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Chronos Continuum pt. 5
by Nomdreserv
Contact the author at Nomdreserv@phuze.com
Other Stories by Nomdreserv
CHAPTER 5: Susan's Turn
Kate and I spent a long evening with more lovemaking and more age experimentation. Before midnight, we finally restored my parents, sneaking into their room to find them cuddled angelically in each others arms on top of the sheets. I considered restoring just one of them, briefly savoring the confusion it would sow in the morning, but decided better of it. Instead, I hit the "Undo all" sequence and watched them almost instantly return to their normal size and ages, their bodies now naked below their proper-fitting T-shirts, and giving a clear view of their restored genitals. They shifted slightly, my mother's hand brushing my father's cock and stirring a visible response.
"Oops," I blushed. Seeing my parents naked as kids was one thing, but I decided a quick retreat was in order.
"At least we know that works again," Kate laughed, pulling me towards the door. "If they aren't too confused when they wake up, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they picked right up where they left off earlier in the evening."
Feeling a little guilty for playing around with them earlier, I decided to shave a few years off them both as a sort of a welcome back present. Of course, I still wasn't sure if the effects of the device more permanent, or would disappear at the end of the promised to three day charge.
Kate closed the door and sadly announced that she should go home.
"I think my staying the night will only complicate things more," she explained. "If your parents don't remember what happened, finding me in your bed could be an unpleasant situation. And explaining me to Susan could be difficult in any case. "
I started to raise the control, but her hand held mine back.
"Please," she said with pleading eyes, "let me keep my youth for the weekend. I know I've got to go back by Monday, but it feels so good. I want to be a teen again for a couple of days. Go to the beach, the mall, and be seen. " She turned seductive again. "And of course, I'd like you to come over to my house tomorrow to pick up where we left off. "
"Well. . . " I had to admit, another session at Kate's was awfully attractive.
"Thanks, David. " She kissed me again. "Did me some time to get a new wardrobe together, and maybe a few surprises. Give me a call in the afternoon. "
I had trouble falling asleep after Kate left. No more from sexual tension - she had a thoroughly relieved that, but from all the exciting possibilities the age change device still presented. What were its full capabilities and limits? How did it work, and for how long? I also puzzled over the mysterious Chronos Continuum that had apparently sent it, and why they had selected me as a potential member. What was the nature of the organization, its purpose, and, if it meant keeping the machine, how could I be a member? Of course, my thinking produced no real answers. I heard Susan come in about 1 a.m., and finally fell asleep sometime after 2.
I suspect it was the lack of sleep and the exertion of the previous night that made me sleep in so late, and lead to my fantasy world turning upside down.
I woke to Susan's shaking me, barely opening my eyes to see her standing in her robe my bed.
"Wake up," she demanded.
"Go away," I responded, rolling over and closing my eyes again.
"I want some answers. "
My brain still hadn't been engaged, so I just mumbled, "Go ask mom and dad. "
"That's part of the problem. They're gone, leaving a weird note. Something strange was going on here last night" I heard her cross my room towards the door. "And I suspect this had something to do with it. "
The tone of her voice and a sudden realization made me open my eyes in panic. I threw my pillow aside, and my heart leapt as nothing met my eye.
"Looking for this?" She held the device in her hand.
I jumped out of bed towards her.
"Give me that!"
"Ah, ah,ahhhh," she held up hand. "Stay where you are or this gets dropped hard!"
I fell back a step.
"That's better. Now let's have that talk. " She began tracing her index finger along the control.
"I don't know what this is," she began. "But since you were sleeping with that, and given your reaction just now, it must be pretty important. "I watched nervously as her fingers lingered on different controls. She was trying to study the device without taking her eyes off me.
"Now. I come home past curfew without complaint from mom and dad. I woke up this morning and find this note in the kitchen," she pulled a paper from her robe pocket.
"'Dear kids,'" she read. "'Your mother and I need to get away by ourselves for a while. We're both very confused about last night and need to work things out. Money is in the pot for the weekend. Will call. Dad.'
What does he mean, David? What about last night?"
"I don't know," I lied, and hoped convincingly. "Kate came over, we had dinner. . . "
"You had a beer and pizza party in the family room," she corrected. "The stuff's still there, not to mention the stains. And I found some of mom and dad's clothes on the kitchen floor. "
I mentally kicked myself for not cleaning up.
"Ummmm. . . " I floundered.
"And then this," she tapped the control. "This has something in it to do with it, I bet. If this can get Mom out of her skirt and eating pizza on the floor, it must be pretty amazing. What is it, some kind of hypno-ray?"
"Don't be ridiculous. It's just a control for my computer. "
"Oh?" She arched her eyebrows. "Then you won't mind if I do THIS!"
She pushed one of the buttons hard, with the control aimed at me. I yelled and jumped at her, even as I felt the slight tingling Kate had described, but she darted back into the hall, and I came up short. Literally as it turned out, although I didn't feel any different as I stood up.
Susan looked at me in astonishment.
"Hey, you got smaller. " She looked me up and down, wary of another attempt at my grabbing her. I realized I was almost her height instead of about four inches taller, and decided I had to get the control immediately.
Something in my expression or posture betrayed me, however, and Susan ran back towards her room while holding the device at me. As I ran after her, I felt the tingling again, and could feel my pajamas loosen.
"Cool," she exclaimed as I came through the door into her room. She had positioned herself with her bed between us, effectively blocking me again. "Now you're shorter than me. " The device was still held towards me. "This is awesome. How small can I shrink you?"
I launched myself after her again, my baggy pajamas flapping on me, the arms covering my hands, and the legs dragging on the floor, but she danced away again. As I turned to come after her, my pajama bottoms lost their hold and puddled on the floor. I quickly moved to cover myself, but not quickly enough. Susan and gasped as she saw my almost hairless and decidedly smaller genitals.
"Hey," she realized. "You're not just shrinking, you're getting young. " She appraised me critically. "Junior high at best, David. " She giggled, then became serious, still holding the control at me. "Now, do I keep this on, or do you want to talk for real?"
I was a mortified looking up into my little sister's eyes. I could feel how much smaller my arms and legs were, and couldn't even be sure of overpowering her if I managed to reach her. In desperation, I decided on the truth and told her the whole story, my voice cracking embarrassingly. I covered the highlights, but left out of the graphic details, unsure of her reaction. She looked at me thoughtfully throughout, then laughed softly.
"Mom and Dad screwing like horny teenagers? I would've loved to see that, especially after all the talks Mom's had with me about keeping control and saying 'no'. " She looked at me with raised eyebrows again. "And you and Kate getting it on?" She giggled again. "I wonder how she'd feel about you keeping your date like you are now?"
"But, Susan. . . "
"Quiet, David. Or would you like to be too young to talk?"
I shut up.
"Let me see," she tapped the control quietly. "Oh, yes. I could have a lot of fun with this. Let's see, those obnoxious seniors, that slimeball Mike who dumped me for Courtney, and course Courtney herself. She won't steal too many boys without breasts, will she?"
"Susan, you've got to be careful. This thing has to be kept secret. "
"You don't sound like you were too careful," she snapped back. "Shooting people right and left for the fun of it. Well, I'm going to have fun, too, but pay back some scores at the same time. But first," she smiled again, "I want to see this work some more. "
I paled.
"Oh don't worry, LITTLE brother. I've been pretty impatient about growing up, and right now I think I'll do it. And don't get any ideas," she added. "I'm bigger and stronger than you right now, and I'll put you in diapers if you try anything." She waved the control. " Excuse me please."
She went into our parents' room to stand before the full length mirror.
"I wonder if this bounces off the mirror like a remote control?" She mused as she aimed at the reflection and pressed the up button. Within seconds, we knew the answer, as she grew perhaps half an inch taller. She looked at herself critically, then, to my shock, opened her robe to expose her body, naked except for panties.
"Hmmm, a bit bigger," she touched her breasts. "But let's keep going. " She reactivated the device and watched. She had apparently finished growing in height, but her breasts became larger and lost their pyramid shape, first rounding, then becoming tear drop shaped and hanging slightly. Her hair darkened slightly, and her nose and cheek bones became more defined. She was certainly older than college age, and probably mid to late twenties before she stopped.
"Not bad," she decided. "A C cup at least, and my complexion clears up. That's a relief. " Her voice was half an octave lower. She turned and dropped the robe entirely. Her legs were much fuller, and her panties stretched tightly across her larger ass. "Maybe a little to full down there," she added, then spotted me watching.
"Well, well, little man. Enjoying the show?"
I realized with horror that my smaller penis had become erect while watching my sister. She looked straight at it.
"You know, it's not polite to point. "
She laughed and aimed the control at me again. I felt the tingle and watched helplessly as my erection not only disappeared, but my penis and scrotum shrank back to prepubescence. But the time she stopped, my pajama top hung on me like a sail, and I realized I was only chest high to Susan.
"Susan," I started, before stopping in embarrassment at my alto voice. I tried to clear my throat to no avail.
"David, you look so cute," she mocked. "I can't tell you what a rush this is. . . But wait, you already know, don't you? How's it feel to be on the receiving end?"
I only shrugged hopelessly, my hands lost in the baggy arm sleeves.
"Well get used to it. You're going to be my 'little' brother all weekend, at least while mom and dad are away. " Her eyes became dreamy. "And who knows, maybe for longer. " I waited while she thought, and had just decided to leave before she regressed me further when she started back to alertness.
"I just got a great idea," she turned towards me, still unconcerned by her nakedness. Mr. Wilson has been giving me a hard time in chemistry class. When I didn't hand in an assignment last week, he said he needed to talk to Mom or Dad about me. I think it's time he met "Mom", don't you? But he may be a bit surprised the way the interview goes. "
"Susan," I scolded her in my child's voice, "Don't be nuts. You can't. . . " But I broke off when she raised the control threateningly. "O. . . OK. " I hung my head.
"That's better. " She lowered her hand, then looked again in the mirror. "I would have stopped here, but I should probably be a little older to be Mom. " She again admired her mature form. "David, I'm still going to let you watch. Enjoy yourself," she giggled. "Or at least as much as you can under current conditions. " She aimed again the reflection.
Her breasts became larger, but sagged a little, the nipples pointing down. Her abdomen thickened, and a slight paunch developed at her pelvis. Her legs also thickened, with small wrinkled patches forming on her upper thighs. Veins in her hands and feet became prominent. Her nose and cheekbones sharpened, and faint lines formed around her eyes and across her forehead. Her buttocks drooped and spread.
"Yuck!" She turned it off. "God, I'm so old. I look like...like, Mom," she finally decided. "Well, only while I need a disguise." She looked at me and glanced at my crotch. "You didn't seem to enjoy the show as much this time," she giggled, "despite obviously trying."
I had been so fascinated watching her metamorphosis that I only now realized that my hand had been stroking my penis during the change. My heart sank as I realized that it showed no life at all, small and flaccid. It was still pleasurable to rub it, but the sensations were nothing compared to an erection. I mean, you spend years not knowing what it's like and not missing it, but once you've experienced an erection, you never want to do without it again. Despair seized me again, and despite retaining my normal mind, I found my body beginning to sob.
Susan's expression softened. She knelt down on the floor and hugged me to her naked breasts. However, her larger size and maternal attitude only reinforced my plight, and I began to cry harder.
"Shhh," she soothed, looking for all the world like a mother comforting her young son, albeit both strangely dressed. "I'll change you back." My crying eased and I looked at her hopefully through my tears. It was strange, but the pressure from her breasts felt soothing rather than exciting to my small body. "After I've had some fun," she finished. My tears threatened to returned. "Sorry, David. You're normally so much bigger and stronger than me, I won't take the chance of changing you back until I'm ready. Tonight, I promise. OK?" she smiled reassuringly.
Not having much choice, I just nodded.
"Tell you what. I'm going to try on some of Mom's clothes. They'll probably fit better right now," she admitted ruefully. "You go put on yours, and I'll zap 'em to fit you."
"OK." I sniffed.
When I returned, I wore a comically oversized polo shirt and boxer shorts which I held up with my left hand. I used my right to hold my pants, which were too ridiculously long to wear. My socks came up to my knees, and still flopped as I walked. Susan had changed into one of her own scoop-neck tank tops, that emphasized her now adult cleavage ludicrously. She wore the shortest skirt from mom's closet, a pair of light hose, and high heels. The overall effect was of an aging bimbo.
"Sexy enough? At least for a matron." she asked rhetorically.
"For what?"
"For seducing my chemistry teacher."
"You're crazy."
"Careful..."
"Look," I continued, "putting aside the danger and immorality as minor concerns, he's not going to respond to that get-up, especially if your the mother of a student."
"Well, Mr. Wilson, grumpy, forty-something science teacher might not, but I'll bet Bobby Wilson, the 14 year old innocent won't be able to resist it."
My eyes went wide. "Are you kidding?"
"Nope. Think how you just reacted - and that was watching your sister," she chided. "How much control do young boys have?"
"Not much."
"Exactly. By the time I'm through, he'll be so embarrassed, he'll pass me just to make sure 'Mom' never has to come back. Hell, I'll coast the rest of the year. Now, let's take care of you."
She aimed the control at me. I shut my eyes in case she decided to regress me again. Instead, after a slight tingle, I felt my clothes reform around me and tighten appropriately. I opened my eyes and saw a striped T-shirt, snug cotton briefs and plain white socks had replaced my previous wear, and the pants in my hand were now a pair of small jeans, also perfect size.
Susan whistled. "David, this is one SERIOUS machine."
I turned to run back down the hall. "Wait," I called. "My shoes."
She was incredulous. "You're not going out are you?"
"Why not. I might as well make the best of it.:
She shrugged. "OK." She followed and shrank some sneakers. I breathed a sigh of relief; I needed mobility for my plan. I intended to shadow Susan and look for a chance to retake the control. We walked downstairs.
"Don't go too far. I'll be back by this early this afternoon in case Mom and Dad get back tonight."
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Mr. Wilson always works on papers at school on Saturday, but usually alone. Don't worry, I'll be care..."
We were interrupted as we stepped outside by wailing from the next yard. Looking over, we saw our neighbor, Mrs. Cates, a young mother in her early thirties, sitting on a deck chair, with her 4 year old daughter Rachel across her knees, the youngster's dress pulled up preparatory for a spanking. Little Rachel seemed like a nice girl to us, but her mother was very strict, and frequently resorted to spankings for discipline. Rachel was now crying and kicking.
"I dint mean to spill. It was a accident."
Mrs. Cates answered with a slap on Rachel's bottom.
"Well then, this will teach you to be more careful."
Susan and I looked at each other, and for once agreed. Without a word, she raised the device and pressed.
We were expecting the changes and noticed them immediately, but it was some time before Mrs. Cates did. Her hair lengthened, and her face youthened to a teenager, now looking like a big sister administering the spanking. Even her breasts dwindling didn't break her concentration, and we watched the front of her shirt slowly flatten. It wasn't until she began losing height more rapidly as she passed back through puberty that she paused.
Little Rachel was becoming heavier and harder to control, and actually looked bigger in her lap. Her hand covered less and less surface with each blow, and she now saw that her hands and fingers were much smaller. As she stopped to hold up her hands to examination, she finally noticed that her shirt and bra were ridiculously loose, and when her gaze shifted down to see why, she found her breasts were nonexistent. She gasped, and began struggling under Rachel's increased weight, now realizing that her feet no longer reached the ground. Her leg kicking resulted in both shoes dropping off. In an unrecognizable, high-pitched voice, she yelled.
"Rachel, get off me! What's happening?"
I glanced at Susan. "The awareness button?" I suggested.
Susan shook her head, tight-lipped, but did motion me back so that we were better hidden from their sight.
"No. I think she'll learn her lesson better if she can tell what's happening."
Rachel had noticed her mom's blows becoming less and less forceful and then stopping. She twisted off her lap at her command, and then looked up in surprise. Her mother was much smaller, with a look of wide-eyed panic setting off her now innocent appearing face. Her big clothes looked silly on her child-like frame. As Mrs. Cates struggled to her feet, Rachel saw that her mother was now only slightly taller than she, and still shrinking. In another moment, they were looking eye to eye, and Mrs. Cates gasped again as her shorts slipped to the ground.
"Mommy, you're small as me."
Only briefly, as Susan actually regressed her to a slightly younger age, and Mrs. Cates now found herself looking up into her baby's eyes. Her shirt slipped over one shoulder, the bra strap already gone, threatening to expose her completely. Susan let up, and for a minute, mother and daughter stared unbelievingly at each other. However, Mrs. Cates then found herself starting to tilt her head more to look Rachel in the eye, and assumed she was shrinking again, but then Rachel squeezed her eyes shut.
"Owww. My shoes hurt." Fortunately, the shoes slipped off her expanding feet easily. "And now my dress feels funny."
They watched as Rachel appeared to gain the inches that her mother had lost. Her dress began to tear at the seams, especially as she began to fidget uncomfortably in it, and it rode up to expose her printed cotton undies which were also very tight. Buttons popped off the back, and the shoulder straps broke, the front of the dress fluttering down. Shortly thereafter, the waist popped, and it dropped completely. She was now about 5 feet tall, more than a foot taller than her mom, and clad only in stretched panties.
"Rachel," the smaller girl spoke frantically, "what are you doing? What's happening? Stop it! We have to get help." She started towards their door, but was hampered by her remaining clothes and flopping athletic socks.
"Wait, Mommy," Rachel ordered, feeling growing authority over her tiny parent. "This feels good."
She was rubbing her fingers over her nipples, which began to expand as though under her touch. Small bumps formed beneath them, followed by larger swellings which showed around her hands. her height shot past 5 feet, and her hips began to flare, her enlarging pelvis finally shredding her panties and leaving her completely exposed, as well as revealing a small patch of hair which thickened on her pubic triangle. Her lips and nose developed to sensual maturity, and her brown hair cascaded down her back. She now dwarfed her almost toddler mother.
"Wow, Mommy. Now I all growed up," she announced matter-of-factly.
Mrs. Cates was near tears from hysteria. Since she could imagine no other cause for their transformations, and since Rachel seemed to be enjoying the change, she decided her daughter must be its agent. She stalked back to stand in front of her, briefly disconcerted to find herself looking up at the underside of the maturing girl's breasts, so different from her own now flat chest.
"Rachel," she piped shrilly. "Stop this at once! Do you hear me?" She reached up to swat Rachel's behind, now about eye level, and to an impartial eye, quite curvaceous and attractive. Her tiny hand covered only part of one cheek, and her blow felt shockingly weak to her against her child's firm ass. It also had a surprising effect. Rachel barely felt the slap, realizing just how weak her mother had become, but it brought forth many memories. She caught her mother's hands and held them firmly.
"No, Mommy. I don't want you to hit me any more." Her adult face frowned at the small child. "It's bad to hit, so you're being bad. You know what that means."
Mrs. Cates paled, and began to thrash ineffectively in her daughter's grip.
"No, Rachel - you can't. I'm your MOTHER."
Rachel just smiled, a beautiful woman unconcerned about logic or her nakedness.
"I think I'll be mommy for a while," she decided, "and you be the little girl. And you've been bad."
Mrs. Cates began crying, but Rachel just sat down, pulled her mother across her lap, and pulled up her dress-like shirt. Her baggy underwear was pulled down easily, exposing her tiny, pink bottom. With a big smile, and obvious relish, though without much technique, she began spanking her mother. Mrs. Cates sobbed and kicked until her bottom was stinging red, then Rachel let her up. She touched her bottom gingerly, her exposed pubes confirming her complete regression and making her cry even harder.
"Now we're even," Rachel said. "So let's play." She looked them both over. "But first we better get dressed. I'll take your clothes." She pulled the shirt off her surprised mother, drawing the bra along with it and leaving the tiny girl naked. Mrs. Cates couldn't help looking miserably at her flat, hairless body and comparing it to her daughter's voluptuous figure. "You help me get dressed, Mommy, and then I'll dress you up as my little baby."
She picked up the clothes and pulled the sobbing child with her into the house.
I looked at Susan in shock.
"Aren't you going to reverse it? You can't leave them like that."
"Why not? Her husband is away for the weekend, and who'll believe her if she tells? Besides, I bet she'll be so afraid of Rachel, she won't try anything."
"It's too risky. If..."
She raised the control at me.
"OK, OK," I backed down. I needed to keep my remaining size to have any chance of stopping her. "But you're asking for trouble."
"We'll see," she dismissed me. "Now go play. It's time Mr. Wilson grew down."
She got into the car and drove off. I ran to my bike to follow her, but realized with chagrin that I was too small to ride it. Fortunately, my parents rarely threw anything out, and I was able to pull out my old bike from grade school. It felt strange yet familiar to climb on it again, and I pedaled off towards Susan's school.
Unnoticed, a figure appeared from the side of the house and made its way towards the Cates' house.
...........................................................................................
It took me 20 minutes to reach the school. I had been very self conscious when I started, but of course, no one paid any attention to me. After all, you wouldn't look twice at a 9 year old boy on a bike, unless someone mentioned that he had been a 6 foot sophomore in college the day before.
I wondered if Susan had come straight here, then noticed a group of skinny 12 year old girls awkwardly practicing routines in baggy cheerleader uniforms. Their skirts kept slipping down, and at least two had given up trying to keep their shoes on, but they otherwise seemed oblivious to their absurd appearance. I again mentally cursed Susan for her recklessness, despite her apparent use of the awareness control this time. What would happen when someone who knew these girls came by? Or worse, if they went home before she changed them back? I decided I had to act immediately. Since I knew the school, I parked my bike and entered through the gym door, always kept open for weekend activities. Just inside, I almost stumbled over a naked baby girl, sitting amidst a crumpled pile of a cheerleader's uniform, goo-ing happily and chewing on an empty bra strap. Susan had gone too far: I mean, a group of junior high kids on property would probably pass casual inspection, but a baby?
"I wonder if you're Courtney?" I asked the infant. She burbled incomprehensibly. I picked up the baby and her discarded clothing, and started again towards the chemistry department. As we neared the lecture room, I could hear Susan's voice.
"Shhh," I told the baby, settling her on the floor on top of her sweater, and hoping she could understand. I then crept forward.
"But, Mr. Wilson," she said in exasperation, "be reasonable. I mean, these problems are way hard. Why I'll bet even you have trouble figuring some of these out."
A tired but calm voice returned, "I assure you, Mrs. Green..."
"Call me Margie."
"Er, Margie. These are basic problems that should pose no difficulty."
"For example."
"Well, take problem 3."
By this time, I had reached the door, and peered cautiously around the corner.
Robert Wilson, a bearded, middle aged man with receded hairline was dressed in an open-necked dress shirt and khaki pants. He had leaned over to trace his finger along the equation in question, and didn't notice Susan surreptitiously bring out the device and press the down button. She must have hit it hard, because his transformation was rapid. His hairline descended again, his face smoothed, and slight paunch disappeared. Then his beard began to thin and finally just disappeared as he receded into his teens. Susan must have hit the mental adjustment button as well, because his voice faltered even as it began to rise in pitch.
"You see, osmolality is calculated by the...um...you take...it's like..." The concept was clearly becoming impossible for the young teen to grasp, but it kept his attention sufficiently fixed that he didn't notice as he began to lose height, and Susan's head reached and then passed his. By the time she stopped, she faced a 13 or 14 year old boy, his baggy pants drooping dangerously.
Susan interrupted him.
"See," she said triumphantly, "no wonder Susan couldn't answer these."
"I don't understand," he answered in a contralto, then looked up and did a double take as he found himself looking straight into Susan's cleavage. He gulped and cleared his throat nervously.
Susan started again.
"Mr. Wilson...or, Bobby - do you mind if I call you Bobby?" She put her foot on a desk chair as though to scratch her ankle, allowing her skirt to ride up past mid thigh, and I guessed, flashing him a view of her panties from his vantage point. He began to pale and perspire, but I also noticed a bulge form at his crotch despite the looseness of his pants. "I don't see how you can criticize Susan for not doing problems you can't do yourself."
"I...I..." His eyes darted from cleavage to crotch helplessly and the bulge stiffened.
She leaned over, pretending to look at the worksheet, dangling her beasts and exposing them further. Suddenly she pretended to hear a noise and turned towards the window, "accidentally" brushing her thigh and ass against his jutting penis.
"Oh. Oh. Ohhh." Mr. Wilson moaned uncontrollably.
Susan turned back with apparent concern, still brushing her body against his protruding member.
"Why Bobby, what's wrong?" she asked, all innocence.
"Oh...ahhhhhh."
"Are you all right?" she smirked, knowing what had happened. He blushed deeply.
"I, uh....I..."
She looked down and found what she expected: a wet stain spreading over the front of his khakis.
"Oh, dear. You DIDN'T!" she feigned horror. "You just orgasmed?"
He hung his head in shame and mumbled something.
"You're SORRY?" Susan snapped. "Sorry doesn't cover it, MR. WILSON. Wait until the school board hears about this. What kind of perverts and sex maniacs do they have teaching my daughter?"
"I...I...I'm sorry," he repeated. "Please, I don't understand. It won't happen again. It's never happened before. Well, not since..." he trailed off.
"All I can say," Susan drew herself upright and towered above the shrunken teacher, "is if my Susan has one reason to complain about you for the rest of the year, I shall have no choice but to report this to the authorities. Good day!"
She spun on her heel, breaking into a satisfied smile as she left him behind. I crouched and prepared to tackle her, trusting to recover the control in the confusion.
Unfortunately, the baby chose that moment to let out a squeal of triumph having finally managed to suck her own toes, and Susan stopped suddenly after just entering the hall, spotting us both. I jumped, but she had braced herself and managed to catch me fast in her arms.
"So, still lying and trying to trick me." She twisted my arm behind my back and then threw me down the hall. I burned with shame at how easily she had handled my physical attack, reminded again of my reduced circumstances.
"Pick up the baby and step into that next room across the hall," she ordered.
I set the sucking baby and her clothes on the floor and waited. Susan followed me in after a minute and closed the door. If either of us had looked out the window more carefully, we would have seen the cheerleaders outside back to normal size.
"You should have seen the look on Mr. Wilson's face when I changed him back just now," she laughed. "He is totally clueless about how he lost it like that. And I don't think he'll be going anywhere until that wet spot dries - I saw him lock his door." Her mouth reset into a frown, and she tapped her foot. "I thought I could trust you, but it's obvious I can't. I think little Courtney needs a playmate." She raised the control resolutely this time, neither of us noticing the door behind her open slightly.
"Go ahead," I finally defied her. "You're going to ruin everything by zapping everybody anyway. We'll all end up in trouble, and they'll take the control away, and that'll be the end of it. So go ahead, do it so I won't have to watch you mess up anymore."
I hadn't expected anger to accomplish anything, but Susan froze in open-mouthed surprise. However, the real reason for her hesitation then manifested. With a small cry, she shrank almost instantly into her collapsing clothes, and a few seconds later, a naked infant crawled out from beneath the tank top and skirt, looked around in shock, and began to cry.
I leapt forward and snatched the control from where it had fallen from her hand. It looked undamaged.
"Yes!" I shouted, before remembering to keep my voice down. I lifted it in triumph and waved it at the baby beneath me. "Thank God, maybe I can still set things right." Susan looked at me with as perplexed an expression a 6 month old could manage. "What happened," I asked, "you have the thing pointed backwards?"
A new male voice cleared his throat just outside the door, which then swung open the rest of the way to reveal a thin, dapper man with ginger hair and mustache, probably late thirties, and very carefully dressed in a fashionable suit and tie. In his hand was an electronic box which appeared superficially similar to mine, but larger and with more controls. He came in, closed the door and held out his hand.
"Actually, that was me. I've been monitoring your case and decided I needed to intervene. Allow me to introduce myself: Henry Gregory Wells, at your service."
I reached up to take his hand, confused, and watched his grip swallow my child's hand. My gaze was naturally drawn to his other hand holding his control box. His had several additional buttons, and two sliding bars as well as a dial control that were entirely different. He saw me staring.
"Oh, allow me." He raised his device, I felt a strong tingle, and watched myself shoot up to full height, my clothes magically restoring as well. I hate to admit it, but my first action was to reach down to check on my cock. A welcome and familiar size rewarded me.
"You must have found your unwanted regression distressing," he commented dryly.
"Who or what are you?" I asked in my restored baritone.
He laughed.
"Oh, excuse me. A fuller introduction is in order. I am a Fixer, one of the upper ranks in the Chronos Continuum. One of my duties is to monitor potential new members and clean up mistakes which prove dangerous or," he glanced down at Susan, who had stopped crying, and now listened in interest as well, "unwise. I've had quite the time cleaning up after your sister." He looked at Courtney. "And I'm not done yet. Still, no reason we shouldn't enjoy this and get something back. Make sure you hold your control while I work, David. I'll explain later."
He aimed at Courtney, and we watched the baby rapidly age to toddler, little girl and then pre-teen. He paused to admire his work so far, then aimed again. As she passed puberty, her nipples and breasts swelled , her hips flared, and her limbs shot out as she neared adult height. Soon, a naked 17 year old sat on the floor, still goo-ing baby talk. However, her eyes fell on baby Susan, and her expression changed. She started to crawl across the floor towards her, her breasts swinging freely.
"I believe her still infant mind has managed to realize her size advantage relative to her tormentor," he commented, watching her approach with appreciation. Susan began to cry again, prompting him to continue. "Although potentially interesting, I had best finish. We still have a lot of ground to cover." He unlatched a recessed cover, exposing a red switch. When he pressed this, Courtney froze.
"I have restored her mind, but have her in a stasis field which renders her, shall we say, highly suggestible." He turned to address her. "Miss Courtney, you will put on your clothes and join your friends. You were late for practice, but otherwise nothing unusual has happened. You will, of course, forget your rejuvenation today."
"Yes," Courtney agreed, standing slowly and giving us a marvelous view of her teen body. She turned, went back to her clothes and dressed, then left, all without another word.
"Wow."
"Yes. Very handy, but very wasteful of energy. We don't like to use it unless absolutely necessary."
"Amnesia?"
"Selective and controllable. A complete memory wipe is prohibitive and sometimes dangerous. Usually, the experience memories can be reshaped or blocked, and most subjects, if they remember anything, will dismiss it as a dream." He smiled. "Still, I dare say Mrs. Cates will hesitate to ever spank her daughter again. Much of that experience was actually good for her, so I left most of it intact." He became serious again. "You know, when Susan managed to take and use your control so easily, I thought you would be disqualified. We can only afford members who show, how shall I put it, a certain level of maturity. And discretion. However, you were so persistent in your attempts to guide your sister, and to regain your box, I decided you were member material after all. Of course, your natural abilities in chronon production help considerably in membership considerations"
"Chronons? And membership - in the Chronos Continuum?"
"The Chronos Continuum," he affirmed. "Sit down, let me tell you about us."
In the next hour, Mr. Wells explained and revealed much. Some highlights:
"It was Heidegger who discovered chronons, the transdimensional particles that allow us to manipulate time. They are generated as an energy byproduct of intense mental activity in a small percentage of the population. Ironically, it is exactly this type of energy which is produced when people of our, ah, enthusiasm fantasize or even better experience the sort of age transformation you've been experimenting with. In other words, chronons are produced when chronons are used. We gather the energy in two ways: disseminating stories of our activities to appreciative readers (we'll give you a special modem to use for your computer), and, for particular adepts such as ourselves, by absorbing energy directly as a feedback through our Heidegger boxes."
"This." I held out my control.
"Exactly. As an initiate, yours is a basic control, but it still channels energy efficiently in both directions. My advanced model works the same way with some additional refinements."
I remembered Courtney, and glanced down at Susan. "So I've seen."
"Yes. It has capabilities including instant and specific age selection," he showed how the central dial could be used to activate a digital display labeled Target Age, "and delayed aging effects which proceed at your choice of speed, without having to maintain the subject in the box's sights. These controls will be available to you as a full member. The mental controls are reserved for advanced members."
"Lots of fun at parties," I cracked.
"As a matter of fact..."
We talked on. The Continuum was a secret organization whose members were dedicated to maintaining its secrecy, given the chaos or possible catastrophe that could result if such powers were widely known or distributed. As he had told me, it was the use of chronons to manipulate age that resulted indirectly in their production.
"Perpetual motion machine," I suggested.
"Not quite," he corrected. "It takes more energy to generate chronons than we recapture from individual users. That's why we use other forms of stimulation."
"Like stories."
"Yes, and like the activities at our monthly meetings which you'll be expected to attend. Members are expected to occasionally contribute videos or photos showing creative use of chronons. With a room full of enthusiasts, such material yields a large amount of energy from a single device's use."
"I can't wait."
Later, I asked about the other capabilities.
"How can you change clothing or control minds?"
"The chronons have remarkable abilities when interacting with matter. Somehow, the clothing becomes congruent with the localized space-time continuum."
"Did you write for Star Trek?" I joked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Sorry. And the suggestibility?"
"The chronons are intimately related to mental activity and can be used to shape thoughts." He frowned. "However, the exchange rate is steep, and the energy waste enormous. There are far better fates for chronons."
Mr. Wells finally got up to leave. He handed me some papers with additional information, meeting times and locations, an instruction booklet for my Heidegger box and his card with a 24 hour number for emergencies.
"I'll be your sponsor until your initiation at this month's meeting." He touched his control to mine and pressed a button. "This will give you a full charge that should last until then. Henceforth, your device will be recharged from the central battery. An extra incentive to not miss meetings. First level members are limited to a one month charge, and their use of their boxes is monitored."
"Monitored?" I asked uncomfortably.
"A necessary precaution. Accidents happen. Carelessness." He indicated Susan. "And some members prove...untrustworthy." He smiled again. "Buck up. Its a small price to pay, and we are open minded to the extreme."
I blushed, remembering incidents of the last 2 days.
"Do you see everything that happens?"
"Of course not. We're not peeping Toms. Usually." A half smile flitted across his face. "We only monitor activity if the Heidegger box indicates an unusual amount of activity or it is activated by an unauthorized individual. When Kate used it, I felt I could let it pass, but when Susan set off the alarm, I monitored more closely and decided to reveal myself early."
Relieved, I promised to study my material and thanked him for the opportunity.
"Not at all. It's people like you who make the Continuum possible. You're already giving back every time you use your Heidegger box." He glanced at Susan. "Shall I erase her memory."
She looked up at me with wide, baby blue eyes, which pleaded and filled with tears. Except for being careless, she really hadn't done things different from me.
"Can she...does she?" I hesitated.
"Can she be a member? No." I looked disappointed. "Not yet. Actually, she also generates chronons that could make her eligible. Its her age and lack of discretion that prevent membership at this point." He paused. "Of course, if you think she can be trusted..."
Despite her lack of muscle control, Susan managed to nod her head quite emphatically, and again fixed me with a pleading gaze.
"...I don't see any reason you can't let her use the device occasionally. With supervision. She can serve an apprenticeship to test her control."
"Thank you," I was relieved. Susan laughed and clapped her hands awkwardly.
"Shall I restore her?"
Baby Susan smiled and drooled.
"No." Her face fell. "I'll take care of it. Slowly."
"Good man. That's the spirit. Keep dreaming and imagining - exactly what we need to keep the group strong. Think I may take a stroll around the school. You know."
"I think I do."
We shook hands again on more equal terms, and he left.
I aged Susan to between one and two years. She managed to climb unsteadily to her feet and moved her mouth experimentally.
"Tanku, D...Daby." By standing, she revealed a small yellow puddle beneath her. "Me wet...no contol."
"We'll take care of that." I quickly cleaned up with paper towels, then morphed her adult clothes into a diaper and toddler dress. After dressing her, I took her pudgy hand in mine.
"Shall we grow?"
We both laughed and headed home.
Chronos Continuum pt. 1 | Chronos Continuum pt. 2
Chronos Continuum pt. 3 | Chronos Continuum pt. 4
Contact the author at Nomdreserv@phuze.com
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