At the time, Tabatha had the perfect life. A bright teenager, she did extra curricular activities at school and was co-captain of the high school cheerleading squad.
A beautiful brunette with perky breasts, Tabatha had a perfect butt that nicely filled the tight white panties underneath her golden cheerleading skirt. She started puberty early and every guy at the high school couldn’t help but stare with wide eyes when she walked down the hallway or spoke in front of class.
However, in a matter of weeks, life would take a drastic step back for Tabatha.
Throughout her childhood, Tabatha’s mother Marlene, a chemist at a local pharmaceutical plant, constantly brought home harmless items that had passed initial tests and could be used in the home.
The latest item, BrightTooth was one Marlene’s latest accomplishments. BrightTooth, a heavy green jell toothpaste, was almost guaranteed to keep teeth clean and cavity free for up to seven years.
Early Monday morning before school, Tabatha sifted through the medicine cabinet looking for toothpaste. Half asleep, she fumbled with the tube of BrightTooth, forcing out the green goop onto her brush.
It went on smooth at first, but the first thing that hit Tabatha’s senses was the sweet, bubblegum like taste. After brushing for five minutes she didn’t notice when she swallowed a bit of the goop. As far as she was concerned, the glob she put on her brush was like any other toothpaste.
“Come on Tabatha,” Marlene shouted upstairs to her daughter. “Your bus will be here any moment.”
“I know mother,” Tabatha said. “I’m just getting dressed.”
Slipping her cheerleading skirt over her tight golden panties, Tabatha took a glance in her bedroom mirror. She was proud of her curves and grabbed her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze before putting on a bra and her cheerleading top.
Hearing the bus near her house, Tabatha grabbed her book bag and headed to the front of the house.
“Have a nice day at school sweetheart,” Marlene said, giving her a kiss. “You’re still my precious little girl.”
After arriving at school, Tabatha took a seat in fourth period math class next to Rebecca, her best friend. Math was easy for Tabatha and her mind always seemed to wander during the class. This time her thoughts were a bit different.
As Mr. Samuleson went over the next set of algebra equations a haze came into Tabatha’s mind and the thoughts she was having simply took over. Tabatha was sitting on the floor of her kitchen playing with what appeared to be several pots and pans.
After a few moments, banging them together, she felt a slight tingle run up her spine, and suddenly had the urgent need to urinate. She tried and tried, but couldn’t stand up to walk to the bathroom. Her mother was busily readying diner at the stove when Tabatha struggled to get her mother’s attention. Trying to call out for her mother was a painful experience. She could however manage to mutter a few grunts, just enough to get Marlene to turn around.
“What’s the matter baby. Are you thirsty? Let me get you your ba ba,” she said, and grabbed a bottle filled with apple juice for Tabatha.
Confused at her state and her mother’s actions, Tabatha took the bottle and pushed it away, grunting a few times to try and get her mother to help her to the bathroom.
Tabatha again tried to get up off the kitchen floor to make a dash for the bathroom. But she was stuck to the floor. No matter how hard she tried, she could only sit next to a few pots and pans.
“Is my little girl hungry?” Marlene asked.
This time the pangs to urinate were at their strongest and Tabatha took her hands and firmly grabbed her crotch to stave the need to pee.
“Oh, you need to tinkle little girl.” Marlene said. “It’s ok darling, you can tinkle.”
Tabatha had no choice, but to relieve the pressure. With her mother staring down on her, Tabatha released a burst of pee and then a torrent came out. Thinking that she was going to leave a puddle on the floor, Tabatha looked down, only to see the front of her pants expanding. The golden torrent enveloped her butt in a warm glow as the padding she was wearing began to expand while it soaked up the urine she was expelling.
Tabatha looked up at her mother who did nothing but smile and shaker her head approvingly of her actions.
“Young lady, will you answer this question today.” Mr. Samuleson demanded, waking Tabatha out of her stupor.
Clearing her head she quickly answered the equation on the board and left the room to use the bathroom. What on earth was I daydreaming about, she asked herself.
Sensing something was wrong with Tabatha, Rebecca confronted her after class.
“Are you ok? You seemed a bit weird during class,” Rebecca said.
“Oh it’s nothing, I was just daydreaming, that’s all,” Tabatha said.
The rest of the day was uneventful for Tabatha, she attended cheerleading practice and got a good workout.
She took out the BrightTooth toothpaste and using the green goop, she brushed well before heading off to bed.
Tuesday morning Tabatha woke up and felt her cold and clammy sheets. For the first time since she could remember, she had wet the bed.
The thought of wetting the bed was embarrassing for Tabatha, who was known by her family and friends as a very self assured young woman. Quietly, she covered the wet stains, by making her bed, hoping that her mother wouldn’t see the mess contained beneath.
Slipping on a pair of purple underwear, Tabatha was surprised by how they fit so loosely against her skin. She purchased the underwear about three years ago and over time it became tight. “Maybe I’m loosing weight,” she thought to herself.
Looking in the mirror before putting on a pair of jeans, bra and shirt, Tabatha was surprised by what she saw. Staring back at her in that mirror was the reflection of what she thought was a sick person. Her muscle tones, once so womanly were somehow slightly diminished. Her breasts were slightly less noticeable and her hips and butt also seemed to look less toned.
For all intents and purposes, she was loosing her definition, the curves that made the boys in school stop and stare. “Wow, maybe I should go see a doctor,” she thought. “I must be getting a cold or flu or something.”
Tuesday came and passed with little fanfare. Rebecca stared at Tabatha during math class and thought her friend didn’t look right.
“Are you alright? You look tired or something,” Rebecca said in the hallway shortly after class.
“Oh, I think I’m coming down with something, that’s all,” Tabatha said while staring at the floor.
On the bus ride home, Tabatha’s mind was racing. Just exactly what was causing her illness? It never crossed her mind that the green toothpaste her mother brought home from the chemistry lab could have something to do with her appearance.
BrightTooth, a patented formula made from a combination of several chemicals, had passed the first round of testing on mice and was entering a second round on monkeys. Applied to the teeth of mice in massive amounts, caused no health problems, or so it appeared.
However the first phase of testing on monkeys, happening at another laboratory was showing different results. At first, the monkeys showed no signs of problems, but a day or two later and they began emptying their bladder more frequently. In day three and four, the monkeys began acting less mature and soon the researchers began to notice subtle changes in their body mass and measurements were taken.
In only a weeks time, an adult male monkey became the size of a prepubescent monkey. Within three weeks the monkey had lost all control of its bladder and bowels, showed little signs of maturity and was reduced to a helpless baby monkey.
After brushing her teeth, Tabatha went to sleep Tuesday night, thinking of what illness she may have contracted. Her thoughts wandered and soon she was in a deep sleep.
Wednesday morning Tabatha woke to a painful mess in her bed. She slept so soundly that this time the cold, clammy urine soaked sheets were accompanied by dead skin, finger nails and pubic hair. This was more than embarrassing now, this was terrifying, Tabatha thought. Taking off her nighttime panties, she looked down to see a clump of dark pubic hair stuck in the inner crevasse. Her privates had been almost denuded. She stared at the mirror and mouth fell open at the horror of seeing a prepubescent child of only 11 or 12 years old.
She shrunk slightly in her sleep, losing shape and proportion throughout her gorgeous body.
Her breasts, now almost entirely diminished, had deflated and all that really stood out was the pronounced darkened areola surrounding slightly engorged pink nipples of a girl just entering puberty.
After showering, she stepped down stairs and told her mother to call a doctor.
“Mom I need to see Dr. Danvers,” she said, bursting into tears.
“What’s wrong darling? What’s going on?” Marlene asked staring at her daughter.
“I’m having problems with … um … I’ve wet the bed twice this week and I feel awful,” Tabatha said, not wanting to tell all the details.
A strange look of concern came across Marlene’s face as she wondered how her daughter became so diminished so quickly. She remembered remarking last week that her daughter grew so tall, but now Tabatha somehow seemed reduced in size and much younger, almost helpless looking.
“Honey, I thought you were coming down something. Why don’t’ you stay home today. You’ll have the house all by yourself and I’ll set up an appointment to see Dr. Danvers in this afternoon,” Marlene said.
Wednesday was perhaps the longest day of the week for Tabatha. After eating a bowl of hot oatmeal in the morning, followed by a giant glass of orange juice and toast, she sat in front of the television to watch the morning talk shows.
But only an hour into her morning, she felt a twinge in her stomach and ran to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet for what seemed like hours as she released her bowels every few minutes into the waiting toilet. Copious amounts of poop came spewing out of her anus. Her stools were the consistency of diarrhea with a mixture of body fluids, breaking down from her muscle and skeletal mass.
What on earth is wrong with me, she thought. I’ve got to see the doctor soon, or there’s going to be nothing left of me.
Marlene came home from work early that day. She couldn’t make an appointment for Tabatha until Thursday afternoon.
Sorting through the dirty laundry, Marlene couldn’t help but stop and stare at Tabatha’s golden, white and pink panties. In addition to the smell of dried urine that caught her nose, the dark brown streaks that went up the back of the briefs caught her by surprise.
Oh dear, Tabatha must really be ill, she thought. She never makes a mess like this in her pants.
Marlene knocked on the bathroom door.
“Are you ok in there dear, you’ve been in there since I came home baby. What’s going on?” she asked.
“I can’t help it mom. I can’t stop going. Did you call Dr. Danvers?” Tabatha asked.
“He can’t see you until tomorrow afternoon,” Marlene said. “Until then we’ll have to make do.”
After her bowel movements seemed to back off, Tabatha, looking visibly drained, walked up stairs, brushed her teeth and went off to bed, not knowing exactly what the trip to Dr. Danvers would bring.
Thursday morning was a repeat of Wednesday, and this time, even more dead skin seemed to flake off different parts of her body, revealing smooth, reddish skin of an infant’s bottom.
The drive to Dr. Danvers office seemed like hours. To break the silence, Marlene tried to comfort her new little girl.
“Honey, I’m sure it’s just a passing problem and the doctor will be able to deal with it,” she said. “You know I’ll be here for you honey.”
Marlene, who had been going to Dr. Danver’s office since she was an infant, stepped into the tiny waiting room and sat next to Marlene, who had a clipboard and was writing down her daughters symptoms along with their health insurance information.
Tabatha looked across to the play area, where a box of young children’s toys laid strewn across the corner of the room. A strange, exciting feeling overtook her mind as she gazed at the Barbie dolls, stuffed animals and Little Golden Books.
A diapered toddler emerged from the examination area and ran over to the toys to begin playing, while his mother arranged payment. Tabatha watched as the boy began moving his hand to his face and slowly stuck his thumb in his mouth. Somehow it was all exciting to her.
After a thorough examination, Dr. Danvers looked at his clipboard and then at Tabatha and rubbed his forehead.
“I’m not sure what to make of your problem at this point,” he said.
“We’ll have blood test results back in the morning. Until then I suggest you get some protection so that Tabatha remains dry and clean at all times,” he said to Marlene.
“Protection?” Marlene asked.
“Well, this is all a bit unusual, but it’s not uncommon for some of my younger patients to have bladder or bowel problems,” he said. “Until we get to the bottom of this, perhaps some absorbent briefs will keep you dry at night.”
“Honey why don’t you wait out in the lobby while I talk to Dr. Danvers,” Marlene said to Tabatha.
After Tabatha left the room, Marlene asked for more details.
“Dr. Danver’s, one look at her and it looks like I’m going to raise toddler all over again,” she said
“This may be only a temporary condition. I’m afraid it could get worse before it gets any better. We’ll know more when the blood tests are complete,” Dr. Davners said.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “I’m not ready to be changing diapers again.”
The ride in the car to the pharmacy for “briefs” was a quiet one. Neither Marlene or Tabatha, who was ultimately embarrassed, said a word or even looked at each other.
Not wanting her daughter to feel even more embarrassed, Marlene ran inside and bought a package of adult diapers for her daughter.
For the first time in days, Tabatha woke to a dry bed. Instead she felt her urine soaked diaper clinging to her damp skin. Stepping out of bed, she waddled to the bathroom, hoping to quickly remove the rustling diaper from her body and take a quick shower.
Tabatha napped most of the day on the couch in front of the TV. She got up a few times to go to the bathroom.
At three in the afternoon, on one of her many trips to the toilet, Tabatha this time stared at her face in the mirror. Staring back at her was her face, a face when she had been nine or ten. She opened her mouth to check her teeth and saw multiple gaps in her rear teeth dentition. That’s when she got the realization that she wasn't just shirking, her body was regressing.
Tabatha ran to her room jumped in bed and pulled the covers over her head. She was supposed to call her mother to find out her test results, but it was too much trouble. Besides, she didn't want to see anyone right now. She wanted to be by herself and would likely have to get up to move her bowels in a few minutes anyway.
Marlene got home around five o’clock and prepared dinner. The two of them would sit and talk about the results of the test, she thought. A little while later Marlene called her daughter to the table and the two were eating.
“Honey, Dr. Danvers said your blood test came back negative, meaning there’s no problems physically with you,” she said. “Are you doing drugs?”
“Mom!” Tabatha shouted. “Then we need to see another doctor!”
She stormed out of the kitchen and ran to her room. By 8, Tabatha had fallen asleep on her bed. Marlene woke her daughter and told her to put on her protection.
If the week was bad, Saturday and Sunday were even worse for Tabatha, who was loosing control of her life. Her mother was almost sure she was taking drugs and her friends, who used to drop by every morning, were told not to stop by this weekend by Marlene, who intercepted their phone calls and told them that Tabatha had been grounded.
After helping her daughter clean up two accidents in her pants on Saturday, Sunday morning Marlene decided to have a little talk.
“Honey, your problem seems to be getting worse and I can’t have you going around messing up the furniture, I just can’t,” she said. “Starting this instant I want you to wear protection.”
“But MOM!” Tabatha protested. She was being forcibly put into diapers. The feeling of embarrassment and humiliation overtook her mind.
“No buts. I’m not sure what your problem is, but if you’re taking drugs, may all of this be a lesson,” Marlene said.
“I’M NOT!” Tabatha screamed and ran off in tears to her room.
Monday morning, Tabatha woke up to another soaked diaper, after a night of confusing dreams. BrightTooth was still working on her insides, turning her bladder and anal muscles into mush and now was knocking around in her brain, beginning to work on her nervous system, to turn off the tell-tale bathroom signs she learned during childhood.
Her dreams consisted of her being a toddler, enjoying playing games in a playpen and at one point sitting with her mother on the sidelines of a football game, well diapered, sucking her thumb as many of her friends performed a cheer for the home team. She remembered seeing her friend Rebecca point at her, wave and smile at her.
Marlene made her wear protection to school, and Tabatha didn’t have a problem with it, since she didn’t want to have any embarrassing accidents in front of her friends.
She tinkled in her protective briefs twice during school.
Standing in the hallway after third period class, Tabatha was talking to Rebecca about how she wasn’t feeling well, when she stopped her sentence short and her face turned slightly red.
“Tabatha, you ok?” Rebecca asked, putting her hand on her shoulder.
Tabatha couldn’t help but release a spurt of pee into her briefs and she soon feels a warm wetness spreading between her legs. She knows she is wetting her diaper uncontrollably like a baby.
“No, I’m ok. Just not feeling well,” she said.
It is also the first time the weak feeling occurred without any real panic, just a strange feeling of embarrassment and humiliation even though only she knew what was happening. She found that her expanding protective brief was quite preferable to having an accident in her pants.
On the bus Monday afternoon, Tabatha’s mind was now shifting from one thought to the next. At one minute, she felt a slight tingle in her bladder and released a spurt of pee into her waiting protective brief, now soggy and ready for a change. The next minute, she felt a shudder up her spine as her bowels felt like they were going to explode at any moment.
It was only two blocks away from her house. The bus felt like it was crawling up the hill toward her bus stop. Just a few more seconds and it would be there.
The bus stopped and the sound of the air breaks burst as Tabatha quickly got her book bag and made her way out the bus. Clinching her fists as she bore down to keep her anus as tight as she could, she felt a twinge and a tiny fart make its way out her ass. This time, however she wasn’t going to make it. The tiny fart was accompanied by a spurt of liquid poop and followed by a loosening brapp as a load of warm ooze began filling the seat of her brief.
She stepped away from the bus and was relieved that no one noticed her dirty deed. Her face turned bright red for a moment, as she thought about what she just did. Her protective brief, was no longer for protection. It was the “d” word that she didn’t want to mutter. Tabatha was wearing a “diaper.” It was doing it’s job, holding a massive amount of warm poop from the fiber, weight and water mass that was reducing her size and shape.
Tabatha, once a teenage hottie was being reduced to a helpless toddler, spending her afternoons waddling home with hot shit pressing up against her behind. Her ass wreaked as the load she was carrying shifted with each step she was taking.
She struggled to control her thoughts as her mind wandered once again and began thinking about the idea of being in her diapers, day in and day out, sitting in her own shit and piss. She felt a tingling sensation at the thought of spending long afternoons at home filling her diaper with a giant load of poop. Soon this cheerleader would be sitting in front of a television watching cartoons and helplessly grunting as she releases a burst of warm poop into her pants. Wallowing in her mess, she wouldn’t care because her mind would begin to conform to her body. Reduced to a diaper dependent toddler, soon her mother would have to tend to her needs.
She waddled home, hoping her mother wouldn’t be there to see her latest accident.
TO BE CONTINUED...