago, I could have easily stayed up all night, and I can see it won't be long before I'll be going to bed at the same time as my youngest son.

Similar to the way I got closer to Sophie as I neared her age, I've been spending a lot more time with Thomas lately. As I've regressed, so have my emotions and my interests, and I've found myself drawn to a lot of the same things Thomas likes to do, one of which is wrestling.

That's what we were doing this afternoon, grappling and tumbling on the family room floor, both of us giggling and laughing. Over and over for quite some time, I won, pinning Thomas down. After a few minutes, I had pinned yet again, and I didn't notice he'd stopped laughing.

"Let me up!"

I held him down, reveling in my win.

"Let me go!"

I let him up, and he lunged at me, knocking me back. We started all over, and after a little bit, I had him pinned again.

"Okay, let me go!"

"Not until you say you're done!"

"Ugghhh, let me go!"

"Say you give and you won't wrestle anymore."

"Okay, I give!"

I let him up, and that's when I saw the tears. He was mad because he kept losing. Before I could say anything, he jumped up and ran out of the room. I went after him, trying to calm him down, but he ran right to Ethan.

"Michael pinned me down and wouldn't let me up!"

Ethan looked at me. "What happened?"

"We were wrestling. I pinned him, but I didn't hold him down long."

"How long?"

"Just until he said he gave."

Ethan took a deep breath. "Okay, you guys can wrestle if you want, but be fair about it. Let him up when he says to let him up. Be careful how you play so nobody gets hurt."

I was humiliated as I realized my son had just reprimanded me.

Today the people at the lab aged me at twelve. Now I'm a pre-teen, not even a teenager anymore. I'm officially a kid and only a year older than my youngest kid. Thomas and I are closer than ever in age and in interests. I've started sleeping in his bed with him, and it's like a sleepover for us. We'll lie there awake, talking and laughing when we're supposed to be sleeping.

"Michael? What's it like to get younger?"

"It's weird and scary."

"Scary?"

"Yeah. I don't know when it's going to stop or if it's going to stop."

"Like, you could keep going and become a baby again?"

"I guess so."

"Well, don't worry: we'll take care of you if you do."

I didn't tell him, but that's exactly what I'm afraid of.