The Virus

Rhyse woke up in his crib during naptime, the mobile above his head still gently playing music above his head. He couldn’t see the soaking wet diaper beneath his onesie, but he saw the swollen bulge rising above his crotch, and felt the room temperature squishiness enveloping him. He’d been put down dry, but it didn’t last.

It wouldn’t be long before Sky came in and changed him. It wouldn’t be long before he was set down on the floor and allowed to play with his blocks and stuffies. It wouldn’t be long before that was all he could do. The virus had him.

(Two Weeks Ago)

“Stupid fucking wifi is out again!” Rhyse screamed across the house. “SKY!” The wifi isn’t workiiiing!

The hair on the back of Sky’s neck stood straight on end. It had only been a month in quarantine, and already the two roommates were driving each other crazy. ‘Essential services’ were the only jobs allowed, and neither of them were package deliverers, food industry employees, or healthcare professionals.

Sky closed his book and walked across the house. The Arc of the Scythe would have to wait. Like a fool, he’d thought that he’d at least have time to catch up on his reading. It just meant more time to have to babysit Rhyse. Passing a sink full of dirty dishes and three half-full garbage bags that had yet to be taken out to the curb, Sky could only shake his head in disgust. Not quite empty soda cans- just full enough to attract fruit flies- littered the living room; left on whatever flat surface they might find purchase on. At this rate, Sky was going to have to highstep around the house if he wanted to talk to Rhyse face to face.

“What is it?” Sky asked, poking his head into Rhyse’s room. He immediately started breathing through his mouth as the smell of skunk weed and unwashed clothes invaded his nostrils.

Rhyse sat at his computer, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. “The wi-fi’s out again,” he whined.

Sky caught a peek at a little too much of his roommate and turned his head. “OGH! Rhyse, at least put your dick away when you’re talking to me!”

His roommate had the decency to look down at himself and tuck it away. “Sorry,” Rhyse said. “Been indoors too long.”

“Okay, new rule,” Sky snipped. “If you want to talk to me you have to have pants on.”

Rhyse rolled his eyes. “Okay, Mom. The wifi’s out. Can you check the modem?”

“Modem’s in the living room. Why don’t you check it?”

Rhyse leaned back in his fancy leather gaming chair. “Because your room is closer to the living room.”

Unconsciously, Sky’s hands balled up into fists. “Do it yourself.”

“Pleeeeeeease!” Rhyse wasn’t even looking at Sky anymore. He just kept trying to refresh whatever porn site or game he was on.

“Can you at least do the dishes or something?” Sky asked. “Take out the garbage? The truck is coming tomorrow and I don’t want this stuff stinking up the house. It’s starting to attract bugs.”

“Sure,” Rhyse nodded, still not looking away from his screen. “Tomorrow. Maybe it’s my computer…”

“The trucks come early in the morning. You should put out the garbage tonight so that the trucks get it tomorrow.”

“Yup.” Somewhere, deep down, they both knew Rhyse was lying.

Dejectedly and feeling ever the pushover, Sky trudged back out to check the modem. “Please let this quarantine be over soon,” Sky prayed.

The two had been friends since college, with Sky finishing his Masters just as Rhyse earned his bachelor’s degree. It’d made sense at the time to split the rent. Before the quarantine, Rhyse had been a good friend and a good roommate. But the lockdown had forced Sky to confront some uncomfortable truths about his buddy: Some people grew out of their old college habits of acting like a kid while working like an adult; others were like Rhyse.

Now Rhyse felt as though he were being invaded in his own home by a toddler. But maybe that was wishful thinking. If Rhyse had been infected by the virus, it would at least give Sky some authority to take charge of him.

From his room, just as Sky was going to restart the modem, Rhyse called out. “Got it! It was on my end. Just had to turn it off and on again.” Great. More time wasted.

Goddamnit, Sky wished he was essential personnel right about now. Even being a package boy or a garbage man would have been preferable. Sure, it meant he’d be throwing bags and bags and bags of dirty diapers away or delivering fresh ones, but at least he could get away from his roommate.

Rhyse hadn’t always been such a slob. No wait…that was a lie. Rhyse had always been a complete and total slob. But Rhyse ate drive thru so much that the grossness was confined to his car and bedroom, giving Sky the freedom to roam and maintain the rest of the two bedroom one bath house they’d rented together.

Now the ratio of space was shifting way out of Sky’s favor.

Since news of the virus broke, going outside was not an option. People were afraid to even talk to each other face to face. It had some fancy scientific name, but the news was calling it the Baby Virus. It was highly contagious, and even though only about twenty percent of people infected with it started showing symptoms, the symptoms were a doozy.

Incontinence, loss of fine and gross motor coordination, heightened emotional instability, decreased memory, lethargy, and sensory overload. Brains were literally being rewired and the symptoms, on the outside at least were making the afflicted seem like giant babies.

Chances are everyone was going to have it sooner or later, even if most people were asymptomatic. The people who did get the symptoms though, oof. No cure, either. Just a matter of letting the disease run its course. Some people ended up peeing themselves for a couple of days and then went back to normal. Others were no longer speaking English (or any other language for that matter) and were nowhere near independent. People had died, but it was mostly in self-mutilation accidents, like leaving a giant toddler unattended; or someone stupidly trying to drive themselves to a hospital after forgetting which color was green.

Across the country, hospitals and nursing homes were being converted into nurseries and play-centers. The news was talking about “Bee-Vee’s” as if they were a new fad or social class. Many of the unafflicted had taken to dressing up their suffering S.O.’s, roommates, and family members as giant babies in an attempt to make caring for them more palatable.

If you’re gonna be shitting yourself and drooling, you might as well look cute and easy to clean up. That rationale worked for real babies, so why not the unreal ones? People on social media were trying to make the best of a bad situation, posting ‘Bee-Vee pics’. The narrative from a lot of Sky’s Twitter and Facebook pals had seen a steady transition from ‘woe is me’ to ‘we’ll get through this’, proceeded by ‘this is easy’, followed by ‘isn’t he the cutest?!’. Quarantine did weird stuff to some people.

It’d definitely brought out the worst in Rhyse. As Sky closed the door to his bedroom and cracked open his book, he couldn’t help but think: Wouldn’t it be nice in a weird way if Rhyse came down with a case of the B.V.? At least then, Rhyse’s gross smells would stay contained in a diaper, and Sky would only have to worry about seeing his dick during changes and bathtime. It’d be hard for the little guy to make a mess of everything if he were confined to a playpen and wooden blocks and stuffies were a lot easier to clean up after than beer bottles, soda cans, and pizza boxes.

That was a stupid idea, though. A silly one. No way would he be able to get away with it….or could he?

It was two hours of searching the internet later before Sky resumed reading his book in earnest. According to Google, it’d actually be relatively easy to trick Rhyse into thinking he’d been infected with B.V. and then get him to act the part. Multiple sites that had popped up with a single search. He’d gotten links to and lurked on a few new telegram servers where people actively discussed using the quarantine to their advantage to “teach little ones some manners”. This was a thing. This was really a thing. Holy shit, people were freaks! Nasty ones too!

Sky would never do something like that to his buddy. Would he?

Of course he wouldn’t. He put the idea out of his mind entirely, and picked up his book, spending the rest of the afternoon finding out whether Rowan Damisch or Citra Terranova would prevail.

Sky wandered out to the bathroom, blurry eyed the next morning, and rubbing his eyes. After he’d relieved himself, flushed, and washed his hands, he looked around, feeling his face flush and his temperature rise in pure fury. “RHYYYYYYYYSE!”

No response. “RHYYYYYSE!”

“What?” The voice sounded sleepy.

Sky stomped to Rhyse’s room and flung open the door. It took all of his restraint to not kick it down. Rhyse was still in bed, a pillow pulled over his face. The smell of weed and B.O. was worse than yesterday. “Why isn’t the garbage picked up and placed out?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” Rhyse’s voice came through muffled by his pillow.

The more responsible of the two walked up and ripped the pillow off the other one’s face. “You said that yesterday! The garbage truck has already come and gone!”

Rhyse kept his eyes closed. “Sorry.” They both knew he was lying.

Sky didn’t say anything. He just left, quietly closed the door behind him and trudged to his room. He pulled out his tablet and followed a few of the links left on discord. Enough was enough. If Rhyse was going to act like a helpless and disgusting Bee-Vee, so be it.

He spent the rest of the day downloading programs and researching techniques, devouring information faster than his eyeballs could process, while making several pricey orders; special delivery, expedited shipping.

Rhyse was in such a deep sleep that he didn’t even know he was dreaming that night.

“Rhyyyyse….” A soft voice whispered. “Rhyyyse. Can you hear me, buddy?”

His head on his pillow, Rhyse reflexively mumbled in his sleep. “Nnnnhhnnn…” The voice sounded familiar, but in the darkness behind his eyelids Rhyse couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He knew the voice, he definitely did…but his conscious mind- blurred by cheap beer and pizza rolls- couldn’t process it.

“Good.” The voice said. “Good. You’re going to go on a little trip. Are you ready?”

“Ivvafitr?” Rhyse asked. (Which was a mumbling closed mouth utterance of “Is it an acid trip”, because of course it was.)

A gentle hand stroked his forehead. “Shhhhhhhh,” it whispered. “You don’t need to talk. Just listen.”

Low soothing music and the chirping of birds came into Rhyse’s ears. “Hello little one,” a soothing, quiet voice said, still sounding strangely familiar. “It’s time to go for a little journey. Right now, you’re hearing the little birdies go tweet tweet tweet. It feels good to go outside, doesn’t it?

Rhyse nodded and smiled. After being locked up for so long, it felt good to be out in the fresh hair. “Don’t worry, though,” The voice said. “I’m right beside you. Here to protect you and keep you safe. When you’re ready to go, just reach up and take my hand.”

The young man looked up and saw a giant, its silhouette like an eclipse blocking out the sun. He let out a gasp. “Don’t worry, little buddy. I won’t hurt you. Take my hand.” The giant reached his hand down, and feeling small and helpless, Rhyse reached up and grasped it.

“Let’s go, little buddy. Walk with me.” And so he did, taking quick little steps to keep up with the big person’s slow and thundering stride. “We’re going through the forest, with all the trees and the little tweeting birds. It will take ten big boy steps to get out of the forest. Quietly, count down with me.”

Though he couldn’t quite hear his own voice, Rhyse counted down with the giant. “Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…one…”

“Good,” the giant said. He gave Rhyse’s hand a squeeze and pat. “Good boy.” The sound of a gentle breeze rustling grass filled Rhyse’s dream. “Now we’re in a windy meadow.” As if Rhyse needed that explained to him. He could already see the tall grass wafting in the breeze. “To get where we’re going, we’re going to need to take five regular sized steps, next. Ready?”


“Shhhhh…. Just walk with me this time. Five…four…three…two…one…aaaaand we’re out.”

Rhyse next heard the gentle sound of running water. He could practically smell the moisture in the air. The giant gave his hand another gentle squeeze and a loving pat.

“We’re almost to the stream,” the giant told him. “You’re going to get to swim and relax for a little bit. Can you hear it?” Without saying a word, Rhyse nodded. “Don’t worry, little one, the water is very warm. It’s very close. We’re only going to need to take three baby steps. That’s easy. You can do it. Ready? Three…two…one…We’re there! Good boy!”

Rhyse smiled. With Sky constantly on his case about every little thing, it felt good to get some praise. He almost purred when the big giant squeezed his hand and patted it for a third time.

“Here, let’s test the water,” the giant told him. I’m going to dip your hand in the water, just to test it out. “Feel the nice warm water.” And he did. It felt so real that his conscious mind wondered if he was really dreaming, even as his unconscious mind accepted everything as fact. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Nice? And warm? And wet?”

Eyes closed, even in his dream, Rhyse just hummed agreement. “Let me just dip you in, little one. Feel the water coursing, over you. Just lie back and float.”

He felt the warm water engulf him, gentle and comfortable. Soothing. Was that his thoughts or was that what the giant was whispering sweetly to him? He didn’t know and didn’t care.

“And if you have to pee, just relax and let it go. No one will know. No one will see. It will just get mixed in with all the other warm water.”

For the first time, Rhyse frowned.

“Just let it go,” the giant whispered. “You know you’ve done it before. Why should you be stressed out over nothing? Just relaaaaaaaaax….”

He was right, Rhyse knew. So instead, he just relaxed and let it all flow into the river. He couldn’t even tell that he was doing it, because the warm water inside of him just mixed with the warm water surrounding him.

“Good boy,” the giant whispered. “Isn’t that more relaxing?” Rhyse just closed his eyes and purred. “The next time you fall asleep, you’re going to come back to this little stream? Okay?”


“Good boy.”

The music faded out. The giant walked away, and Rhyse’s dreams drifted off with the nice warm river he’d been floating in.

Rhyse woke up feeling uncomfortable, his sheets were cold and uncomfortable, and oddly wet for some reason he couldn’t quite wrap his brain around. He didn’t smell the stench of stale urine anymore than he’d detected his own body odor or the lingering smell of marijuana and cheap incense in his room. The nose only detected new scents and was blind to anything that it had been exposed to for more than an hour or so.

It wasn’t until he rolled over and yawned; felt the sickly stickiness as he peeled clammy sheets off his legs that something finally clicked. He’d peed the bed!

“Fuck!” The cold and wet sheets now burned like acid, as he leaped off his mattress. His three day old boxers were soaked but not dripping, but only because the mess had already spread so far and become completely soaked up. What his boxers hadn’t absorbed, his blanket and bed sheets had made up the difference.

His body going into autopilot, Rhyse stripped his boxers down and tossed them onto the bed so that he could strip his sheets off in one big bundle. Feet shuffling like a scared toddler, he took the piss stained mass out of his room and straight to the laundry room; not caring how many fast food bags he stepped on or soda cans he knocked over. To his small fortune, the washing machine was empty, not that it would have stopped him from overloading it.

Just as he was shoving his sheets in and going for a laundry pod, he heard a voice behind him. “Rhyse?”

Rhyse spun around on his heel and was face to face with Sky. Play it cool, he told himself. Play it cool. “Oh, hey Sky,” he said. “Just decided it’s about time to do some laundry.”

Sky cocked an eyebrow, obviously suspicious. “You don’t normally do laundry.”

“Yeah, I know….just got to be too much for me,” Rhyse lied. “So today’s laundry day.”

“Your clothes, too?”


His roommate’s nose twitched a bit. “What’s that smell?”

Rhyse shook his head. “I dunno, man,” he said. “I think I might’ve left something out and it’s going bad or something.”

Sky nodded at that. He bought the lie. “Take some Febreeze or something. It smells gross.”

“Good idea!” Rhyse reached into the cabinet where all the cleaning supplies were just above and went brushed by Sky on his way to his room. Shutting the door behind him and locking it, Rhyse didn’t scrub his mattress as much as he drowned it in fabric safe perfume.

“I just had too much to drink,” Rhyse told himself. “That’s it. I got shitfaced wasted and and…” he desperately didn’t want to finish that thought: ‘…had an accident,’ didn’t sound particularly good. Nor did ‘I peed the bed’. “I do not have the Baby Virus. I am not a Bee-Vee.”

It’s a known psychological fact that a lie repeated often enough and loudly enough will become truth in a person’s eye. Sadly, the span of a day cleaning washing sheets and doing laundry as an alibi was not nearly long or loud enough to embed it.

The shower he took was not enough to erase the nagging fear in the back of his mind that baby wipes might be replacing hot water in his near future. It hadn’t even occured to him that Sky didn’t seem even a bit perturbed that he’d been naked.

“Hello little one,” the giant came back into Rhyse’s dreams. “Are you ready to go back to the water and float for a while? Take my hand.”

Rhyse reached up and felt the warm comforting hand of the giant grasp his.

The wind rustled through the tall grass. “We’re closer to the river this time, little buddy. Let’s take five normal steps. Can you count down for me?”

Rhyse knew he could. “Five…four…three…two…one…”

“Good boy,” They were back at the gentle babbling brook. “Ready for three baby steps to get into the river?”

Rhyse quietly nodded, and spoke. “Three…two…one…”

The giant squeezed and patted his hand. “Good boy. You didn’t even need me to tell you what to do. You’re super smart.” Rhyse liked being told he was smart. “Do you know what to do next? Just relaaaaaax.”

Rhyse didn’t frown. Barely hesitated at all. He just relaxed and felt the warm stream spread below his waist as he floated gently in the water.

“Good boy.” Another squeeze. Another hand pat. “Tomorrow night, we’ll start here, and see if you can relax on your own. And if you do, I’ll give you a special surprise. But don’t worry about that now. Just enjoy the nice, warm wet feeling of the water. Just relaaaaaaax.”

“Doing laundry again?” Sky asked when he caught Rhyse stuffing his sheet into the washing machine. He wasn’t naked this time, and had thought to pull on a dry pair of basketball shorts, but he still reeked of old pee.

Sky had purposefully put himself in the bathroom just in case Rhyse had wanted to hose off before destroying the evidence.

“No!” Rhyse sounded like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Why are you washing your sheets?” And with some grim satisfaction, Sky added in, “And what is that smell?”

Rhyse’s eyes darted like a trapped animal looking for a way out. “I….I…” Holy crud, the guy was starting to tear up.

Sky decided to give him a way out. If he was pressured into this too quickly, he’d break instead of bend. And if he broke, he’d just put himself back together in a couple of days, according to all the chatter and tips on discord. “Did you not dry your sheets enough?”


“Did you not dry your sheets enough?” Sky repeated. “Sometimes if clothes and sheets aren’t dried enough, they get all gross and mildewy. Ya gotta wash ‘em all over again and dry ‘em good.”

“Oh yeah…” Rhyse seemed relieved. “Yeah. That’s it. That’s it. “ He looked at Sky. “Uh…bathroom free?”

Sky couldn’t help himself. “For now…”


“Yeah, it’s open. Taking another morning shower?”


Sky didn’t comment further. Just went back to his bedroom to brag to his new friends on discord and check on the orders he’d placed.

The babbling brook filled Rhyse’s ears. He was close now. “Hello, little one,” the giant said. “Do you remember what to do?”

Rhyse did. He took a deep breath, and took three little baby steps so he could get into the water, waist deep. “Three…two…one…” He relaaaaaaaaxed.

“Good boy,” the giant praised him. Rhyse felt his hand squeezed and patted again. He liked it. It made him feel secure and safe. He was alright as long as the giant was there to protect him.

“Very good. Very good,” the giant whispered. “It’s time for your present. I’ve given you a magical power,” the giant said. “The power of happiness. Every time I’ve held your hand and given it a pat, I’ve put a little bit of happiness into it. It’s glowing now.”

Rhyse felt the hand the giant was holding warming up, and when he looked up from the water, he saw little bits of light streaming out between the giant’s fingers. “You see it glowing, don’t you?


“Good boy. I’m going to let go of your hand now, don’t be afraid.” Rhyse wasn’t. His entire palm was a torch once the giant released it. “Now I want you to take allllll of that happiness and pack it up. Condense it. Squish it all up so that it becomes super concentrated. Take all of that happiness in your hand, and squish it inside your thumb. Make it so only your thumb is glowing.”

Rhyse focused and focused. Slowly, he could see the light moving from the palm of his hand and his other fingers, and oozing and scrunching until there was just a single bright beacon, a blinding point of light right in this thumb.

“Is it there yet? Is the happiness all in your thumb?”

“Nnnnhnnn…” That was the best part of these times, the hardest thing Rhyse had to do was count backwards. No other talking was needed.

“Good boy.” The giant kept whispering to him. “This happiness in your thumb is a special kind of happiness; a gentle calming type of happiness. When you use this happiness, instead of feeling angry, or scared, or nervous, you’ll feel calm and happy. Just like you do now when you’re floating in the nice warm water. Doesn’t that sound nice?”


“And all you have to do to feel this way, is to get this happiness in your body. All you have to do is stick your thumb inside your mouth- like a lollipop-…”


“Yes, little buddy, or a joint. Just stick your thumb in your mouth, and suck. You’ll feel relaxed and calm, just like you do now.” Without prompting, Rhyse gave it a try. Laying there in the warm water, he took his thumb and stuck it in his mouth. Calm and tranquility filled him as he started to suck. So peaceful. Not a care in the world. It felt nice. So relaaaaaxing.

“Thaaaaat’s right.” The giant could hold Rhyse’s hand and so instead petted the boy’s hair. He felt like such a little boy compared to this big, friendly helper who’d found him; but it was a good feeling. “From now on,” the giant whispered, “whenever you feel nervous or scared or angry, I want you to suck on your thumb so you can calm down and be happy again. Can you do that for me?”

Rhyse nodded. “Nnnnhnnn…”

The giant patted him on the forehead again. “Good boy. Now take your thumb out right now. You don’t need it right now. Save it for when you need it.”

“Rhyse?” Rhyse continued dozing. “Rhyse?!” He rolled over, not even realizing how cold and sticky his legs were. If anything, he was starting to get used to it. “RHYSE!”

Rhyse’s eyes fluttered open. Standing over Rhyse, Sky was glaring with his arms crossed over his chest. “Huh?” Rhyse mumbled.

“You wet the bed.”

The stoner almost jumped out of his skin, but barring that he settled for the other side of his mattress. “FUCK! NOT AGAIN!”

Sky was shaking his head. “You’ve got it, dude. You’re infected.”

Rhyse looked up from his piss stained mattress and back up to his roommate. “What? Infected? No I’m not.”

Sky was still shaking his head. He seemed a little sad. “You just said ‘again’, bro. You’re doin’ it. You’re regressing. You’ve got the virus. You’re turning into a Bee-Vee.”

Rhyse could hear his pulse in his ears. “NO I’M NOT!”

His roommate didn’t yell back. “Should’ve seen it coming, honestly.”


“The lack of bathing. Making all the mess. Now bedwetting.” Sky was just ignoring Rhyse, talking more to himself than to anyone else. “It all adds up.” He let out a sigh. “Sorry, man. I’ll call you an ambulance.”



Ambulance meant hospital. Hospital meant going into a giant nursery! If he went to the hospital, he might not come back out! “NO! NO! JUST NO! FUCK THAT!”

Sky looked nonplussed. “Tantrums, too?” He took a step back and covered his mouth.

Rhyse panicked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “I’m not throwing a tantrum…I did wet the bed…but that’s cuz of…of…” Fuck. Why did people normally wet the bed. “…stress!”

“You’re wetting the bed because of stress?”

“YES!” A single look from Sky made Rhyse instinctively hunch down, as if that would quiet himself. Rhyse’s thumb started to feel funny. His lips started to tingle. It was a low humming feeling that progressed into an itch.

“What about your clothes?”

It felt almost as if his thumb was calling out to him. “I washed those,” Rhyse said.

“And the mess?” Sky asked. “Your garbage all around the house?” Rhyse’s lips and thumb were throbbing; pulsing for each other.

It was taking everything for Rhyse to not pucker his lips. “I’m just a slob.”

“Not before the quarantine you weren’t,” Sky pointed out. “Not this bad.”

Even though his legs had been basted in his own pee, Rhyse dropped to his knees. “Please, let me prove it. I’ll clean up the mess! Just don’t call an ambulance!”

Sky paused and looked down at Rhyse for a good long, uncomfortable time. “Fine,” he said. “You can prove it. Clean up the house.”

Rhyse got up off his knees. “Can I take a shower, first?”

His roommate smiled, incredulously. “Of course. Why are you asking permission?”

“I don’t know…”

Sitting down in the shower, hidden in hot steam, Rhyse cried to himself. He was turning into a Bee-Vee. He knew it. He let the rushing water muffle his quiet sobs. The coolness of the tile contrasted with the scalding temperature of the water. He’d used what felt like half a bottle of body wash, and he still felt dirty.

What was he going to do? Was he going to recover or was he going to turn into one of those permanent Bee-Vees? Was this going to be a kind of bummer, or was he going to end up in a giant nursery for the rest of his life?

He didn’t know what to do. Quickly, and without thinking, he slipped his thumb into his mouth and began to suck gently on it.


Not perfect. But better.

Surprisingly, it calmed him down. Alot. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself. “I can do this.”

As he muttered words of encouragement to himself, Rhyse barely registered, the muted sound of the doorbell being run. What was being delivered?! He hadn’t ordered anything. The grocery delivery wasn’t until tomorrow! Was it an ambulance?! Had Sky gone back on his promise? Another few pulls on his thumb helped him calm down and forget about it.

“Are you done, yet?” Sky called from his bedroom.

Rhyse picked up another bottle and put it in the garbage bag. “Almost!”

Sky walked out and surveyed the work. There were garbage bags everywhere, but they were full and tied off. Nary a piece of garbage was in sight He nodded his approval. “Okay,” he said. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Rhyse exhaled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sky agreed. “You’re not done yet, but you’re getting there.”

Rhyse frowned. Getting there? “What else do I have to do?”

“You can’t just leave all the garbage bags lying around, little buddy. That’s not cleaning up. You’ve gotta take them outside to the garbage cans. And there’s still the dishes to do.”

A strange sense of familiarity shot through Rhyse’s backbrain. “What did you say?”

“I said you can’t just leave all the garbage bags lying around, bud.”

Rhyse chewed on the sides of his tongue. That wasn’t quite right, but he wasn’t a stenographer or nothing. Probably just a turn of phrase. His thumb was throbbing again. Sky seemed to notice that something was wrong. “Hey,” he offered, “why don’t you take a break?”

“Yeah?” Rhyse asked?

“Yeah. Go take a rest. Relax for a few minutes.”


Without thinking, Rhyse closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let go. It was a full five seconds before he realizes that the puddle forming at his feet was coming from him. “AAAAAH!”

Sky’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re peeing!”

“I know!” Rhyse


“I CAN’T!”

Sky reached out his hand and Rhyse met him half way, taking it and allowing himself to be led to the bathroom, leaving a trail of pee-pee behind him. There was something oddly familiar about holding Sky’s hand, but in his panic, Rhyse couldn’t consciously recognize it. Without hesitation, without waiting to ask, Sky positioned Rhyse in front of the toilet and pulled down his pants. “Sit.”

Rhyse did. For his trouble.

“Wait here.”

Feeling stuck on the toilet, Rhyse sat there, quietly sucking his thumb for several minutes to hold the terror at bay. He yanked it out the moment he heard Sky’s approaching footsteps. When he saw what his roommate was holding, he desperately wished he hadn’t.

“Is that a…a…a…?”

Sky just rolled his eyes. “Yes. It’s a diaper. I ordered some shipped from the pharmacy.”

Rhyse gulped and felt his throat go dry. “Drug store diapers don’t have cartoon racoons on the waistband.”

Sky frowned, and then examined the incontinence garment more closer. “Heh. So it does. Makes sense,” he shrugged. “There’s been such a run on medical diapers lately that only these big baby ones are left. No big deal.”

“I am not putting that on.”

“Fine,” Sky said. “It’s not a pull-on anyways. I’ll put it on for you.”

Rhyse was off the toilet in a flash, his back against the bathroom wall. “I’m NOT wearing that thing. Only Bee-Vees wear those things!” His roommate’s arms went limp.

“So let me get this straight. You’ve been peeing the bed, staining your mattress and stinking up your room. You just peed your pants right in front of me. I just spent the last five minutes cleaning up your pee-pee accident.” Sky looked over into the toilet. “Didn’t even get a dribble in. And now you’re throwing a tantrum because you don’t like the style of diaper I found for you? Yeah…that doesn’t sound like you’re regressing at all…”

Rhyse didn’t know what to say. When it was put like that… He looked over and grabbed a couple of wet wipes that were left next to the toilet. Wet wipes. Flushable. Not for babies or Bee-Vees… Quickly, he scrubbed himself down, as Sky watched. Not trying to move past sky, he threw them in the bowl and flushed.

Then he laid down on the floor, letting the fluffy bath mat give him some measure of comfort. “Put it on me.”

The rest of the day went without incident. The house was cleaned and the dishes were done, and something besides the smell of grease and B.O. wafted through the air conditioned halls of the little two bedroom house.

Sky had been pretty cool about it too. “Wear it just in case,” he said. “If you need to go to the bathroom, go to the bathroom. I’m not forcing you to wear them.” This despite the fact that he literally had, more or less. But was it really so unreasonable? “I just don’t want to have to clean up after you all the time. That’s fair.” Rhyse supposed it was.

They’d only butted heads once more regarding the diaper situation that day. The first time Rhyse had tried to toddle off to the bathroom, he’d found Sky grabbing his hand.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta pee. And not in this.” Rhyse pointed to the raccoon peeking out from just above his penis.

“How badly do you gotta pee?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Those tapes are sticky,” Sky said, “but only the first time. I don’t want you running out of diapers when you actually need them, just because you managed to make it to the potty on time.”

“I’m not going to pee myself on purpose.” Rhyse’s pouty lip was desperate for his thumb.

“So you want me to waste money? On something I bought? For you?” Rhyse didn’t have a counter for that. Sky squeezed his hand again and gave it a pat. “Just hold it a little longer. Pretend you’re on a car trip or we’re conserving water. Wait until you’re about to burst before you do it.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.” And so he had. The racoon diaper was switched out for a giraffe one and all was well.

The rest of the day was comparatively easy. With the cleaning done, Rhyse rested and surfed the net, purposefully avoiding social media. It seemed almost everyone he knew had SOMEONE else in diapers at their home who was far above the age of two. And this time it was happening to him.

After dark, knock came on his door. “I baked cookies,” Sky said. “As a way of saying thank you.”

“Chocolate chip!” Rhyse almost shouted. “My favorite!” He wolfed down three before he’d taken a breath. Sky looked at him, smirking. “Oh…” Rhyse said, correcting himself. “Where are my manners? Thanks for the cookies.”

“You’re welcome,” Sky replied. He looked at Rhyse’s computer. “What have you been up to?”

Rhyse shrugged. “Nothin’ much. Y’know. Relaxing. Watching youtube. Playing MTGA. That kinda stuff.” A strange look came over him as he felt the front of his diaper getting warmer. As though his bladder were detached from the rest of his brain, Rhyse made himself look down between his legs and watch as his diaper swell and discolor. If he hadn’t been looking, he might not have noticed. In a strange way, it felt kind of nice, the way the garment held everything in place instead of letting it trickle down his thighs. But in watching it, Rhyse had been forced to admit himself that he’d done it again.

“I…I gotta go change.”

Sky didn’t seem that bothered by it. “Okay, bud. Go change.”

As Rhyse struggled to wipe himself down and figure out how to put a new diaper on himself, he didn’t notice Sky’s shit eating grin.

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?”


“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?”


“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?”


“You seem like you’re in a zone.”


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?”


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?


“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.



I’m just slowly coming back and uploading my stuff from patreon, so that I’ve got similar content across platforms.

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Thank you!

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Love the surprise twist at the end. :+1::grin:


Thank you.

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Dang good story. Love the plot twist. Would love to see if there is a sequel or more. Sad that the story is done.

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I loved your story I just loved it, you are a great writer and I would like more stories like this congratulations a hug from Brazil to you

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