This is a story about a young man who wants to be regressed and gets more than he bargained for. While I’ve already completed the story and posted it elsewhere, I am posting a clean version here which has never been seen before. I’ll post in chapters as I revise for content. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it and I look forward to your feedback!
Back to School Chapter 1: How it All Started
Six months ago, I was beginning my sophomore year in the psychology department, specializing in human sexuality. Like many people in psychology, I had his own share of mental issues to work through. For one, I was a gay ABDL, and even though my classes involved looking at sex in a detached, non-judgmental way, I still carried a lot of shame about it and kept it to myself. I had a mentor in Dr. Stannopoulis, an ambitious young professor, and also an authority in the field of human sexuality. It was in Dr. Stannopoulis’ class that I finally got the courage to write about my fetish. The Dr. was greatly impressed and he offered to co-publish an article with me based on my paper, but I wasn’t ready to do that – what if people who knew me found out about it? Dr. Stannopoulis didn’t take it very well at first, and I was afraid I had lost him as an ally and mentor, but he calmed down eventually. Then, just after finals, something terrible happened.
I woke up to a loud knock on my dorm room door. My roommate and I looked at each other confused as to who it could be. “Open up, it’s the RA. I know you’re in there.”
I got up groggily and opened the door to see Samantha, the RA, huffing with her hands on her hips.
“You’re going to have to let me in. I’ve got a tip that you might be hiding drugs in your room.
“What?” I asked, surprised. “I don’t do drugs! Come in and see for yourself!”
I stepped back to let her in and after a quick inspection, she opened my dresser drawer and pulled out a bag of marijuana.
“No drugs? Explain this then.”
“I- that’s not mine!” I had no idea where that baggie had come from, I had never touched the stuff.
“That’s what they all say!” She sneered. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to call the police, and you will be evicted from the dorms for violating school policy. I hope this is an example to all of the students who think they can just do what they want without any consequences.”
“But- but- but- but I…”
And thus began my long ordeal – of losing my housing, of losing my financial aid, of having to explain to my parents why drugs were found in his room. Even they didn’t believe my claim that the drugs weren’t mine, and my Dad said that when I got home I was in for the biggest whooping of my life. But luckily there was one sympathetic soul on campus, and that was Dr. Stannopoulis. He told me he could help, so I scheduled a meeting with him in his office.
“I’m glad you came, Nick. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this.”
“But you believe me, right Dr.? That the drugs weren’t mine?”
He sat back and appraised me. “Maybe they weren’t, but unfortunately you’re already lost your privileges of financial aid and campus housing, so it doesn’t make much difference at this point.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But you said there’s a way that I can finish the program. Tell me, what do I have to do?”
“The only way I can see for you to stay enrolled is by finding a new source of funds. I know just such a source, but I warn you,” his eyes flashed for just a moment, “it’s a bit… unconventional.”
“I don’t care if I have to sell a testicle, you’ve got to help me!”
“Very well. I’ll tell you. We have a generous grant for an experimental program over the summer that would pay for your room and board, and your tuition for your final two years. It involves regression therapy – do you know what that is?”
I nodded my head, thinking back to the experiments in the 70’s that were meant to retrain people who had gone down the wrong path by mentally turning them into infants.
“Yes, we talked about it in class. We’re doing an updated version of regression therapy – and intensive ten week program to test the limits of the human psyche. If we succeed, it could have huge repercussions for our legal system, and rehabilitation in general. It’s a big commitment, and we haven’t found anyone willing to volunteer, but,” The Doctor eyed me carefully, “based on your predilections, I thought it might be something you’d be open to.” My heart raced in my chest as the full meaning of what he was offering hit me.
“Y-you’re telling me I could actually live as a baby over the summer?”
“And… will I have to actually sleep in a crib, and eat in a high chair, and wear… diapers?”
He chuckled and nodded, “That’s the idea…”
“And it pays for everything.”
“That’s right. Oh, there are a few extra details, but those would all be in the contract if you chose to agree.”
“Sign me up!”
The Doctor was pleased with my decision and told me to go enjoy the next month with my family. He would have the contract drawn up by June and have all the necessary preparations ready as well. And so, I went home with the good news (minus the whole becoming a baby part), and only got a minor whooping from my Dad in the form of a humiliating over the knee spanking in full view of my whole family. Dad made me swear I would go through with it, and if I backed out, he told me the spanking would be the best thing to happen to me all summer. There really was not going back at this point. Finally, at the end of June it was time to meet the Dr. again. He told me not to bring anything up with me – that all of my needs would be taken care of for the summer. I walked into Dr. Stannopoulis’ office feeling very scared. My mouth was dry as he offered me a seat.
“I trust you’ve had time to think on it, and you still want to go through with this?” he asked, in a soft voice.
“Yes, Dr. I do. For my family – and for myself. I might never get a chance to discover myself if I don’t.”
“Good, very good.” The Dr. smiled warmly. “Now, I want to go over the contract with you. There are a few details that you have to be aware of before you sign. First, in order to prove that you are especially suited to participate in the study, I need your permission to use your paper as proof of your pre-existing interest in being regressed. Will you grant me full rights to use your paper as part of my work in this study?”
I nodded, seeing the sense in such a request.
“Good. Second, you’re going to have to admit the drugs were yours – now I know,” He said, interrupting me before I could protest, “you say they weren’t yours. But this is a rehabilitation program in part, so you are going to have to sign a prepared statement admitting your guilt, and the fact that you only did this as a cry for attention – because of your need to give up your adult responsibilities and be a baby again.”
“I- I guess it’s not too far of a stretch. I mean it is something I’ve always fantasized about. Okay, I’ll sign it.” A little white lie couldn’t hurt, right?
“And finally, the rest of this contract concerns your adherence to the program. I’ll just read through the most salient points, and you can tell me after if there’s anything you don’t understand.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, preparing to recite the long list of rules and regulations. “By signing this contract, you agree to go through the entire 10 week program. You forfeit your rights as an adult, and you will not have the option of backing out. You can see yourself regressing into infanthood and how it will be to be treated as a baby. The person who you will live with during this ten week period is me. You will be living in my home, and you will refer to me as Daddy at all times. I am your Daddy, and you are going to go through the entire ten week program. Don’t look at the clock, pay attention to the words of this contract. And you will also do anything I ask of you, because you are a good boy – if you sign this contract. And you will do anything to be called a good boy because it makes you feel so good. Pay attention to the words of the contract and don’t watch the clock, you may also notice that you are slipping into a bit of a trance as I read these words to you but try to focus, because this is very important. You are being slowly regressed into infanthood, and by signing this contract you agree to forfeit your adult rights, and you understand that you cannot leave until the program is complete. Look at me, pay attention to the words of the contract, don’t look at the clock, and pay attention to the sound of my voice. You-” At this point I kind of zoned out, not quite understanding the complete meaning of his words anymore. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed but eventually I came to, to hear him finish his reading of all the terms and conditions.
“…and by signing this contract you agree to all the terms and conditions I have outlined. Are you a good boy and will you sign the contract?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I mumbled absent mindedly as I picked up the pen. I held my breath as I signed the contract, and the attached forms admitting my drug use, and giving the Doctor permission to use my paper. This was a big leap for me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it, but I had wanted this for a long time. I wanted to be a baby, and Daddy was here to make it happen if only I signed this little piece of paper and committed myself to the program. A ten week trial. This was going to be intense, but it was the only way I could continue my studies and, more importantly, the only way I could find out who I really was inside. There was my signature, and so it began.