The Regression Virus (Part 3) (Patreon)

Part 3 = Things had become anything but normal by just a few weeks later. My Mom has stopped giving me updates on what she’s been reading in her stupid pamphlets, but I overheard her and Dad talking (When I was eavesdropping after they’d tried to put me to bed.) and she was telling him that by this point my mental state has to be around 12 years old.

I have been trying my best to keep things as normal as I can, but just as all the PSA’s about the virus described, I am losing any sense of control over my body. I tried focusing on making lesson plans for my class, even though I didn’t have that job anymore, but after only about 15 minutes of working on it I could feel myself growing sooooooo bored with it and restless. Before I knew it I had run outside, slipped into some old roller blades, and was giggling as I played outside.

My Mother tried to help me keep a tight leash on my mental aptitude by giving me some ‘homework’ to do, but that just made me feel even more like a good as I struggled to solve pretty simple Pythagorean Theorem problems.

I also tried to continue wearing my regular clothes, but quickly found that my body, despite having not changed at all physically, seemed to not be comfortable in my old clothes. They consisted mostly of blouses, business skirts, work pants, and heels, but none of them, especially the heels, felt right to my body at all anymore. I tried to walk in my heels a few times, but the sight looked more like a toddler trying on her Mother’s heels as I kept stumbling and falling in them despite wearing them almost exclusively for few years. After a while my Mother made the decision to buy me a few new things because I couldn’t continue to wear nothing but my pajamas everywhere. Soon enough, I found myself almost exclusively wearing colorful dresses or t-shirts and shorts. The same kinda thing I wore when I was really a kid.

Almost by the day, I could feel the disconnect from my brain to my body becoming worse. It was like I was sitting in the passenger seat and someone else was the driver in my body. I would try to give my body commands and it may kinda follow the order I gave it, but for the most part it felt like I was just an observer watching myself try on heels, or giggle as I started swaying the rainbow dress I was wearing, or even gag unless my Mother let me eat something more like mac and cheese or chicken nuggets. It felt kinda like being very drunk where you have some control over your body, and you can somewhat nudge yourself in certain directions, but your body and mouth just seem to do and say things without much input from your brain.

As another week or two went by, I started getting more frustrated as everyone around the house, even my little brother started treating me differently. My younger brother was 18 and so quite a few years younger than me, but according to my Mother’s stupid pamphlets he was mentally older than me by far by now.

I didn’t think that all of the things they were doing was necessary, but I had a bad feeling that my denial was getting worse too.

When my Mother moved me back into my old room for example, the first blaring thing that I noticed was the crinkly plastic sheet that was over my bed. I tried to question my Mother about it, but she insisted it was necessary to protect the mattress. I wish I could argue about it with her, but since my bedwetting continued to be a pretty regular thing there wasn’t really anything I could say. Especially when we were in the middle of the grocery store (Me holding Mom’s hand.) and I felt a sudden warm spreading through my shorts. I didn’t realize I was peeing myself until I heard my Mother gasp and start dragging me towards the bathroom in a crude attempt to try and dry me off.

My dwindling bladder control wasn’t the only childish treatment I was getting though. My brothers had grown increasingly overprotective of me and will barely let me out of their sight much less do things for myself like cook or do potentially dangerous housework. Even my younger brother who had always kind of been the baby of the family, had stepped up and was showing that he could really take on the role of big brother when he needed to. (Not that I was super happy about being the one he was taking care of.)

For a while I was able to live somewhat blissfully unaware of the detrimental effects the virus was having on me, but as things started to get worse I really couldn’t deny it all longer.

I was sitting in my chair in the kitchen... wearing a bib to protect my shirt... and eating some cookies that my Mom had given me. I didn’t notice anything was blatantly wrong until my Mom said, “What’s that smell?”

I didn’t know what she meant until I shifted a little in my seat and felt the warm squishy mess in the back of my undies.

As I sat there, waiting to be discovered, I knew that I was already far past the point of no return...
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This story was written by Zander Chesney

You can find more of his content here :

https://zanderchesneyoriginals.tumblr.com/