Past Reflections of Future Visions


Fever and Jennifer Loriane

January 8th 1999, towards Sundown,

Mark sat up and looked through the bars of his former crib in confusion for a moment before he looked down at his suddenly naked body that rested on the crib mattress that had fallen through to the floor. The tapes of the disposable baby diaper that he had been wearing had given way under the stress of his enlarging body and lay soggily beneath him. Amanda came over to the side of the crib and dropped the side of the crib so she could help Mark out of the wreckage of the crib.

"Amanda," he began to say, "What happened…"

"I’m not Amanda, I’m Kimberly!", the psyche that inhabited Amanda’s body exclaimed.

Mark looked puzzled for a moment, then said, "If you’re Kimberly, then who’s that in the crib over there?"

They turned to look at the body of baby Kimmie, who was sitting up on the mattress of her crib staring at her fat little baby fingers in amazed confusion. Kimberly looked at Mark and pointed to the baby girl in the intact crib, saying with the flat assurance of absolute certainty, "That’s Amanda."

Amanda looked up from her crib foggily at the sound of her name, thus confirming Kimberly’s explanation. The memories of her last moments as an adult had vanished from her mind. Somehow during her escape from Lilith’s reach, she and Kimberly had swapped bodies.

As the realization of what had happened to her slowly became apparent to the sluggish deductive powers of her infant’s brain, Amanda’s baby face clouded over in horror and she began to cry. She had transferred personalities with her baby girl and had inadvertently trapped herself in the infant’s body which she occupied. Although Amanda still had the knowledge of how to tap the power of the Universe, her tiny infant’s body could not produce enough "Chi" to effect any changes. Amanda, by her own actions to escape Lilith, had sealed her own fate. The reality pattern that Amanda’s personality had forced on Kimmie’s body was still in place. Amanda’s psychic energies had been effectively grounded, but the presence of her ego in Kimmie’s body kept the pattern from returning to its previous state as had Mark’s pattern. The developmentally-frozen matrix of the physiological pattern of Kimmie’s body would ensure that she would remain an infant until the day that she died.

"Oh, by the way, you seemed to have lost weight!", Kimberly observed quietly to Mark with a pleased smile.

"What?…But how?", Mark said as he gingerly extricated himself from the crib and examined himself. It was true! He could see his crouch again! Mark felt wonderful!

Kimberly’s knowledge of the game of "Mage" that she had acquired while studying the manual on the floor as an infant with Mark gave her the clue she needed to solve the puzzle. She looked into Mark’s eyes and summed up the change in Mark’s physiological pattern in two words; "Psychic backlash."

"Huh?", he answered uncomprehendingly.

Kimberly frowned at how dimly he perceived the miracle that had taken place before them and answered, "’Psychic backlash" is another expression of thermodynamic equilibrium." "Energies must balance," she explained in patient modulated tone of a Kindergarten teacher, "When my mother changed you into a baby, your patterns of energy were out-of-balance with the rest of the Universe."

"But why did I get slimmer? What happened to my fat?", he persisted in childlike confusion.

Kimberly sighed, it was going to take a long time for her to get used to Mark’s intellectual thick-headedness. She hoped his lack of percipience was only a lingering effect of his regression into infancy. Certainly, he had accepted his fate more readily than she had. If so, in a few days he might get over the experience. Her mother had told her often that men were truly infants at heart and being a baby might have had addled his wits temporally.

Otherwise, it might take a few years of being exposed to Kimberly’s analytical style of thinking before he could catch up with her. In the meantime, explaining anything to him would be like raising a small child. She answered him slowly and carefully so he wouldn’t miss any of the important points. "What happened when my mother dumped you?", she asked rhetorically, "You got depressed and turned to eating instead of seeking another girlfriend. Food became a substitute for sex, right?"

"Uh-huh", he answered dully.

"Don’t you see, Mark? Your obesity was caused by my mother! In other words, the pattern of her existence impinged on the pattern of your existence in such a way that you were harmed. Are you following me?", Kimberly asked like a teacher who was guiding a developmentally retarded student through a particularly difficult sequence of logical steps to arrive at a predetermined solution.

"Yeah…," he replied hesitantly.

"Okay," she said, summing up, "We’ve established that she hurt you with her pattern, right? And then she acquired her powers and used them to change your form beyond recognition, right? In other words, she turned you into a baby! Does that make sense?"

"Yes," he answered more confidently, feeling like he was beginning to get a glimmer of understanding where she was headed with her explanation.

"Good!," she said encouragingly, "Everything she had done to you was hurtful and had changed your pattern to make you miserable. So when her ability to hold the pattern in place vanished, your pattern snapped back not just to what it was before she changed you to a baby, but to what it would have been had she never harmed you at all. You see now? Your pattern has resumed its normal state without any of her bad influences."

"Ohhhhh, I get it! But what about her, why didn’t your old body change back?", he asked.

"Because her pattern retains the image of all the changes she ever made to everyone else’s pattern. The physiological pattern of infancy that she forced on me is a subset of her own pattern. Because the baby’s body is part of her own pattern, there was no initial state for the body to return to. She is herself. She, like everyone else, is what she made herself. She’s a baby, because her pattern holds the body pattern of an infant enfolded within itself. Don’t you see?", she asked a bit impatiently.

"Not really," he answered honestly.

Kimberly sighed and tried again, "Have you ever heard of what happens to ‘adopted’ children? Even though they don’t share any genes with their parents, after ten years or so, they begin to ‘look’ like their adoptive parents. Haven’t you ever wondered why that’s so?"

"I’ve never heard of it," Mark said defensively, wondering where the source of the fund of knowledge that Kimberly seemed to accessing was derived. Certainly she couldn’t have learned anything like what he was hearing in a High School.

"Well," she said, "It’s true nonetheless! Adoptive kid’s morphological and physiological patterns start to mimic their adoptive parents the minute they’re taken under the care and love of their new parents. Over a long enough period of time, they, in essence, take on the bodies that they would have if their adoptive parents had been their biological parents."

Understanding finally penetrated Mark’s regression-thickened wits and he said, "So the ‘normal’ pattern for her body is what she created for you when she regressed you and that’s why your old body is still a baby? But what about you? Surely you didn’t learn this in any High School class, how did you work this all out?"

Kimberly’s brows deepened as she remembered the moment of Truth when she was faced with a choice between ultimate Death and escape into the Hereafter. She answered as simply as she could, for someone who could never understand the arcane knowledge that she had received as a consequence of her total surrender of herself for others, "When I faced the…beast…with the knowledge that I was not only going to die, but I would lose my immortal soul,…some concepts of the way the Universe works became clear to me." She frowned and added, "If you don’t mind, please don’t ask me about the experience again. It’s something I’d rather forget, if you don’t mind."

"I understand your feelings," Mark said in the quiet tone of a promise of honor, "I won’t ever bring it up again." "But tell me, how come your vocabulary is so high-fallooten all of a sudden?", he inquired curiously.

Kimberly smiled as she explained, "When my mother displaced my soul, I had to find another body to inhabit or exit this reality. Hers was the only one available because her soul had severed the "silver cord" when she abandoned her body to destruction by the Goddess. Memories are stored both in neurological dendritic structure of the brain as well as holographically in the interlacing psionic fields that constitute a soul. Because I’m I displaced soul, I have all my memories from the time before the transition encoded into the psionic fields that form my soul. In addition, I have access to all of my mother’s former physical reflexes, memories, and mental training that’s stored in the long term memory structures created by her hypocampus, just as she has access to mine," she answered.

"You mean she has all of your memories?", Mark asked.

"Yes, Sweetheart. Just as I have hers," she replied kindly, adding, "Don’t worry, I’m not a bit like my mother! And I intend to prove it to you this minute!"

Saying that, she pulled Mark’s head close and gave him an extravagantly erotic kiss on the mouth as she stroked Mark’s slim, firm-muscled, nude bottom and testicles with her right hand. Amanda saw the two of them holding each other and began to throw a red-faced, tight-fisted, screaming infant tantrum. "How dare they!", she thought, "Can’t they see what’s happened to me? I’ll not have my daughter touching my ex-boyfriend that way!"

Kimberly and Mark looked at Amanda in astonishment for a moment, then they began to chuckle in hysterical relief. As the chuckles grew to gales of happy laughter, they put their arms around each other for support as they slowly sank to the floor in merriment.

Amanda screamed loudly, exhorting the couple to stop, but she rapidly discovered that she was physically incapable of forming the words that her brain was futile commanding her infant vocal organs to speak. Her fury added to her plight; her rage tongue-tied her, causing her to loose what little control that she had. In the end, all that came out of her mouth were the frustrated, angry, high-pitched squeals of nearly consonantless voweled "uuga’s", "noba’s" and "paa’s" of early infancy. Meanwhile, the battery-driven mobile that hung above the head of the baby girl’s head went around and around in Karmic mockery of Amanda’s Kismet. Kimberly took Mark’s chin in her hand and gave him the deepest, most passionate French kiss he had ever had in his life. Mark’s adult male body responded as expected and soon the two of them were rolling around on the nursery floor in a frenzy of intimate jubilation as they celebrated of their freedom from the prison of infancy in a particularly adult fashion.

Amanda jumped up and down on the mattress of her crib at the side rail in a fit of jealousy as the two adults kissed and groped each other in the wild abandon of utter joy and erotic stimulation. As they rolled on the floor in front of the crib, Mark hastily undressed Kimberly and eagerly helped her disrobe with ill-practiced, thumb-fingeredness. Once Kimberly joined Mark in nudity, the two of them vigorously formed a lasting bond of Eros whilst copulating on the carpet.

Amanda was furious! She sat down before the side of the crib and stuck her tiny legs out between the rails. As she watched, she beat her baby heels of her little feet against the crib side in rage while Kimberly and Mark made wild love on the carpet in front of her. She was the very picture of ridiculous infantine anger in her impotency. Futilely, she tried to stop her daughter’s and former boyfriend’s activities by screeching her fury at the top of her infant lungs.

Since Amanda’s screaming was only an incomprehensible wail of a distressed infant, it did nothing to deter the lovers on the floor in front of her, nor did the manner of her garb lend her opinions any credence. Amanda was clad solely in a white plastic-covered, thick infant loincloth which discreetly covered the only remaining feminine sexual traits of note that she had "inherited" from her daughter as a consequence of their mutual transmigration of souls into each other’s bodies, i.e., Kimmie’s hairless pubes and the soft, rounded bottom of her infancy.

To make matters even more deplorable, in Amanda’s view, the area immediately between her legs was filled with drooping disposable diaper’s soft clay-like bulge as it hung heavily from the supporting pelvis of her hips. Every time she moved her legs, she felt horribly warm and…squishy!

Sometime during the battle of Goddesses that had ensued previously, the well-padded, gel-filled, disposable nightime diaper in which she had ensconced Kimmie earlier that night had become extremely wet and soggy. The high-tech diaper’s protective lining protected the skin of Amanda’s new body from direct contact with the urine Kimmie had voided earlier, but the gel had nearly reached it’s saturation point. This caused the nether-reaches of the diaper to balloon down and out as the gel beneath her pubes expanded to absorb the flood of baby pee that Kimmie had excitedly excreted in a paroxysm of panic during the fight. The result was a diaper that bulged so prominently and mushily, that there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind what the baby girl had done in her diaper.

Amanda looked down upon the outward swelling of the bottom front of her diaper with disgust; the diaper’s soggy condition made her look absolutely helpless and infantine. She screamed her anger again, but to no avail. The two lovers were so engrossed with each other’s passions and their own pleasures that they never noticed the baby girl’s howls of heated anger.

As the carnal moans of the two adults became sighs of sexual repletion, Amanda’s demands for attention muted to a sulky, self-pitying silence. Mark bent down and kissed Kimberly lightly on the lips before murmuring, "Thank you, Kimberly…"

Kimberly put her forefinger to his lips to silence him as she said, "No, Darling, thank you! Your plan saved both of us! Let’s get up and start cleaning up the house. When we get about half done, I’ll take the car and go shopping for you!"

"Shopping?", Mark asked quizzically, "Can you drive?"

"Yes, Dear. I have access to all the long-term memories stored in her cerebrum as well as the upper cortical reflexes like driving a car. I can handle a car as if I’ve been driving for fifteen years. Don’t you understand, Mark! I have all of my mother’s memories of driving! Besides, I have my own memories as well. When I was sixteen, Amanda let me get a license and drive her car on occasion. Since I command her mind, it will be that much easier! Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself!", Amanda declared.

"But shopping for me? I don’t need anyone to shop for me," Mark declared independently.

"Yes, Dear. Shopping!", giving him an affectionate motherly peck on the cheek, "Haven’t you noticed? You’ve lost weight…A lot of weight! Your old clothes couldn’t possibly fit you! You’ve become so slim, you could almost wear Amanda’s, I mine my, clothes! But I wouldn’t let my masculine lover run around in dresses! No, I think I’ll get you some jeans and T-shirts to show off your muscles. Is that okay with you, Lover?"

Mark hugged her and quietly, "Of course, Dearest. Anything you want!"

Kimberly smiled and said with a sly grin, "Anything covers a lot, Lover! I think I’ll take you up on that tonight, when we go to bed!" She looked thoughtful and said, "There is one thing you could do for me…"

"Name it!", Mark demanded eagerly.

"I don’t think the name of Kimberly suits me anymore…I mean, since I’m in my mother’s body, it might cause confusion if anyone overheard you call me Kimberly. Since I have her body, I might as well take her name. From now on, call me Amanda!", Kimberly said.

Mark looked at the baby girl in the crib and said, pointing to the annoyed appearance of the baby who was attentively listening to everything the adults said in her presence while her eyes were fixed to the damnitable Barbie mobile that rotated above her head in mockery of the wealth and power she had given up for mere survival. "Amanda" gazed down at the helpless diapered baby girl in front of her and laughed brightly as she answered Mark’s unvoiced question by saying, "Her? Why she’s our little baby Kimmie! How could she be anything else?"

"Our?", Mark questioned.

"Yes, Dear! Ours! Don’t think for one moment that I’ll let my ‘Knight in Shining Armor’ go riding into the sunset without me. We’ll probably have to move to another town, but one way or the other, you’re going to marry me!", Amanda said.

"But,…but," Mark stammered.

"No buts, Darling! You’re going to marry me and that’s final! I’ve had a crush on you since I was a little girl. You got away from me once, but it’s not happening again! Do you hear me?", Amanda said in a mock threatening tone.

Mark sighed as he realized that the daughter was much like her mother in emotional makeup. Once her mother had made up her mind, the decision was final. It appeared that her daughter had the same strength of character. Given the circumstances, all he could do was surrender gracefully. "Amanda" would have her way, whether he willed it or no. "Yes, Dear," Mark said meekly.

"Good! Now that that’s settled, let’s get to work. This house is a wreck!", Amanda said.

Mark sniffed the air and asked, "What about Kimmie? I think she needs a diaper change."

Amanda cocked her head and looked at the sadly sagging diaper which hung wetly from her former mother’s hips and said with a wicked grin, "She does, does she? Well…She’ll have to wait until I get back from shopping. Amanda sniffed and said, "She’ll be okay! There’s a protective lining in the diaper to keep her from getting diaper rash just from wetting and she doesn’t smell poopy. We’ve got work to do and I haven’t time to waste on a very, very, naughty little baby girl. Besides, she needs to get used to the idea of sitting in wet diapers, there’ll be a lot of them in her future. I’m afraid that poor little Kimmie will never be potty-trained!"

"Why not?", Mark asked curiously.

Amanda smiled indulgently at her fiancée’s dimwittedness. It was obvious to her who was going to wear the pants in their family! Mark was so slow on the uptake that she’d never have any problems imposing her will on him. If Mark’s mental condition didn’t improve soon, he was going to find himself taking the lion’s share of little Kimmie’s midnight feedings and diaper changes. She smiled gently at him as she said, "Darling, I’ve already explained to you that she inhabits my ‘old’ body and why she’ll never grow up. Haven’t you considered the logical consequences of her ‘condition"? Lover, she’s going to stay the same age forever and someone has to take care of her! She’s what she made me, an infant. She needs to be fed, have her dirty bottom wiped when her diaper is changed, bathed daily and cuddled and loved like any infant. She’s a baby who will never grow older." Amanda sighed and said with a hint of loss, "It’s just as well, I’ll never be able to bear a baby of my own."

"Why not?", Mark inquired with the innocence of a child.

Amanda sighed and said reluctantly, "When my mother gave birth to me, there were problems during the delivery. Her reproductive system was...damaged. The doctors tied her tubes to insure that she’d never had another pregnancy in order to protect her health. Mom told me about it dozens of times when I was growing up to make me feel guilty. Since I have her body, I’m subject to her physical limitations. Like I said, I can never have a baby. Little Kimmie will be the only baby we ever have!"

"We could adopt!", Mark said hopefully.

"Mark, Dearest…You haven’t thought this through, have you? You’re just saying the first thing that pops into your mind to make me feel better. Have you given any consideration to what the adoption authorities might find out when they investigated us before the adoption?", Amanda asked.

"Noooo…I haven’t given it any thought. I just thought we’d go down to the adoption agency and fill out some forms. They don’t really investigate people, do they?", Mark asked guilelessly.

Amanda shook her head in disbelief. Mark was such an innocent! She told him, in the most loving and maternal tones she could manage, as if she was explaining a complex process to an inquisitive toddler she was babysitting, "Mark, there are a number of forms that must be filled out for adoption. But after the forms follows the investigation to find out if the prospective parents have lied. My mother ‘created’ a new birth certificate for me so she could put me in Daycare. She did the same for you. Can’t you understand, Darling, that yours and Kimmie’s birth certificates are forgeries? They may be perfect, but there’s no supporting records to validate Kimmie’s records. I’m absolutely positive that if someone looked closely enough, they would find discrepancies in your records as well. If my mother hadn’t been so lazy, she’d have modified the hospital and county records for me as well as you. But she didn’t and I don’t have her magickal powers to make the necessary changes. Moreover, what about Amanda’s supposed teenaged daughter Kimberly? If you recall, she told everyone she sent me to live with my aunt in West Texas. What if they ask for ‘Amanda’s sister’s" phone number so they can check on the status of Kimberly? What then? No, Dear. We can’t take the chance! We have to leave town immediately and little Kimmie here will be the only baby we ever have!"

"Ohhh, I see," Mark said as understanding came to him, "Well…I guess you have plenty of milk in your breasts for her feedings, Darling!"

"And for you too, Baby!", Amanda promised as she kissed her lover maternally on his cheek.

"Uhhh, yeah, that too, I guess..," Mark admitted with some embarrassment.

"Don’t be embarrassed!", Amanda said to comfort him as walked back to him and kissed him fondly on the cheek, "I know that I’ll enjoy it too. Now that you’re a man again, you can make love to me as many times a day as you want to!"

"Uhhh," Mark temporized while he thought of adult justifications for the infantile desires that still remained, "You really won’t mind terribly if I sucked at your breasts occasionally?", his face blushed beet-red in embarrassment as he admitted, "I…well…you know…I got so…turned on when I nursed at Amanda’s tits!"

"They’re my tits now!" Kimberly exclaimed defensively. Then she paused as she thought about his request and said, "I don’t know…" Amanda said coquettishly as she fluttered her eyelashes at him seductively, "How do you mean that? I have a baby daughter and I need a husband, not an infantile boyfriend who just wants to suckle my tits and get his diapers changed like a baby!"

Mark bowed his head in submission to the woman who would become his wife and said, "I think your mother cured me of ever wanting to be a baby again. The only diapers I want anything to do with will be helping you change baby ‘Kimmie’s’ dirty dydees. I want to be a man and take charge of my life! As to your boobs,…well…I can’t help that!…They look…so….attractive the way they are now! I’m sorry if my request offended you…I’ll leave here immediately."

Amanda grinned salaciously at his reply and answered quickly before she drove her prospective husband away by being too demanding at the outset, "No, no, no! I want my Knight in Shining Armor to stay at my side. I wanted you to tell me that you wanted to be the man in my life, that’s all! You don’t even have to work! I have enough money to last a dozen lifetimes. My poor tiny momma is a only a little baby now and left me in her body to manage the fortune she created with her magic. Your answer was perfect, Sweetiepie! I don’t mind if you suckle my tits! I want to nourish you with both my body and my soul! As far as the world is concerned, you and I will be husband and wife with a little baby girl that we love and adore. As long as I’m nursing, no one will be the wiser if you suck on my titties on occasion!

End of Chapter VII

Copyright 1999 by Fever and Jennifer Loraine, All rights reserved.

No commercial use allowed without the express permission of the authors.