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Two Cookies
by Undrdog
Contact the author at undrdog@phuze.com
Other Stories by Undrdog
"I'm meeting some new friends and I thought you'd like to come with," Susan said. "They have an interesting new concept for nursery and day care, so I know you'll be interested. Want to come?" Susan and Mark had been lovers and best friends for many years, sharing many of each other's deepest secrets. Susan knew that Mark wouldn't miss a chance to see something new related to toddlers and babies. "Maybe you'll learn a new game," she giggled. Mark only blushed slightly and nodded that he'd be glad to come along. They went in Susan's car, because she knew where the nursery was.
On the way, Susan pulled the car into the parking lot for The Baby store. "There's going to be a little boy there who needs some things. I told them I'd pick up some stuff for him, OK?" As the doors opened and they walked into the store, Mark was tantalized by the scent of baby lotion and by all there was to see. There were isles and isles of baby stuff. Mark stopped and took it all in, wanting to browse forever through the store. Susan firmly took Mark by the hand and led him to the clothes racks. He was almost spellbound by the rows and rows of baby clothes and couldn't help but start looking through them. "Help me pick something for a cute two year old boy with sandy colored hair," Susan said, looking through the isles. He followed her to the racks for two year olds. Mark took his time browsing though little sets of matching pants and shirts. Every time he found one he thought was cute, he'd find something else. Some had cute insignias, one had a Mickey Mouse pattern, they were all so wonderfully infantile! Susan quickly picked out three sets, a little pair of blue jeans with an elastic waist and a baseball patterned shirt, a pair of overalls with a ducky sewn onto the top pocket, and a set with a pair of shorts. "You're a guy, pick one you'd like," she said. Mark looked over the clothes and decided on the overalls. They were dark red, made of a lightweight corduroy weave, with snaps on the behind for easy changing. They came with a white T-shirt and matching socks. "These are cute," he suggested. "Fine," she said," Now we need diapers and some other stuff." The baby lotion scent was much stronger in the diaper isle and Mark felt himself getting very excited. His mind wandered to thoughts of being a baby and getting to use the baby stuff he saw all around him. Susan picked up a large package of extra-absorbent diapers and they headed to the checkout lanes. On the way, Susan picked out a bottle, nipples for a two year old, and a tippy cup. "We can get the milk on the way home," she said, but Mark was so lost in his thoughts that he wasn't even paying attention.
It was only a short drive to the nursery. Actually, it was a house in a nice residential neighborhood. They entered through a back door, which opened into a garage that had been converted to a nursery. It was a typical nursery, mothers were milling around chatting, while their toddlers colored or watched tv or played on the bright plastic play set. A wide, multipurpose counter ran along three of the walls, and there was a sink in the middle the counter on each wall. The counter was used for everything from changing to towel storage. Diapers were piled up at one end, and there was a box of finger-paints and other crafts toys on another part of the counter. The center counter was set up for snacks, with a serving plate of large chocolate cookies, milk, a pitcher of orange juice, cups and so forth.
As they entered the nursery, a friendly looking woman in her late 30s came over. Susan introduced them, "Mark, this is my friend Wanda, she set this place up." They shook hands. Susan and Wanda began chatting. Mark was more interested in looking around and didn't pay attention to the conversation.
Mark saw that the mothers there were all about Susan's age, mid to late thirties. The children were mostly toddlers, but there were a few babies in cribs. He saw one little girl, but the other children were all little boys. Apparently, they had just finished their snacks. There were still some cookies left on the cookie plate, and there was still some juice and milk in the pitchers. Paper napkins and cookie crumbs were scattered over the counter.
"Wanda said you could have some snacks, if you'd like, Mark." Susan touched his shoulder to get his attention. "I'm sorry," Mark replied, "I guess I wasn't listening. Thanks."
Wanda said to Susan, "That's so typical! Isn't it cute!"
"Mark," Wanda said, as if she was talking to a toddler, "The rule is that everybody gets one cookie, OK?."
"No, two would be better," Susan interjected.
"Two, are you sure?" Wanda asked, looking seriously at Susan.
"Oh yes. Definitely two."
Mark wondered what that exchange was all about. Susan went to get the snacks. Mark decided that Susan had told Wanda that he liked baby stuff, so they were just playing with him.
Susan came back with a plastic cup of milk and two cookies for Mark, and some juice and cookies for herself. Susan's cookies looked like regular store bought cookies, but Mark's looked homemade. "Why don't you have one of these, Susan?" he asked, "they look homemade."
Susan looked at Wanda uncomfortably, but Wanda said smoothly, "The chocolate ones are special, for our special guests. Like you, Mark. After your snack, you can sit down and color if you want."
Mark realized that Susan had arranged with Wanda to let him play in the nursery. Mark blushed and busied himself with eating a cookie.
Embarrassed, Mark felt the blood rushing to his head. He was feeling a little flush, and a little bit dizzy, the room seemed to be moving around him. Mark drank some of the cold milk and felt better. He kept his head down, looking at his feet, so Susan and Wanda wouldn't see him blush. Wanda took him by the hand to a nearby table and helped him sit down. Mark was still slightly dizzy, so he didn't notice that his hand was smaller in Wanda's hand or that she was now much taller than he was. All Mark noticed was that he was sitting comfortably in a plastic chair and that Wanda had placed his second cookie on a napkin in front of him. Mark felt a little disoriented and so he didn't hear Susan and Wanda talking behind him.
"Watch him carefully, Susan," said Wanda, "once he eats the second cookie, that chair will become way too big for him. The second cookie takes a little while longer to work, though."
"What's going to happen?", Susan asked.
"Two cookies will get him down to about one and a half to two years old. It will be very disorienting for him, at first. After a few hours, he'll get used to it. Then, he'll still have the mind of an adult, but his body will only respond like a toddler's. I understand that it's very distracting, so even though he may think like the Mark you know, he'll end up acting more like, well, what you see."
What Susan saw was a five or six year old Mark, who was so disoriented that he didn't even realize that his adult size clothes were very loose. "Susan, maybe you'd better sit down with him," Wanda suggested.
Susan sat in a chair next to little Mark, and easily lifted him into her lap. Mark, disoriented, felt himself being lifted out of his chair, and then was greatly comforted as he felt himself being placed securely in Susan's lap. Her left arm held him securely and she stroked his sandy hair with her other hand. Wanda handed Susan the second cookie, which she fed to little Mark. Mark ate the cookie, unaware that anything unusual had taken place. All he knew was that he was safe in Susan's lap, and that he was eating a delicious cookie. Mark felt dizzy again and he was very glad to be safe in Susan's lap. Susan and Wanda watched as Mark magically became even younger. After about fifteen minutes, Susan was cuddling a 2 year old.
During the transformation, Mark felt very uncomfortable. It took him a few minutes, but then he realized what was bothering him. He had to pee. He looked around to see where the bathroom was, but just as he looked around and oriented himself, Susan lifted him up, saying, "Awwww... Look! Markie's wet himself. Good thing we brought a change of clothes, isn't it!" Mark was so disoriented, he hadn't realized he had wet, but Susan lifted him up, out of his adult pants and onto the changing table, he felt cold all over where his warm, wet underwear had been. Wanda helped Susan clean and change Mark, dressing him in the disposable diapers they had purchased, and the little red overalls. "You'll get the hang of it, Susan, just make sure the tapes are snug!" The two women giggled like girls who had just gotten a new play toy. "Why don't you put Mark down to color, and we'll talk more about what you can expect from this." Susan lifted little Mark to her chest, patted his bottom as she took him over to a play pen. Wanda placed a coloring book and a bright green plastic bucket of crayons beside Mark.
Susan and Wanda talked while Mark tried to make heads or tails of his situation. Wanda was talking, but he was still too disoriented to understand much of what was being said. Better and easier to concentrate on the bright crayons in front of him.
"Once the initial disorientation wears off," Wanda was saying, "you can be reasonably sure that he will be better able to understand what you say, and his situation. Some little boys at that age are ready to start potty training, but some prefer not to. You'll just have to judge where Mark is. However, like I said before, he'll have the body, and therefore the responses, of a toddler. For example, he'll have an adult's intellect, but, because of the young state of his brain, he won't be able to stay focused on it for any longer than a two year old could. Emotions are also based on the development of the brain, so, you can only expect him to react as a two year old would. If you decide later that you'd like him to be a little younger, just bring him back for another cookie.. Or, if you'd prefer a little boy who's a little older," she laughed, "just wait until he grows into it!"
Mark was feeling a little less disoriented by now. He was no longer dizzy, and he stopped feeling so flush. He focused on the task before him. Crayons. Coloring Book. It was coloring time. Mark decided that he'd do a great job shading in the elephant, so that it looked almost three dimensional. He was glad that he was finally able to think straight. He was comfortable and he felt like coloring (he had always liked to draw.) So, he didn't notice anything unusual until he picked up a crayon. It struck him odd that he'd be using crayons. Mark looked around for his usual set of colored pencils. He saw the playpen, the crayons, a stuffed toy and his coloring book.. Coloring. That's what he was about to do. Everything was fine again, until Mark actually started to color. He wanted to shade the elephant, but his crayon wouldn't even stay inside the lines. Mark became very distressed because, not only couldn't he stay within the lines, he was having trouble keeping track of which side of the line enclosed the shape he was drawing. He grew very frustrated and started hyperventilating. It was a good long time before he realized that he was crying like a baby.
Wanda stopped Susan from rushing over to comfort Mark. "Wait a few minutes, Susan," Wanda said, "He's probably just realizing that something is different. That's why we put the new ones down to color. It gives them a chance to get re-oriented from the process, and it is usually their first awareness that something is different. Does he like to draw?"
"Oh yes," Susan said, "he's actually quite a good artist."
"So, this must be quite disturbing to him," Wanda said, "You'd better go to him now."
Susan picked up Mark and held him close. Feeling instantly comforted against Susan, Mark eventually stopped crying, but he held tightly onto Susan. Once he calmed down, Mark realized that he still held the crayon in his hand. He looked at it, and tried to remember why he was holding it. It looked very nice. On an impulse, he popped it into his mouth. It just seemed like the thing to do. He heard Susan gasp and couldn't resist as she opened his mouth and took out the crayon.
Mark felt himself being shifted around, then he felt a firm slap against his bottom, twice. Susan's voice was suddenly very strict, "We don't eat crayons, Markie." It didn't hurt much, because he was protected by his thick diaper, but the sudden sensation startled him into crying again. Susan held him tightly until he stopped.
The two spanks jolted Mark into a new realization of his surroundings. He felt all worn out from crying, but he was now aware that he was very little, and being held close against Susan's chest. This was different. He couldn't quite put his finger on what the change was, but he knew something was definitely different.
Mark let go from Susan and she let him down, holding his hand so he could stand beside her. He realized what the problem was--he was in a strange place, and he had to go potty. He'd feel better after he went to the restroom. Then they could leave. He took his hand from Susan and started to walk towards where he thought the bathroom was. Susan, wondering what Mark was trying to do, let him go. She watched as Mark took a few awkward steps. As Mark started to walk, he became aware of a new feeling between his thighs. He was wearing a diaper! The realization distracted him from walking, and he fell down on his bottom. The fall surprised him and, without quite knowing how or why, he pooped into his diaper. Flooded with new sensations, Mark became confused and started crying again.
Susan swiftly picked him up and held him close. "Did my baby fall down? That's all right! Shhh...." She held him close and rocked him until he stopped crying.
Susan felt like she was ready to take Markie home into his new life, so she said her good-byes to Wanda. Taking the bottle and diapers she had brought, she carried Mark to the car and brought him home.
Contact the author at undrdog@phuze.com
Other Stories by Undrdog
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