The Regression Virus (Part 4) (Patreon)

Part 4 = That first messy accident was just the start of a slippery slope that got worse and worse as the days went on. I think my Mom had been expecting such a thing to happen for a while now, but part of her was hoping that it never would. Thankfully she wasn’t angry like I thought she would be, she just tried to comfort me and quickly got me cleaned up. After all, according to her it no longer was mentally a 25 year old who had just pooped her panties, it was a 6 year old. The fact that I have to think that about myself horrifies me, but I can’t deny it any longer.

Any small amount of control that I had remaining over my body was effectively completely gone now. My mind was still that of a 25 year old, but I had virtually zero control over my body’s actions any longer. I couldn’t get myself to ask my Mother to make me a snack or ask my brothers to take me for a walk, much less keep the... pull-ups I now had to wear dry.

That’s right. My Mother and my brother’s, bless their hearts, couldn’t take the messy clean up jobs any longer so they finally decided that since they knew I wasn’t going to get any better, that they should finally put me into some protection. That first package of XL cupcake pull-ups my Mother ripped open was the worst thing I think I’ve ever seen. As she slipped the soft, but crinkly padding onto my butt I had to then watch her gather every last pair of panties that I owned and put them into a plastic bag to throw away. Every one - my sexy thongs, my lace bikini undies, and every last pair of boyshorts I had all dumped away and trashed. Replaced with pull-ups that my body could barely keep dry for more than a few hours.

For a while after I first got put into them, my Mom was the only one performing... diaper checks on me, but before too long she forced the rest of the family to help out too. It was hard for them, especially my brother’s at first to treat their physically grown sister like a toddler who needed her diaper changed, but soon enough they all were able to grasp the fact that a “toddler” is all that I was now, and despite how womanly my body looked, they needn’t treat me or think of me like I was anything else.

Several weeks into me being in pull-ups full time my Mother confirmed with the family that at my current stage the virus had surely reduced me down to the age of about a 3 year old. In the back of my mind I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In my mind I could still perform complicated mathematical equations and quote Shakespeare, but on the outside... after being left alone in my ‘playroom’ for less than 5 minutes, my body was sucking on a wooden block while it grunted as a mushy mess flowed deeply into the back of my pull-up, filling it up and making it sag.

One day in that time stands out though, it was the day my friends came to say goodbye. Even though none of this was technically my fault, that day was probably one of the most all time embarrassing days of my life.

Most of my best friends from school as well as a few others came for a ‘playdate’ to say goodbye to me before I reach the final stages of the virus. Katie, Trisha, Jessica. All of my best girl friends had come to ‘see me off’ as it were. More embarrassing than that though were the guy friends who had showed up. Andrew and Carlos and even Nathan (Whom I had briefly dated as well as had a crush on for at least 10 years.) was there.

They all sat around drinking and talking, kinda awkwardly as they tried talking to me too, but was getting as much from me as you’d get from any 3 year old. Soon enough my Mother handed me a bottle of warm milk to drink, which my body happily accepted when my mind would much rather have had some of the wine my friends were all drinking.

I wasn’t sure how much of my condition my friends all knew. Not many of them had come to see me before now since I’d gotten it. So seeing me now was probably pretty jarring for them. Especially when my body paused in its playtime to take a quick tinkle before announcing to my Mother (And the rest of the room.) that I had gone peepee. As horrified as I was with my bodies actions, I was just glad that none of my old bullies were here. They’d be getting a kick out of all this.

The final shock though came that evening when my Mother was putting me to bed that night in my new “adult sized crib”. She was cooing me and trying to comfort me like she always did, but she explained to me that I had had two small messy accidents that day and peed at least 3 times. (Like I needed reminding.) She was mostly talking to herself, but she told me that with as fast as I was accelerating potty training was no longer a viable option.

With a small sigh, I could hear her rip open a new package and she came over with... a diaper. A full sized adult colorful patterned diaper. Pull-ups no longer...Part 4 = That first messy accident was just the start of a slippery slope that got worse and worse as the days went on. I think my Mom had been expecting such a thing to happen for a while now, but part of her was hoping that it never would. Thankfully she wasn’t angry like I thought she would be, she just tried to comfort me and quickly got me cleaned up. After all, according to her it no longer was mentally a 25 year old who had just pooped her panties, it was a 6 year old. The fact that I have to think that about myself horrifies me, but I can’t deny it any longer.

Any small amount of control that I had remaining over my body was effectively completely gone now. My mind was still that of a 25 year old, but I had virtually zero control over my body’s actions any longer. I couldn’t get myself to ask my Mother to make me a snack or ask my brothers to take me for a walk, much less keep the... pull-ups I now had to wear dry.

That’s right. My Mother and my brother’s, bless their hearts, couldn’t take the messy clean up jobs any longer so they finally decided that since they knew I wasn’t going to get any better, that they should finally put me into some protection. That first package of XL cupcake pull-ups my Mother ripped open was the worst thing I think I’ve ever seen. As she slipped the soft, but crinkly padding onto my butt I had to then watch her gather every last pair of panties that I owned and put them into a plastic bag to throw away. Every one - my sexy thongs, my lace bikini undies, and every last pair of boyshorts I had all dumped away and trashed. Replaced with pull-ups that my body could barely keep dry for more than a few hours.

For a while after I first got put into them, my Mom was the only one performing... diaper checks on me, but before too long she forced the rest of the family to help out too. It was hard for them, especially my brother’s at first to treat their physically grown sister like a toddler who needed her diaper changed, but soon enough they all were able to grasp the fact that a “toddler” is all that I was now, and despite how womanly my body looked, they needn’t treat me or think of me like I was anything else.

Several weeks into me being in pull-ups full time my Mother confirmed with the family that at my current stage the virus had surely reduced me down to the age of about a 3 year old. In the back of my mind I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In my mind I could still perform complicated mathematical equations and quote Shakespeare, but on the outside... after being left alone in my ‘playroom’ for less than 5 minutes, my body was sucking on a wooden block while it grunted as a mushy mess flowed deeply into the back of my pull-up, filling it up and making it sag.

One day in that time stands out though, it was the day my friends came to say goodbye. Even though none of this was technically my fault, that day was probably one of the most all time embarrassing days of my life.

Most of my best friends from school as well as a few others came for a ‘playdate’ to say goodbye to me before I reach the final stages of the virus. Katie, Trisha, Jessica. All of my best girl friends had come to ‘see me off’ as it were. More embarrassing than that though were the guy friends who had showed up. Andrew and Carlos and even Nathan (Whom I had briefly dated as well as had a crush on for at least 10 years.) was there.

They all sat around drinking and talking, kinda awkwardly as they tried talking to me too, but was getting as much from me as you’d get from any 3 year old. Soon enough my Mother handed me a bottle of warm milk to drink, which my body happily accepted when my mind would much rather have had some of the wine my friends were all drinking.

I wasn’t sure how much of my condition my friends all knew. Not many of them had come to see me before now since I’d gotten it. So seeing me now was probably pretty jarring for them. Especially when my body paused in its playtime to take a quick tinkle before announcing to my Mother (And the rest of the room.) that I had gone peepee. As horrified as I was with my bodies actions, I was just glad that none of my old bullies were here. They’d be getting a kick out of all this.

The final shock though came that evening when my Mother was putting me to bed that night in my new “adult sized crib”. She was cooing me and trying to comfort me like she always did, but she explained to me that I had had two small messy accidents that day and peed at least 3 times. (Like I needed reminding.) She was mostly talking to herself, but she told me that with as fast as I was accelerating potty training was no longer a viable option.

With a small sigh, I could hear her rip open a new package and she came over with... a diaper. A full sized adult colorful patterned diaper. Pull-ups no longer...
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This story was written by Zander Chesney

You can find more of his content here :

https://zanderchesneyoriginals.tumblr.com/