The Virus (2 of 2) (Patreon)

Everything was peaceful and relaxing in Rhyse’s dreams. He didn’t consciously know it, but he’d already begun counting himself down to sleep.  Before he knew it, he was back in the little stream, just relaxing.

“Hey there, little buddy,” the giant whispered to him.  “I can tell you’ve already started to relax.  Good job.”  Rhyse smiled.  He liked making Mr. Giant happy.  Speaking of happy…  “Does your thumb still have that magic I gave you?”

“Nnnhnnn…”

“Show me.”

Like a good boy, Rhyse started to suck on his glowing thumb, feeling the happiness fill him..  It helped him to relax even more.  Everything felt so nice and peaceful there in the brook.

“Just relaaaaaax….” The giant whispered to him, gently stroking his hair as he floated there.  “Be happy and relaaaaax.”

If Rhyse said anything, it was mumbled behind his magic thumb.  But it was a good mumble.  A happy mumble. A relaaaaaxed mumble.  

“I’m going to give you another present, little buddy,” Mr. Giant said.  “Are you ready?”  Lying in the river, Rhyse continued sucking his thumb and basking in the happiness. He purred a little bit when Mr. Giant patted him on the head.  “I’m going to give you the gift of concentration.”  

Rhyse didn’t talk, but Mr. Giant must’ve seen something in Rhyse’s face. Concentration didn’t sound like much of a gift.  “With concentration, you can do anything,” Mr. Giant said. “You can finish anything.  You will finish anything.  Just trust me.  Breathe in...”

Still floating in the warm water, Rhyse did as he was told and breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Now hold it.”  Rhyse did.  “You can hold it for a bit, can’t you?”  Still holding his breath, Rhyse nodded. “But you can’t hold it forever, can you?”  Starting to feel uncomfortable, Rhyse shook his head as his chest began to protest.

Mr. Giant kept petting his head.  “It’s okay.  You can let it out, now. Breathe normally.  Relaaaaax.”  Rhyse did so slowly and resumed breathing.  “That’s how your body is going to be for now on,” Mr. Giant told Rhyse. “You can’t stop breathing unless you purposefully try to, and you can’t do it for long, can you?”

“Nnnnhnnn…”

“It’s because your lungs already know how to concentrate.  They’re focused.  That’s how your body is going to be from now on, little buddy,” Mr. Giant told him. “From now on, your body is going to be so focused that once you start something, you won’t be able to stop.”  

Rhyse lazily took his thumb out of his mouth. “Nnnn...stahp…”

“That’s right, little buddy,” Mr. Giant cooed to him.  “You won’t stop.  It won’t matter what you’re doing.  Once you start, you won’t stop.  You won’t need breaks.  You won’t need rest.  Your body will just do what comes naturally.”

Rhyse liked the idea of this.  Cleaning up the house would be easy if he didn’t have a choice.

“But while your body is working,” Mr. Giant promised, “your mind will be free. Free to relaaaaax.”

Gently, Rhyse found his thumb guided back into his mouth and kept sucking.  

“Concentrate.  Concentrate and relaaaaax.”

*********************************************************************************************************
Rhyse woke to Sky shaking his shoulder.  “Rhyse.  Wake up.  Wake up!”  

Eyes still closed, Rhyse let out a long loud yawn before his mouth closed back over his thumb.  “Wuphup?”  

“You’re sucking your thumb and your diaper leaked.” That woke him up.  Sky was standing above him, a spray bottle and rag in hand.  “Get up,” he said.  “The mattress needs to be scrubbed, or the pee smell is never going to go away at this rate.”

Rhyse popped his thumb out and rolled out of bed, feeling oddly mellow considering a large disposable diaper was sagging from his hips.  He ripped the fitted sheets off, and in a sick way marveled out how soaked they were.  Even with the diaper on he’d done a lot of damage.  

His roommate handed him the rag and spray bottle.  “I’ll take care of the sheets and put them in the wash,” Sky told him.  “You scrub the mattress.”

“What time is it?” Rhyse yawned.

“Rhyse, I need you to concentrate.”

Rhyse stood a little straighter.  “Right.”  He was already spraying and scrubbing while Sky was carting the soiled bundle away.  Rhyse hated doing manual labor; hated the monotony of bending over and the repeated actions of scrubbing.  It’s what he hated about brushing his teeth and wiping his ass, too, come to think of it.  

But scrubbing was easy.  It was like his body was on autopilot.  No muss, no fuss.  

“Good job,” Sky said when he returned.  “All done.”  Rhyse stopped.  “Now help me put this on.”

Rhyse looked at the slightly cushioned mass in Sky’s hand.  “What’s that?”

“It’s a mattress protector.  For when you leak again.”   When.  Not if.

“I’m not gonna leak again.”

Sky smirked.  “Are you going to stop wetting the bed?”

“NO!”  Rhyse stopped himself.  That hadn’t come out right.  “I mean...yes? I mean...I don’t know.”  He drooped his head, looking down at the soaking wet diaper between his legs.  Sky rustled Rhyse’s hair, and Rhyse felt oddly better about it.  Not thumb sucking better, but still good.

“Let’s put it on,” Sky said.  “Just in case.”

“Fine,” Rhyse agreed, if only so that he could stop talking and get this over with.  He wasn’t comfortable talking around his thumb.  Truth be told, the mattress protector didn’t seem that bad.  If Rhyse hadn’t known what it was, he might’ve just assumed it was an extra bit of insulation, and not something meant for people who couldn’t be trusted to sleep and hold their piss in at the same time.

Sky picked a fresh diaper up off the floor along with a packet of baby wipes. Where had those come from?  Rhyse had made a point of hiding all of that stuff in the bathroom.  “Good job,” Sky said.  “Now let’s change your diaper.”  

“I can change my own diaper, thank you very much.”  Rhyse tried to snatch the diaper out of Sky’s hand; an effort that failed miserably.  

“No,” Sky said.  “Clearly you can’t.  You wouldn’t have leaked, otherwise.”

Rhyse scowled and crossed his arms. “I just peed a lot.  That’s all.”

“I googled this stuff,” Sky said, a smarmy look on his mug.  “These diapers are supposed to have a six thousand milliliter capacity.  A person pees maaaaybe two thousand milliliters a day, give or take.  You leaked because you put on your diaper wrong.  Lay down.”

Rhyse stood firm.  “No.”

“Think about it logically,” Sky said.  “You didn’t have any leaks when I put the diaper on you.  These things are meant to have help.  See the tapes?”

“I also see the green dragon thing on the front.” Rhyse spat.  

“We’ve been over this,” Sky told him.  “Are you going to throw another tantrum?”

Rhyse sat down on the bed.  “Maybe…”

Sky sat down beside him.  “Did it leak when I put a diaper on you?”

“I didn’t pee in the diaper you put on me.”

“So you haven’t tried it my way.”

Rhyse opened his mouth and closed it.  “But I only leaked in my sleep…” he finally said.

“Do you want to chance it?” Sky asked.  Rhyse didn’t...but he was too proud to admit it.  “Lay down,” Sky said, patting the mattress behind him.  

Reluctantly, Rhyse obeyed. Sky had already diapered him, but Rhyse had never been changed before.  It felt alien; violating.  The sound of the tapes being ripped off was louder when it wasn’t his fingers peeling them off.  The diaper being opened felt more vulnerable when it didn’t immediately plop down to the floor; it was still beneath him.  The wipes felt colder, too.  This was more delicate; more intimate.

 And all Rhyse could do was lay there with his hands behind his head. His thumb started to throb while his roommate cleaned his penis for him.  So weird. “You can suck your thumb if you need to,” Sky told him. “No judgement.”

That was all he needed to hear to start.  His pulse immediately slowed.  

“Hips up. Good boy.”  Rhyse didn’t care that he was being talked to like he was some kind of trained animal.  His thumb made him feel so much better.  Time for the new diaper.  “One more time,” Sky said.  “Thank you.”  The diaper took shape around him as Sky pulled the tapes snugly on and wet and soggy and cold was replaced with warm and dry and crinkly.

So much better…

Almost as good as his thumb.
********************************************************************************************************
“Wow,” Sky smirked.  “You really inhaled those leftover cookies”

“You let me have cookies for breakfast,” Rhyse replied.  “Of course I did!”  

Sky grinned.  “Thought you’d like them.  Contrary to popular belief, cookies don’t get better with age.  So you get a junk food breakfast.  I get the last bowl of Cheerios.  I’ll order more cereal for delivery after we go through the toast.  Win-Win.”  Internally, Sky was marveling at just how well Rhyse was adapting to this.  He seemed like such a cute little tyke, wearing just his diaper, his mouth still covered with crumbs. 

It was hard not to fall in love with that image.  “So what are we doing today?” Rhyse asked.

Sky wanted to melt.  Rhyse was starting to follow his lead consciously now.  Perfect.   “No work,” he said.  “The house is clean enough.”

His roommate seemed relieved by that.  “Oh cool,” he said.  “I guess I’ll just go hang out in my room.”

Shit!  Get to the pitch, fast!  “But,” Sky said before Rhyse could turn his back on him.  “I might have found a way to keep you from turning into a Bee-Vee.”

“Oh?”  That definitely got Rhyse’s attention.  “What?”

Sky walked over to the coffee table and dumped the hundreds of jigsaw pieces out.  “Puzzles.”

“Puzzles?” Rhyse echoed.  “How is a puzzle going to help me be a grown...you know…”

“Exercises your brain,” Sky lied.  “Keeps you focused.  They do stuff like this in nursing homes to fight senility.  Or at least they did before things went crazy.”

Rhyse looked at the disassembled puzzle and back up to Sky.   “Okay,” he huffed.  “It’s worth a shot.

“Cool,” Sky hopped on the couch.  “I’ll let you get to it.”  He opened his book, and pretended to read.  Everything about this morning, about this entire day had been planned in advance to help Rhyse along.  Rhyse hadn’t noticed, but the coffee table had been shifted juuuuust far enough so that he couldn’t Rhyse couldn’t piece the jigsaw together and sit on the couch at the same time.

At first, Rhyse started bending over.  Within ten minutes he was on his knees.  Good.  Very good.  He’d need to get used to playing on the floor.  It was where he belonged.

At fifteen minutes, Sky’s patience was giving out.  Time for a test.  “How you doing?”

“Fine.”  Rhyses voice sounded distant and far off.

“Making progress?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You seem like you’re in a zone.”

“Uh-huh.”

Perfect.  Just as Sky had hoped, Rhyse had worked himself into a light trance.  He’d be moving around those tiles and piecing them together, tuning out the rest of the world.  Now time to see how strong the trance was.

“Do you like this?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sky licked his lips.  “It’s kind of relaxing, isn’t it?”

“Uh…” Rhyse paused, and Sky swore he heard the quiet hiss as Rhyse started wetting his diaper.  “...Huh”.  

Sky hid his face behind his book and waited for Rhyse to freak out; to blush; to panic and excuse himself or ask for a change.  All that happened was Rhyse kept concentrating on what he was doing and shuffling pieces around.  His soon-to-be-little guy was now officially playing in a wet diaper.

Good.  Very good.  Soon enough, Sky hoped, Rhyse wouldn’t even need the trigger word.  He’d just be given something to play with and trance himself and nature would take its course.

An hour or so later, and Rhyse was about seventy-five percent done. But the cookies from last night were ninety nine percent done if that based on the gurgling coming from Rhyse’s tummy.  Sky had lovingly baked the cookies last night from scratch, using laxative chocolate in place of Tollhouse chips.

“Gentle overnight relief,” the box had promised.  Translation: “Make a baby eat it the night before and he’ll be filling his diaper like a good boy by the middle of next morning.”  Right on time.  

Sky knew Rhyse was about to poop his pants (not that he was wearing any) the moment he took that first deep breath.  

BLERRRRRRT.  Peeking out from over his book, Sky marveled as he watched the back of the diaper tent and fill up.  Rhyse, however, just kept playing with his puzzle like a good baby.  Experimentally, Sky leaned over and pulled the diaper back.  Rhyse didn’t even tense up as Sky peeked in to see the wet and much mass he’d deposited.  He didn’t flinch when Sky experimentally patted his backside.

“Come on, bud,” he said, taking Rhyse by the hand.  “Let’s go get you changed.”

Sky watched Rhyse’s eyes widen. “NOOOOO…!”  Rhyse screamed.  “I wanna finish!  Lemme concentrate!  LEMME CONCENTRATE!”  He released Rhyse as though the boy’s hand was a poisonous snake.  Rhyse immediately went quiet and began sucking his thumb, content to keep playing in poopy Pampers.  

Wow.  He really liked this.  That’s what all the chatter online had told him.  Sky felt tremendous satisfaction, at that.  He was right.  He was doing what was best for his Bee-Vee boy.

Sky knew when Rhyse had finished the puzzle.  He heard the gasp.  From his spot behind Rhyse on the couch, he watched as the boy reached back and smushed his own diaper.  Saw him stand up, legs spread wide in an almost natural instinct to want his own feces away from him.

“Sky…” Rhyse started tearing up.  “I...I…” 

Sky took his little roommate’s hand and started patting it reassuringly.  “Come on, bubba.  Let’s go change your diaper.”

*************************************************************************************************************
A few days later, Rhyse trudged around the house with a blanket draped over his shoulder.  “Skyyyyyy!” He whimpered.  “Can you pleeeeeease turn the air down?  It’s chilly in here.”

Sky looked up from his book.  “You want me to make it warmer…?” Sky asked.  The way he asked made it clear that he wasn’t asking for clarification as much as.  “You want me to make it warmer in...in this heatwave?”

“I can see my breath,” Rhyse whined.

“You’re exaggerating.”  Sky rolled his eyes.  “Just go put some clothes on if you’re chilly.”

Rhyse looked himself over.  For close to a week, the only clothing Rhyse had worn was the crinkly disposable diapers that Sky had put him in.  It didn’t feel good realizing that.  It felt worse that he hadn’t realized that dressing himself had been an option.  He’d been so busy trying to work on those puzzles and all the other little remedies Sky was trying that self reliance was.

With a smile, Sky stood up and took Rhyse by the hand.  “I’ll help.”  Rhyse was about to protest when he felt a strangely familiar hand squeeze and pat.  

“I can do it.”

“You can’t even select your own underwear,” Sky said.  “But thank you for trying.”  Rhyse just went along with it and took a seat on his bed while Sky dug through his closet.  He felt he was becoming a passive observer in his own life.  He hadn’t even made it to the potty...er...toilet in days.

Sometimes he was helping Sky with chores (though that was less and less) other times he was trying some weird mental exercise that Sky thought of (and that was more and more).  Either way, he’d just kind of zone out, and when he came to his diaper was usually wet (or worse).  Sometimes, he’d be completely aware and just pee a little bit...but when he started he couldn’t turn it off.  Yesterday, he’d just decided to ride this thing out and went freely in his diaper.  No point otherwise.

“What about this?” Sky said.  Rhyse wanted to light it on fire.

“Where did you get that?”

Sky looked at the yellow onesie with drawings of bees and honeypots on it.  “Got it online.”

“I’m not wearing that…” Rhyse knew it was a lie the moment it came out of his mouth.  He just had to go through the motions at this point.   What was it even doing in his closet?

“Come on, Rhyse.” Sky said.  “Don’t be like that, buddy.”

“It’s a onesie!  Only Bee-Vees wear ‘em!”

“I think it’s cute.  Just wear it,” Sky insisted.

“I’m NOT GONNA!”  Rhyse stuck his thumb in his mouth.  The wave of calm was still battling against an upswell of terror.

The pause between the two roommates grew and grew.

Sky finally broke the silence. “How is that fair to me?

“Whu?”

“I’ve been wiping your ass, and changing your diapers, and bathing you-”

“BAYFING MEH!?”  Rhyse screamed around his thumb.  He pulled the digit out of his mouth long enough to enunciate. “You walked in on me in the shower!”

“I’ve been doing my best to take care of you,” Sky said, keeping his tone level and calm.  “But it’ll be easier to change you if you wear these.  That’s why I bought them.  No other reason.”  When Rhyse continued to pout, Sky added, “Would you rather parade around in just your diaper, all day?”

Rhyse knew he was going to end up wearing it when the argument started.

At least it was comfortable...

************************************************************************************************************
Rhyse was relaxing in the tiny river, yet again.  So relaaaaaxing to just let his cares drift away.  

“Hey baby boy.” It was Mr. Giant, again.  “How are you?”

“Guh-guh-guh,” Rhyse mumbled around his finger.  The birds were chirping a tinkling little song like a lullabye.  

“You did a good job today.” Mr. Giant told him.  “I’m so proud of you.”  A chaste kiss on his forehead made Rhyse blush. 

Oddly human sized lips for a giant, Rhyse thought, but he didn’t comment.  Mr. Giant was magical.  He could do anything he wanted, even change his size when it suited.

“I’ve got another gift for you,” Mr. Giant told him  “This one will help you get rid of all of your sadness and fear.”

Rhyse was glad to hear it.  There had been a lot of that lately.  So much so that his Rhyse had been worried that his thumb would get pruney.  The magic thumb was keeping him calm, but it wasn’t getting rid of the bad feelings.  

It was like baby powder.  It covered up bad smells, but didn’t get rid of their cause.

“I want you to look at your hands,” Mr. Giant said.  “Go on.  Look at them.” Rhyse obeyed. “Good boy.  Now I want you take all your bad feelings; all your fussiness and anger. Force it allll into your hands.  Your hands are starting to feel heavy, aren’t they?”

“Uh-huh…” Rhyse could finally speak clearly because his thumb was out of his mouth.  He’d gotten so used to talking to Mr. Giant, that he wasn’t mumblign as much, either.

“You can’t keep all of those bad feelings in anymore, little buddy.  They’ll stay in your hands for a while.  But   

Rhyse took a look at the palms of his hands.  They were getting red.  Glowing red.  Burning metal red.  “In my diaper…?”  Rhyse asked.

“Oh-ho-ho!” Mr. Giant laughed.  “No, silly boy.  Your hands!  Your hands!  Put all of your anger into your hands and let them get heavy.  But when you grab something.  Like a cup.  Or a spoon or a fork.  All of that heavy, heavy anger will go riiiiight out.  No need to be angry, or fussy.  And all you’ll have left is silly happy feelings.  Because all of the heaviness will go out of your hands, and into what you’re holding.”

Rhyse looked at his hands, burning red.  Yes.  This made sense.  Whatever he picked up would fill with his bad thoughts.  And only is good thoughts would be lift.

************************************************************************************************************
Rhyse was howling with laughter, and he wasn’t sure why.  All he knew was that he couldn’t drink from a glass and it was hilarious for some reason.  He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, and was now drenched from the top of his onesie in water.  

Everytime he lifted the glass to his lips, it just felt so heavy.  It was like trying to heave a full garbage can instead of a drinking glass.  He could make it budge, but then everything got top heavy.  After the first one crashed to the floor and shattered, he switched to plastic instead of glass.

The door to Sky’s room opened.  Sky had bags around his eyes and looked like he’d just barely drifted off to sleep  “Rhyse?”  He asked.  “What is going on, baby?  Buddy…” he half corrected himself.

“Haaaaa!”  Rhyse howled with laughter.  He sounded like he was a giggly little boy, even as his mind was racing.  “I can’t drink!  I keep spilling!  Haaaa-haaaa-haaaa-hooooo!”

Sky frowned, but something looked off about it, though Rhyse was too tired to piece it all together.  “Here,” he said.  “Let me help.”  Sky reached into the cupboard and took out a plastic bottle with a rubber nipple on top.

“A baby bottle?”

“It’s my nephew’s from when I used to babysit...  I dug it out...just in case.“   Rhyse knew it to be a lie...but he was just so tired.  He just wanted to relax.  He didn’t even feel his diaper warming up.

Sky filled up the bottle and led him back over to the couch.  Sky sat down first and then guided Rhyse’s head into his lap.  “Let’s give this a try.”

That’s when Rhyse knew it was going to be all downhill from here.  When the nipple touched his lips he started to nurse and suckle, and deep down through a dreamy haze, Rhyse knew he wasn’t going to be able stop.  

Even as his tummy started rumbling.  Even as he lifted his knees up to his belly button. Even as he started pushing the solid mush into his diaper.

He was broken.  He was a Bee-Vee.  The virus had his body.  His mind was next.
***********************************************************************************************************
Several days later, as Rhyse rested in the nursery, Sky listened on the baby monitor, filled with a sense of pride and contentment.  The transitions came faster and faster, and Rhyse was happily complying.   It was like being a cute little Bee-Vee was what Rhyse was meant to be, deep down; even if he’d never contracted the virus.

Computer swap out for a baby monitor? No problems.  No arguments.  Same with the crib and the mobile.  Without even suggesting it (subliminally or otherwise) Rhyse was starting to refer to Sky as “Daddy” and Sky was in no mood to deny it.

This was everything that Sky had ever wanted.  The little mewling sounds Rhyse was making as he made boom-booms was adorable.  But because he wasn’t done with the nap, yet, Rhyse would close his eyes and go back to sleep, full diaper or not; just like a baby.  “My little stinker,” Sky chuckled to himself.  

A new headline greeted Sky as he logged into his social media.  “Warning: Baby Virus is a Misnomer.”  

Sky kept reading.

“While it is true that dementia and temporary incontinence are common symptoms in approximately twenty percent of the infected, especially among the elderly” the article said, “the virus has been shown to have a tendency to mutate in younger carriers.  Most prominently is a form of psychosis and an overwhelming urge to reduce someone to an infantile state.  Many doctors, nurses, and other professional caregivers are being quarantined and put under observation and further study after falsifying findings as an excuse to continue to baby their patients.  

People suffering these particular side effects have been shown to still retain a high level of intelligence and develop tendencies towards manipulation; going so far as to poison those close to them in an attempt to coerce them into diapers and acting like a baby.  If your loved one insists that you might have contracted the virus, be careful; experts warn.  They may in fact be the ones who have become infected.”

Sky read the article.  Then deleted it.  

(THE END)