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Decisions, decisions... pt 1
by Jennifer Loraine
Contact the author at jennifer@phuze.com
Co-written with an anonymous author by Jennifer Loraine
"Now that the discovery is out," said the exceedingly wealthy woman in the fashionable black, raw-silk suit, "I can talk about what happened. The whole world is aware of my husband's brilliant work and he's recognized as being one of the most intelligent men on the planet. You know that both as a medical doctor and a nuclear physicist, Steve is world renowned."
Her baby boy in the lay languidly in the baby seat on the kitchen table next to her and dreamily blew bubbles of baby spit, ignoring the adult conversation that was taking place in front of him. The mother said to her friend, "No one can fault us for what we did." She continued to her friend, trusting that the family secret would be kept safe, "We did everything that could be done. It was an accident. I tried my best, but my efforts were doomed from the start."
"I'd told you before that I took a lover during the period when Steve was engaged in his greatest discovery, but I never told you what happened to him. If you remember, I told you that his name was Paul," the middle-aged woman said, heaving a soulful sigh and began the story to her wealthy friend who had skeletons of her own to hide from the public at large.
"Life is full of decisions," Paul used to say, quoted the wealthy woman, "You can stay with that loser if you want, but you have to make up your mind. I'm not going to wait around forever."
"My husband, Steve, is many things, but a loser isn't one of them as Paul found out," the woman said with more than a hint of pride in her voice.
"I love Steve dearly, but he'd been neglecting me for years. Before it happened, Steve had been on the "edge of a major scientific discovery" for three years. For all of that time I waited patiently on what Steve spoke of as "the greatest scientific breakthrough in the history of mankind," she said dolefully as she looked at the face of her baby boy.
She smiled courageously and began the story in earnest, "It was a top secret, privately funded project. Steve toiled secretly with three assistants, totally unhindered by financial restraints. He spent nearly all of his time in his laboratory. Most nights he didn't even come home, choosing to sleep on the couch in his office instead. It's true that even at that time he was a great provider, but I was desperately lonely and very depressed.
I met Paul Kristy a few months before the announcement of my husband's discovery while I was in the waiting room of my doctor's office. I noticed him right away; he was tall and athletic with straight, jet black hair held neatly in a short pony tail. He was making his rounds as a pharmaceutical detail man and we shared an elevator on the way out. I was immediately attracted to him and we began to talk on the elevator trip down. By the time the elevator reached the first floor, we had a date in the bar of the hotel across the street to talk. You know how these things are. I had no intention of cuckolding my husband, but I was lonely and there this handsome man was. After a drink in the bar, I realized how lonely I was and how handsome he was. Then things kind of got out of control. We were sharing a bed at the Hyatt an hour later.
The sex was absolutely incredible. He took me to heights that I've never been to before. He caressed my breasts, finally sucking on my nipples like a man possessed. Then he kissed me...down there...gentle soft, kisses at first, that started on the inside of my thighs. Steve never did that! When he touched me with his tongue, I thought I'd go crazy.
Paul was soooo big, I mean, his penis was huge, and he wasn't circumcised. I'd never been with anyone but my husband, and I was amazed at his size and the way it looked. When he entered me for the first time, gently, slowly, pushing deeper and deeper, I felt whole and complete for the first time.
I'd never cheated on Steve before, but I was just so lonely that I just couldn't help myself. Paul left me feeling fulfilled and appreciated. That chance encounter turned into weekly meetings that I looked forward to with all my heart and soul. I could tell that it was important to Paul too. Initially our relationship was one of lust and passion, but as the weeks went by, we fell deeply in love. One afternoon a week was not enough, I wanted him to be near me always.
It wasn't long before Paul started pressuring me to divorce Steve. He said that I needed to make a decision right away, so we could begin our lives together. Paul wanted children and so did I. At thirty-eight years old, my biological clock was ticking too loudly to ignore.
Steve had never wanted anything to do with children. To him, kids were a distraction, and he hated anything that prevented him from concentrating on his work. He'd expressed his opinion about having a brood of brats interfering with his work in the bluntest terms possible many times. I a lways suspected that he felt that way because he couldn't be a father. Don't let this get out to the women at the club, but Steve was rendered completely sterile by a high fever he had had as a child. I've often wondered if that wasn't what made him go into medical research. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to find a way to heal himself. Whatever his reasons, the damage caused by his boyhood illness was irreversible. He can never father a child of his own.
Paul was pushing me to make a choice. I was afraid that if I didn't take action, I'd loose him forever. I couldn't bear the thought of Paul leaving me and the idea of him being with another woman was intolerable."
"I can still hear his voice now," she said as she related the dialog that went on between her and her lover to her friend from the country club;
"'Just get your stuff and leave. It's really that simple,' Paul told me repeatedly," the woman told her friend.
"It's not that simple. I can't just walk out on him...," I'd always reply."
"'Make a decision. It's him or me!', he'd demand of me," she continued.
"Eventually he wore me down," she said to her avidly listening friend, "I knew that Paul would move on and our weekly love trysts would end if I didn't make my choice soon. One night, after a few glasses of wine after dinner, I told Steve that I wanted a divorce. I told him I wanted Paul, blurting out that I hoped that Paul would give me a baby."
"For the first time in our marriage, Steve struck me, hard, across my face, with the back of his hand," the woman in the silk suit confided to her best friend, remembering the events that changed their lives forever.
Her face darkened in remembered anger as she related what her husband had screamed that night; "You stupid cow! You just don't understand!"
She heaved another sigh and admitted, "He was right, I didn't understand. I had no idea what he was doing at the lab. All I knew was that Steve's work had taken him from me and that I felt alone and abandoned. I had no idea of the changes in our lives that his work would bring. I think that Steve was as shocked as I was that he had backhanded me."
She said Steve had shaken his head and gazed in disbelief at his the angry red patch on the back of his hand after his assault. "He was astounded that he'd actually hit me," she told the woman in the apricot suit sitting beside her.
The silk garbed woman shook her head and began to relate the tale verbatim as she remembered it. She told the story to her friend as if she was there, experiencing every moment of the strange tale of the lover who had disappeared. As the woman related the story, her friend was drawn into the events that unfolded as she was experiencing them for herself. Without realizing it, the eyes of her friend clouded over as the room changed transformed itself into a vision of the past as she visualized the events that the woman in black related to her in utmost secret. Even in her semi-hypnotic state, she realized that it was a tale that could never be retold, even to her husband or her closest female friends. This tale could never be shared with another. The woman in black was too wealthy and had too many protectors to betray her trust.
Her friend knew that Steve no longer dallied with research, spending his time instead with his financial advisors consolidating the fantastic fortune that he had accrued as a consequence of his discovery. His financial angels had discovered to their dismay that Steve was much smarter than they had originally thought. Steve had demanded a number of innocent clauses be inserted into the contract before he would sign. Much to the investor's chagrin, they discovered later that the innocuous phrases that the sly scientist had insisted be included before he entered into the agreement had real legal meanings. After his discovery had begun making money, the investors consulted with their lawyers and realized that they'd been had. His meaningless clauses made a shambles of their plans for power. At some point, money is no longer a means to survive but is only an expression of raw power. As a direct result of the oddly worded clauses that had been incorporated into the contract at Steve's direction, the plans of his "angels" had gone completely awry. Nonetheless, Steve's "angels" had become exceedingly rich because of their investment in the quiet scientist's project. Unfortunately for their dreams of ultimate fiscal power, Steve became richer than them by several orders of magnitude. He could buy and sell them out of petty cash.
The investor's relatively paltry total investment of three million dollars was paid back with a fantastic return that gave each of them thirty million dollars. It was unfortunate for their schemes of power that they had inadvertently let Steve totally own the final results of his research. While it didn't make a wit of difference to the style of living they were able to support themselves in after the research paid off, his ownership of the formula made him one of the world's most wealthy men instead of them. It was projected by stock market analysts that in ten years, if Steve managed his money wisely, he'd be the wealthiest man in the world. The black costumed woman and her husband had reached a pinnacle of wealth and had become two of the most powerful people alive. Her friend sitting next to her at the table was a bit surprised that she didn't hire a immigrant wet nurse to look after her baby, but then, the woman in silk was noveau riche and couldn't be expected to know better. Perhaps she was afraid of AIDS, her friend mused to herself as she listened to the narrative of how her friend lost her paramour.
The woman in black began to relate the next part of the tale to her friend as it happened without further editorial remarks, starting the story where she left off; "How can I get through to you that what I'm working on will change everything?", Steve said in utter exasperation, "Nothing is going to be the same!" With that statement, Steve turned away, stalking furiously out to his car before driving back to his lab.
"His attack should have served to reinforce my love for Paul," the woman said, "but Steve's sudden display of emotion was more feedback than I'd gotten from him for years. Did he care for me more than I thought? Strangely, I began questioning myself whether leaving him was the right decision.
We'd had fifteen years together, and most of those years were happy. I enjoyed being married to Steve. His brilliance was widely known and I was sure that someday he'd make a scientific contribution that would make him wealthy as well as famous. At that time, however, he'd grown slovenly and uncaring about his appearance. He spent nearly all of his time in the lab. He'd go for days without showering and his fast-food, high-fat diet of burgers, fries and pizzas that he ate while working had caused him to gain thirty pounds in six months.
"I met Paul at the Hyatt about a week Steve hit me," the woman said, "I never saw him as angry as when he touched the yellow and green streaked bruise beneath my left eye.
The woman told her friend that Paul had asked incredulously, "He hit you?"
"Yes, but he didn't mean to," I answered Paul, "He's under a lot of pressure."
"Fuck him! Everybody's under pressure!", Paul had shouted in anger, "I'm going to straighten this thing out once and for all!" He looked down, thinking for a moment...then said softly in a determined tone, "I'm sorry, I know this must be hard for you. Just stay here. When I get back, we're going back to your place and get your things." With a grim expression on his face, he turned and left the hotel suite.
I sat in the hotel room and anxiously waited for word of the explosion that had become inevitable. The decision had been taken out of my hands. Willy-nilly, my life was about to change drastically. When the phone rang an hour later, I was shocked to hear my husband's voice coming from the receiver of the hotel room instead of Paul's. "How had Steve known where I was?", I thought to myself in panic. "Had Steve killed him?", I wondered.
"I've just sent everyone home from the lab for the afternoon. Paul's here alone with me. He told me where you were so I could call you. Come over and the three of us will work this thing out," Steve said without further elaboration.
"I was confused by my husband's calm demeanor on the phone as I got in my car and made the short trip to his lab," the black garbed woman related to her friend.
"I remember how I felt a week later," the woman said, "I was sitting in the family room just thinking about what had happened...,"
She paused for a few seconds before continuing to relate the story with a distant look in her eyes, as if she was reliving that moment that had happened over a year before, "The confrontation at the lab with Steve had happened the week before. As I glanced through the bedroom door at Paul, I could see that he was lying in the middle of the double bed, fast asleep. His bottom was in the air as he slumbered on his stomach with his head turned to one side. As always, his angel-fine hair was pulled back in the jet-black trademark ponytail he wore on the fateful day he went to have a showdown with my husband. Although he was wearing a T-shirt and his behind was completely covered by white cotton fabric, I could see the back of his chubby pink thighs. I can almost hear him now, sucking on the knuckles of his fist as he slept. I remember him looking so sweet and adorable as he lay there on the bed, I felt like I could have eaten him up!"
As the woman related her memory of the events that had taken place, she seemed to enter a trance again, moving mentally back in time until she was describing events as they occurred, "The bedroom is warm so I saw no need to cover him with a blanket as he sleeps between the two pillows I placed on either side of him when I put him down for his nap. I feel comfortable enough leaving him alone in our bedroom. The pillows will keep him from squirming his way off the side of the bed and the cloth diaper he's wearing will only let the tinniest bit of pee escape onto the terrycloth towel I spread on the bed before I put the pillows at his side for safety's sake. The towel will also keep him from drooling on the bed's duvet while he sleeps. He's too small and weak to crawl and he can't even turn over on his own. But even at his early age, he can still squirm around and you can't be too safe with an infant that young.
Her eyes cleared a bit as the woman came back to the present for a moment, switching back and forth in time between the past and present as she said, "Steve was right about one thing,"
Her eyes grew bright and she said with full awareness before she dropped back into her reverie. "Steve seems to be right about EVERYTHING!', I thought to myself after Paul's change and almost every day since.
Her eyes dimmed again as she remembered how she felt and her consciousness moved back into the past, "Paul is a very easy baby to take care of. He almost never cries. He always lets me know when he needs changed and when he's too cold or warm.
It will take him a while to adjust, of course. I try to imagine what it must have been like for Paul last week when his world suddenly changed. One moment he was a thirty-five year old man, with an intense career and a libido to match, and a few minutes later he found himself trapped in a tiny, helpless, sixteen-pound body, unable to do anything but wiggle and scream incoherently. It must have been awful. But as I said before, he's adjusting.
I sigh to myself when I think about how much I'll miss having sex with Paul; his technique was incredible! It's never that way with Steve when we make love, although lately things have been looking up. I think that Steve is turned on by the fact that Paul is laying in his little bassinet on the floor next to my side of the bed and listening to my moans of pleasure while we make love, because lately Steve's been trying a lot harder to be a better lover. I appreciate his efforts to improve his technique, but I think that I'll just have to accept the fact that Steve will never be able to sexually please me the way that Paul did. I'm not complaining, you understand. The explosion I expected never happened and everything is working itself out in a way that I couldn't have imagined a week ago. I'm content with the outcome, if not completely satisfied.
After I arrived at Steve's office, he sat me in the chair before his desk and talked to me for a few minutes before he took me to see Paul. He explained that Paul had stormed into his office and threatened to have him put in jail for physically assaulting me. Paul had told him that I was at the Hyatt Regency awaiting his phone call to tell me that Steve had agreed to a quiet separation followed immediately by a no fault divorce. He told Steve that if he contested the divorce, that he would see that he would be conferring with his lawyers in the jail's visiting area rather than his office. Steve informed me that he had refused to divorce me in no uncertain terms to Paul, causing the argument to become heated.
At that point, Paul jumped up from his chair and launched himself over the desk to attack him. Steve gave me a description of the battle, saying, "When Paul attacked me, we struggled for a few minutes and he got his hands around my throat. When I started to choke, I grabbed the nearest thing at hand; a filled syringe of the latest version of my formula that I had prepared to give one of the chimps. I stabbed him in the abdomen with the needle to try and make him release my neck so I could breathe. He took one hand off of my throat and tried to take the syringe away from me while he continued to choke me. Somehow in the struggle, Paul got injected with a full dose of the formula I've been working on for the past two years. He began changing before my eyes. I'm sorry, Darling. It was an accident. I was only trying to protect myself."
I looked into my soul and decided that whatever had happened it probably wasn't Steve's fault. He hadn't known about my affair and had been surprised by a madman who had come into his lab and declared himself his wife's lover. The shock of Steve's discovery of my peccadillo must have been tremendous. Then Paul had threatened him and demanded that we divorce. No wonder he had refused! Once Paul offer had been rejected, Steve had found himself being physically assaulted with no warning. I knew that Paul had no right to do what he did. Steve had only defended himself with what he had at hand. Steve went on to tell me in a quiet voice that within a few minutes, Paul had been rendered harmless by his experimental formula. Steve smiled sympathetically as he told me that Paul's last words had been a cry for me to help him. Steve told me that he had stood over Paul's still shrinking body and had demanded to know what room I was in at the hotel so he could call me so I wouldn't worry. In a blind panic at his transformation, Paul told him, demanding that Steve call me to come and help him.
I was terrified for Paul's welfare when I heard that Steve had somehow turned the tables on Paul and had managed to overcome him. I had no idea what Steve meant when he talked about Paul shrinking. I demanded to see Paul so I could see what Steve had done to him. With his damnable Buddha-like smile of unperturbable knowledge, Steve ushered me over to the door of the examining room that adjoined his office and stood back after turning the knob and swinging the door wide open for me to have a look for myself. I walked through the doorway and stared blankly at the scene in front of me for a few minutes before Paul's fate sunk in and made sense. It was really spooky seeing Paul just after Steve had subjected him to the effects of his secret "breakthrough" formula that he had made so many cryptic references to over the past few months.
A naked newborn baby boy lay on his back on the disposable white paper sheet covering the black plastic pad of exam table in front of me. From where I stood, I could see that he had been secured to the table by single three-inch wide canvas restraining strap across his tiny waist. His little legs kicked and his thin arms flailed helplessly in the air as he puled and wailed in utter terror. Paul's head turned toward me as I drew closer. When our eyes met, his eyes locked onto mine and he stopped screaming and thrashing to lay perfectly still.
I stared at the tiny pink creature in disbelief. I felt like I was looking at the highest expression of the movie-making art of special effects; it looked like someone had miniaturized and de-aged Paul's head before transplanting it onto the body of a newborn. I could still recognize his facial features even though the context of their placement was almost beyond belief; his eyes had remained the same size while the rest of his head had shrunk to half its previous size. His chin had almost disappeared while his nose had lost all definition and he had no virtually eyebrows at all. Everything about his face had changed, but I could still discern the obvious traces of the face of my lover, Paul Kristy. He looked like he couldn't be more than ten-weeks-old. I walked up to the table, and looked down on his sadly diminished body. The desperate expression on Paul's beardless face as he looked up at me was one that I'll never forget. Even the color of his eyes had changed; only an hour before they were an extremely dark brown color, but when I looked into his eyes, I beheld irises that were the purest blue-in-blue I have ever seen. When he opened his mouth to try to talk to me, I saw that the gums of his mouth were completely toothless.
Although nothing came out of his mouth but a consonantless babble of vowel sounds, I could tell from the imploring look on his face that he was pleading for me to help him. He wanted me to save him from the fate imposed on him by Steve, who had silently slipped through the doorway and was standing quietly behind me, with a faint half-smile of triumph as he watched our reunion from a distance.
I had to touch him, to convince myself that it wasn't a dream and that it was really happening to me. I placed my hand on his chest, stretching my fingers across his trembling torso, feeling the incredible softness of his fragile-looking baby skin. He was so tiny! I hesitantly reached out with my left hand and grasped both heels of his precious little feet and held his callous-free, infant-sized heels effortlessly in my palm. I put his feet down carefully and spread his legs with my hands so I could look at his hairless, baby-smooth crotch. With my thumb and forefinger, I tenderly fondled the half-inch long baby wee-wee that my husband had transformed from the manly cock which my lover had used to gratify me so completely during our weekly trysts. As I handled his little penis and reverently touched the small empty sac that had once held testicles the size of large AAA eggs, I was instantly rewarded with a miniscule involuntary erection of an infant.
Moving my hand up to his face, I took my thumb and gently stroked the delicately rounded underside of the jaw that had jutted out in grim determination as Paul had left the hotel room to do battle with Steve over my body and affections. An hour before, his chin had been firm and strong, now all that remained was the weak receding chin of early infancy. I sighed as I remembered the touch of his full lips on mine as I ran the tip of my index finger over his tiny, rosebud mouth. As I stroked the side of his cheek affectionately, I saw his cheeks begin to pull in as his mouth began to suckle instinctively. Without thought, I put my forefinger in his mouth and he began to instinctively suck on the last joint of my finger. I withdrew my finger quickly, embarrassed at the response that I had gotten from my former lover in front of my husband. Tearing my gaze away from his face, I sought to examine other areas of his diminutive body.
I looked down at his hands, recalling how his fingers would dance joyfully over my skin before coming to rest on my breasts and begin the slow strokes that had driven me mad with passion. I marveled at the perfection of his tiny fingers for a moment, then as an experiment, I put my pinkie in his tiny palm and watched as his petite, translucent fingers tightened reflexively around it. I remember thinking at the time that I must have seemed huge to him; his fist was so tiny, that he could barely grasp the smallest finger on my hand. By comparison to him, I was a giantess.
It was all so amazing; his innocent infantine beauty was breathtaking. When Paul saw me smile in involuntarily appreciation of his adorable little body, his tiny face screwed itself up into a brow-wrinkled frown and he began sobbing once more. As his sobs of helplessness and mortification became the wails of an abandoned soul in torment, his tiny body began to shake. Instinctively, I backed up in fear of the unknown as his shaking became convulsive and his face turned bright red. He drummed his feet noisily against the paper covering of the exam table's pad as he piteously screamed his heart out. Suddenly, he commenced to pee, causing a little arch of urine to erupt upwards from his still semi-erect penis. His pee splashed against his thin legs and ran down in thin pale-yellow streams across the white paper to pool under his bottom. My heart went out to the helpless little person before me.
All at once, the reality of Paul's transformation had been brought home to me. It wasn't only his appearance that had changed, but his entire body had been rejuvenated somehow into infancy. Not only had his body been transformed into the size and appearance of an infant, but poor little Paul had lost his potty-training into the bargain! His wails of discomfort grew louder as the warm yellow puddle around his bottom became larger. I wanted to pick him up and cuddle him to me so I could smother his humiliated sobs in the comfort of my bosom. Never before in my life had anyone made me feel so needed.
I looked around at Steve and said, "Isn't there anything you can do for him? Please, Steve! I know how you must feel, but you can't just leave him there wallowing in pee! He can't hurt anyone now, so there's no sense in making him suffer. Look at the poor thing! Just because he was once my lover is no reason to torment a helpless infant. Don't you think that turning him into a baby is revenge enough? For the love of God, Steve, help me! Don't you have a towel or something that I can use to dry him off?"
Steve pursed his lips seriously and said, "I believe I have just the thing for him." Then he went over to the paper towel dispenser next to the examination room's sink and took out a handful of brown paper towels. "Here," he said as he handed me the towels, "The restraining strap fastens at the side of the table. You can use these to mop up the mess and wipe his behind, then you can pull down some fresh paper on the exam table for him to lay on. There's a roll of paper underneath the table at the top, just pull the end of the paper down at the bottom of the table and tear off the soiled paper at the bar on the bottom of the table. Put the used paper towels and wet paper cover from the exam table in the metal trash can over there."
I took the towels from his hand and said in disgust at Steve's apparent lack of humanity, "That's it? That's all you're going to do for him?"
Steve's serious look became a slight smile as he said, "No, that's not all I'm going to do for him. While I waited for you to arrive I made some plans for the three of us. As soon as you get him cleaned up, I'll discuss them with you. In the meantime, I need to find something for him to wear. It will take me a few minutes because I don't know where my lab assistant put the supplies we keep for the chimps we use in our experiments. She usually handles this sort of thing for me. I just examine the chimps to see how the experiments are progressing."
"Chimps?", I asked, "You mean chimpanzees? What kind of supplies would you have for an animal that would be of any use to a baby? I think you're being mean!"
"You'll see," he said with a knowing smile as he started going through the stainless steel cabinets that covered the walls of the exam room.
He found what he was looking for just as I finished tossing the ball of yellow stained white paper in the metal trash bin after the soggy towels. Then Steve came over to me with a small white plastic coated packet in his hand and handed it to me. "What's this? Something you use on your animals? Is this more of your cruelty? Haven't you had enough vengeance?", I demanded of what I thought to be a compassionless husband.
He shook his head sadly and said quietly, "Open it up. You'll know what it is the minute you see it unfolded."
I grimly unfolded the packet, expecting the worst. I was surprised when the object turned out to be a disposable baby diaper. My expression softened as I looked at Steve and asked in confusion, "You use baby diapers with animals?"
"Chimps, Darling," he corrected gently. Then he explained, "Chimps can't be housebroken and have the same general anatomy as humans so we use regular diapers. We have them in all sizes for chimps of different ages. I believe that one will fit Paul perfectly. Don't worry, it hasn't been contaminated by contact with the chimps." He went over to the cabinet that he had gotten the diaper from and swung the stainless steel door open wide, then said, "See? It came right out of an unopened package that I broached just for Paul. Believe me, he'll be more comfortable once he's in a diaper."
I looked up at the package of diapers on the metal shelf and saw a picture of a baby boy on the side of a package labeled "Pampers". Humbled by my false accusations of Steve, I said, "Thank you, Honey. I'm sorry about what I said before. I didn't realize what you had in mind. I'm sure you're right, he'll be more comfortable once I get him diapered. Let me get him diapered before he makes another mess on your exam table."
While I worked, Steve looked thoughtful before taking the freshly opened package of diapers down from the shelve and closing the cabinet door quietly. Little Paul was a handful to diaper though. Although he couldn't turn himself over, he could kick and squirm with the best of them. It was obvious to me that he knew what I was trying to do and objected mightily to the idea of being diapered. His weak little body couldn't fight me for long though and within minutes, I had his little bottom safely ensconced in a diaper. Paul wailed in mortification at his reduction in status to an infant. I picked him up and held him close to my breasts, rocking him back and forth by twisting my torso gently like mothers do to quiet small babies. As I held him, I realized just how small he had gotten. I held his entire bottom in one hand while I supported his head and held it close to my bosom to muffle his cries. Steve smiled and nodded, then held out his free hand to indicate that we should adjourn to his office to talk. I noticed as we went into Steve's office that he held the package of disposable diapers with his other hand and smiled at his thoughtfulness. Apparently, Steve intended to give me the package of diapers for Paul's use.
Steve sat in his chair behind his desk and indicated that I should sit in the comfortable visitor's chair that was positioned in front of the desk. Poor little Paul's cries had quieted to occasional broken sobs that lost themselves in the protection of my bosom. Steve smiled gently and began, "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Darling, and I know that this is partially of my making. I've been so wrapped up in my work that I haven't been a very good husband lately. The formula is very fast acting as you can see for yourself. A few minutes after he attacked me, he became like you see him now. I'm sorry it happened, Darling. It wasn't my intent to make him one of my test subjects. The formula has never been tried on a human before. Now that it has, we have to talk about the consequences to Paul as well as ourselves.
To begin with, this is still an experimental version of my formula and has problems. Or at least the tests with the chimps have shown that it's not perfected. The chimps that we've dosed the formula with regress just as he has, but their aging processes are radically slowed down. During the first stage, the chimps don't age at all for about six months. Then in the second six months, they enter the second stage and begin to age at approximately a quarter of the normal rate. After the first year, the effects of the formula wear off and they begin to age at a steady rate of one half the normal rate. I don't know of any way to reverse the formula's effects. In other words, Darling, Paul is going to be a baby for a long time. I'd guess from the dosage and his apparent age when he walked in that he's about eight-weeks-old. Darling, I need to tell you what's in store for him so that you can make an informed decision. He will stay at his present age for at least six months, then he'll start to age at a quarter of the normal rate. That is, in a year he'll be about four and one half months old and begin to age at half the normal rate. Until that time, he will have physiological development of an infant with all the reflexes that are normal for his physiological age.
His nutrition needs will be similar but because he won't be growing as fast, he won't need as much food as a normal infant. His body is too young to eat solid food, so at the very least, he'll have to be fed formula until it's time to wean him. He will wet and mess his diapers just as a newborn would so he may need as many as twenty diaper changes a day with eight to ten being average for most infants. This will only be slightly modified by the fact that he'll be ingesting less formula than a normal infant. Being able to roll over by himself will take him at little over two years. In thirty months or so, he should be able to crawl on his belly and say ma-ma. After about four years, his spoken vocabulary will be about ten words and he should meet the normal development criteria for a twelve-month-old baby.
Given what I've said, the earliest his body will be ready for toilet-training will be in about six years. Frankly, after all that time I have grave doubts that he'll ever get out of diapers. By the time his body is ready for the first stages of bowel training, he'll have spent such a long period with no control that I don't think he'll psychologically be able to master either bladder or bowel control again. Also, the experiment on the chimps showed an unexpected side effect; his genitalia will remain infantile. He'll never go through puberty and develop into a functional man. His genitalia will stop developing at somewhere around the anatomical stage of a two-year-old and never get any larger. In other words, his penis and testicles will stop growing when he reaches the size of a two-year-old and never get any bigger. He'll never grow a beard and he'll retain the many of the childish features of preadolescence like having a high voice. He'll never have sex with a woman again. Sexually speaking, he'll be a baby forever.
On the bright side, he remains unchanged cognitively. He understands everything you say and retains all of his memories. At least, that is for now, Darling. Since I've never tested the formula out on a human, I'm only guessing. I believe that there is a real danger that his mind will regress under the stress and he'll lose everything. Then he'd be a true infant. In other words, he needs to have his mind stimulated or he'll begin to regress psychologically into an infant. This has nothing to do with the formula, but it's a consequence of being in an infant's body. Darling, we have a responsibility to him. If he isn't cared for properly, he'll slip into babyhood. Someone has to care for him night and day to insure that he doesn't slip into infancy. I truly hate to put the responsibility on you, but there isn't anyone else. You are the woman he loves and who he sacrificed his manhood and maturity for. There's no one else who will look after him properly but you. Since you loved him as a man, you are the natural candidate to be his mother. Unless you object, I don't see any other reasonable course of action. You will have to become his de facto mother and see that he's mentally stimulated to keep his mind intact. Otherwise, his mind will regress into early infancy. Once that happens, I doubt if he'll ever recover his faculties again no matter how old he gets. If he's put into a nursing home, his mind will regress within a month at most.
I know that you've always wanted a baby of your own and I think that this is the opportunity for you to have the baby you've always dreamt of. In a strange way, he'll make a perfect baby. Because his adult mind is intact, he'll be able to tell you if he's wet, cold or hungry. Not with actual words, of course, but his cries won't be the fussing of a normal infant. They will be a real form of communication. Because he's so small and will remain so for at least a year, he'll be easy to care for. He's very light and he'll be easy to carry around the house. I weighed him on the exam
continued in Decisions, decisions... pt 2
Contact the author at jennifer@phuze.com
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