Who Wears the Pants - Part 9

by Jennifer Loraine

You heard me remark about his reflexes. Are you aware of what the reappearance of infantile reflexes implies? In a normal adult, such reactions would indicate severe brain damage. In his case, they're merely indicators that his neurophysiology is regressing to match the rest of his tissues. The neurological structures that were overlaid by learning in early childhood are disappearing and exposing the primitive reflexes of infancy. Neurologically speaking, there's very little difference between the gross anatomical structure of an adult brain and an infant's brain. The only real physical differences between the brains of children and adults are the microscopic neurological changes that are created as a consequence of the development of communication and locomotor skills, i.e., the dendritic interconnections between the neurons.

As you have probably noticed, Howard is losing or has already lost the neurological pathways that make his brain different from a normal infant's brain. In other words, he's well on his way to developing the mind of an infant. You've seen how he's behaved in the past week. He e hhas the emotional control of an eight-month-old infant. Even if he could still speak, he would still feel an almost overwhelming need to cry if he felt uncomfortable or frustrated. His cortical control over his emotions is shot. All he has left is the cognitive functions of recognition and reason. Believe me, at this rate, he won't have them much longer either. Without work or an adult interactions, he hasn't had a personal yardstick to measure his personality against. The shear lack of daily adult experiences have insured that his viewpoint would change. The boredom of a baby's existence guaranteed that his conscious mind would snatch at the crumbs of experience and force him to adapt to his surroundings. His adult memories may still be there, but it won't be long before he won't be able to make any contextual sense of them. How could he? A person's personality is ultimately defined by its contextual milieu and social contacts. That's how brainwashing works; all that's necessary is to destroy human's weltlichkeit is to make him helpless and dependent while redefining his relationship to the world. It doesn't take long for the subconscious to adapt to it's new surroundings. The will to survive under any condition is built into our genes. Little Bri-Bri isn't able to resist his genetic heritage. His instinct for survival is causing him to behave in the manner that brings him the things he needs. If he can't make verbal demands, he'll cry for attention. He's not part of the male-dominated "good old boy" power structure anymore. He's alone now and babies don't have male friends to reinforce their aggressive behavior. Men aren't part of babies' environments. The only adults that babies are exposed to are the women who take care of them. If he wants to make friends, he has to act coy and be as sweet and adorable as possible so that the women he's surrounded with will overlook his obvious deficiencies and react positively towards him. Women want babies who are cute and adorable. It's programmed into their DNA. Have you ever wondered why cartoon characters have such large eyes? Large eyes are the most recognizable facial characteristic of an infant. Cartoon creators want to insure that their creations capture the attention of their audiences. What better way than to appeal to the most basic instinct of humans than to subconsciously trigger parental attentiveness? And it's not just women who are affected, all humans are drawn to the wide, innocent look of big eyes. If you don't think men are affected by big eyes, think about how women use makeup to make their eyes look bigger! It's a subconscious attempt to get men to nurture and care for them as if they were helpless. It makes men feel good to be able to take care of dependent women in the same way that women enjoy taking care of babies. People want to feel protective and loving; it's built into the circuitry of the limbic brain. Why do you think that parents are so easily woken at night by a baby's cries? We're programmed by our DNA to react to a baby's cry by running to it's aid.

You're not immune to the effects of your DNA either. Have you noticed that you're reacting to him as if you're his mother? You are his mother, you know. I suspect that the adult attachment that you formed to the man you married has already begun to change into maternal love and concern for his welfare. You can't help yourself. He sees you differently too. You're the one who bathes him, changes his diapers, feeds him and tucks him in his crib at night. Who else but his mommy would do that for him? I'm sure he still loves you, but its in an entirely different way that he did two months ago. Babies don't see their mommies as sex objects. Mommies are the providers, the protectors, the source of all that a baby needs. There's no basis for equality in your relationship now. He's an infant and you're his mommy. He can't help seeing you that way and neither can you deny your maternal feelings toward him. Women and their infants are predisposed by nature to react positively to each other. I've seen women who've hated babies melt at the sight of their first baby. Once a woman has bonded with a baby, she's willing to forgive almost anything they do. Is it any wonder that most babies are charmers? Babies behave the way they do to secure their survival. They need women to care for them every minute of the day, so they expend a tremendous amount of energy insuring that their mommies think they're the cutest, most adorable creature that ever crawled at their feet. Why do you think that an ingratiating smile is one of the first facial expressions a baby learns? It takes a lot of charm to overcome the smell of a stinky diaper. Babies are experts at manipulating the maternal feelings of women. Howard did it when he was an infant and won't have any problem re-learning how it's done.

Look at him! He's a baby now, in every sense of the word. Have you noticed how he follows you with his eyes everywhere you go? My observers in the nursery tell me that he already evidences maternal separation syndrome when you leave him. He's becoming emotionally dependent on you as well as dependent on you to meet his physical needs. Have you noticed how much he seems to enjoy your touch when you change his diaper or hold him? His emotions have already begun regressing into infancy and his conscious mind won't be lagging far behind. The neural connections on the left side of his brain are reorganizing themselves into a condition approximating that of a pre-speech infant. My observers in the nursery tell me that he recently lost autonomic control of his epiglottis. If he's not burped immediately after a formula feeding, he spits up the contents of his stomach just like all the other infants in the nursery. He had already lost the ability to control his tongue and vocal apparatus sufficiently well enough to enable him to speak. This implies that the left front part of the brain called Broca's area and to a lesser extent, his cerebellum have begun to disassociate. His short term memory is rapidly failing and his long term memory is deteriorating almost as quickly. He'll soon lose the links with Wernicke's area in the rear of the brain. That region processes language and allows his mind to decode sounds to understand the meaning of words. When the links to those areas are gone, he'll have the normal aphasia of early infancy. Without the ability to use words to think, his reasoning powers will approximate those of an infant at the same developmental stage. His sensory perceptions will overshadow his primitive thinking in importance. Have you noticed how he's begun to put everything within reach into his mouth? The limbic area of the brain has begun to take control of his psyche. His sense of taste and smell have become as acute as an infant's while the importance his brain attaches to sights and sounds has declined. Don't get me wrong; his acoustical sense is sharper than it has been since he was an infant, it's just that his brain has reordered the priority of his sensory inputs. His psychosensorium is almost completely oral now. We can see from his behavior in the past few days that the limbification of his psyche is already well underway. Soon his emotions will be ruled by his need for physical comfort rather than by rational thought.

We've documented that his kinesthetic sense has also deteriorated. He can't tell with his eyes closed where his arms and legs are in relation to his body. While his tactile sense of warmth and cold have remained as well as his ability to discern the relative softness or hardness of a surface, he can't perceive whether he's wet or has dirtied his diaper. His ability to perceive muscular sensations and use them to control his lower body has become severely impaired. This explains why in the past week we have observed a marked predilection for creeping on all fours rather than to try to walk or stand.

My researchers have observed that his attention span has decreased dramatically within the past two weeks and is still declining. We haven't bothered to test his remaining cognitive verbal functions. It would only serve to reinforce and maintain the dendritic connections in the verbal areas of his brain. It's not as if we're here to rehabilitate him. My people are only interested in observing the deterioration of his locomotor skills and mental acuity. They told me yesterday that he had difficulty stacking blocks in towers more than three blocks high. That's a positive indication of the neurological regression of his higher mental functions into an infantile state. However, his loss of motor skills is not caused simply by the physical limitations of babyhood. He's losing his ability to concentrate and reason. We've discovered that he's already having difficulties enumerating groups of objects greater than five. By the way, a limit of five is the same approximate skill level of numeracy that's normal for a baby of eight months. By next week, I suspect that he'll begin to have difficulties making stacks of two blocks. At his current rate of mental deterioration, a baby rattle will be a fascinating enigma to him within a month, possibly less."

Fran laughed with an air of triumph as she declared, "Playing pattycake will be the absolute limit of his mental ability!" Her demeanor sobered a bit as she resumed her professional countenance. Nevertheless, she chuckled in feminine amusement as she said, "In the end, the high point of his day will be nursing and messing in his diaper afterwards. Speaking of nursing, you should be just about ready to give him his surprise." Howard whimpered at the thought of his future, knowing instinctively that the doctor was right. He felt an irresistible urge to suck his thumb even in the presence of the two women who had conspired to turn him into a permanent infant.

Anita favored the doctor with a feline smile and said, "I've been ready for over two weeks. I was just waiting for my promotion to give it to him. Somehow it seemed like the most appropriate way to celebrate our new relationship. I'm sure little Bri-Bri will enjoy his surprise immensely. Thank you for giving me the idea and helping me get the medications." "It was nothing," the doctor grinned, "It was the least I could do to see that my favorite mother and her darling baby are happy together. It will cement the bond between you and complete his emotional dependence on you. I think that the both of you will find it enjoyable. Of course, it's not the same as sex, but it has it's own pleasures..."

Anita looked down at the simpering infant in her arms and smiled maternally at his predicament. She dipped into her pocket and produced a pacifier to pop in his mouth. The adult speech of the women surrounding him lost all meaning as Howard's lips wrapped themselves around the pacifier and his cheeks began pulling at the nipple with suckling motions. Howard's anger flowed out of him with every movement of his lips. In a few moments, the pacifier had evaporated his rage. The soft cloth-like paper liner of the disposable diaper felt soooo comfortable. Howard snuggled against Anita, feeling warm and cozy against the warmth of her breast. He laid his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes. There was no sense in fighting it. Within minutes Anita's baby was fast asleep in his mother's arms. He was still sucking on the nipple unconsciously as Anita finished her discussion with the two women and took him back to the nursery. She nodded at the attendants and walked into the room marked with the colored cutout of a baby bottle with little Bri-Bri in her arms. She sat down in the rocking chair that the Daycare provided and made Bri-Bri comfortable in her arms before she removed the pacifier from his still suckling lips. Howard whimpered weakly at the loss of his soother and watched with huge eyes as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Anita reached inside her blouse and unfastened the special bra she had bought three weeks before when she had started the hormonal treatments in anticipation of this day. She cradled her enlarged breast in her hand and removed it from the confining fabric to present to her infant son. Howard squirmed in horror as her engorged aureola neared his face. Anita took her nipple and gently brushed it against his cheek in a millennia-old maneuver to entice a baby to nurse. His mouth opened involuntarily as his submerged rooting reflex surfaced and turned his head to meet the nurturing source. "She can't! Oh God no! Please no! Mmggg....mggmm..mmm," he thought as his tiny lips surrounded her nipple and drew the teat deep into his mouth.

Howard gulped in fear and revulsion as her nipple become fully erect in his mouth. The sensation that the nipple produced in him was entirely unlike anything he had experienced as an adult. Where was the carnal desire for her womanhood that he had felt the last time they made love? Instead of feeling a manful lust for the pleasures of her body, he felt a craving for her teat that had nothing to do with sex. "Please Anita! Please don't do this to me!", he thought in abject terror of losing his last link with adulthood. His tongue rose in his mouth as he swallowed and pressed her pap against his hard palate. All at once his mouth was filled with a warm, thin fluid that trickled down his throat. He swallowed again to clear his mouth and felt it fill with her ambrosial milk again. Within seconds, his infantilized reflexes took over and he began to root and suckle.

Howard suddenly realized where the infant formula had come from that she had been feeding him. The taste was exactly the same. He had been nursing her milk from baby bottles for two weeks without realizing he was drinking human milk. He shuddered slightly at the thought and peed a little in his diaper even as his cheeks greedily pulled her pap deeper into his mouth so his tongue could massage another delicious jet of warm milk from her nipple.

Thrills of pleasure ran up from Anita's crotch as her baby suckled himself on her turgid breasts. Tiny rivulets of milk ran from the corners of Bri-Bri's rosebud mouth as he gorged himself on her rich, sweet bounty. Memories of his early youth flashed so quickly through Bri-Bri's consciousness that he hardly noticed that his mind had passed beyond the age of ten months. The warm and fuzzy feeling he had felt at Anita's Sunday coffee klatch had returned with a vengeance, sweeping away his ability to reason before he could mount a defence. The light in his eyes faded and a blank look of innocence came over his face as the last vestiges of his intelligence were drowned in his mommy's gift to him. Anita stroked his hair affectionately as she watched him fill his little tummy and smiled in maternal triumph. The doctor told her that she could easily nurse him three to four times daily and she meant to seize every opportunity to nourish her child with her body. She had no intention of letting little Bri-Bri be a bottle-fed baby, she wanted him to be her sweet little titty baby for ever and ever. Anita had a sudden image of Howard as an insect that had been caught in infantile perfection and fixed in time before being pinned forever to her breast like a scientific exhibit on display. He had been the consummate specimen of American manhood; smelly, overgrown, irresponsible children with the colossal self-conceit to think that women drooled for the chance to wash their stained underwear and pickup after their messes like mothers trailing behind escaped toddlers running gaily amok through a just cleaned house. Now he was only a helpless infant; a charming bundle of needs who she'd pamper and cuddle throughout each day. His immaturity had been transformed from an irritating character defect into an ingratiating allure that bound him to her with chains of maternal love. She wouldn't abandon him; she'd keep him safe and warm forever. Three or four times a day she'd bundle his tiny infant body in fleecy baby blankets while she cradled him in her arms. Then she'd open her blouse to reveal a woman's greatest gift to her beloved child. While he suckled at her teats, his loins would be wrapped in soft, protective flannel diapers so the products of his incontinent behavior would be wicked away before they could cause harm.

After ten minutes, she switched his limp body over to her other breast and let him drain it too. Anita thought Bri-Bri's winsome expression of infantine gluttony was endearing. He made charming little animal noises as he fed; he whimpered in ecstatic delectation amid the slurping sucking sounds he made as he chewed toothlessly on her nipple. She delighted in the sight of his chubby little fingers kneading every last drop of her milk from her breast. When he slowed his feeding, she gently burped him and carried him back into the nursery as he slipped into a glutted peaceful slumber. She would return in a few hours for his next feeding. "I've won," she thought as she smiled victoriously over her former husband's infant body, "Bri-Bri will never be able to look at another woman's breasts wantonly again." Anita's breasts were no longer merely sexual objects to satisfy his chauvinistic carnal desires. Howard had discovered that a woman's teats were the ultimate source of comfort, food and life itself. His mommy's bosom had become the center of his universe. She laid him tenderly in an empty crib and nodded to one of the disguised researchers. She stopped and smiled at the dulcet expression on Howard's face as she left to take up her new job as Vice-President of Research. "Poor little Bri-Bri," she thought, shaking her head as she walked down the hall to her office, "He only wanted three things in life and he got everything he wished for: He won't have to seduce some poor secretary so he can get a little tiddy while he's at work. Everyone will love him now, smells and all. He'll be able to suck on a woman's tiddy whenever he wants without worrying about being caught in another woman's brasserie. He's safe from the police too! The police would never think of accusing a little baby of pollution. He can even go on making his precious stinks and no one will say a word. Everyone expects a baby to make smellies. Only now his messes are going to be confined to his diapers where they belong!" She smiled to herself as she thought, "I don't have to worry about leaving him alone with other women. I'm the only woman who matters in his life. When I come back he'll be waiting for me with open arms."

As she opened the door to her office, Anita chuckled to herself as she considered the bitter irony of Howard's chauvinistic statements, "Poor Howard, he always said that the only time a man had to listen to a woman's orders is when he was an babe in diapers. He couldn't stand the idea of letting a woman making decisions for him. He can't deny that he's only a diaper-wetting infant so I guess he'll have to listen to me now! It's too bad that he's lost the ability to understand adult speech. I wanted to tell him how naughty he was for running around on me like that. I guess I'll have to confine my scolding to 'No, no! Not for baby!' and 'Naughty baby!' from now on."

She mused to herself as she walked to her desk, "In a year, I'll be able to retire from this job to stay home and look after Howard full-time. Once he gets used to being a baby, he'll be okay. I'll see that he won't have to give up his beloved pants. Howard will still be the only one wearing the pants in the family! Skirts and aprons have always been good enough for me. I don't need pants to prop up a false sense of masculine importance. Of course Howard will have to content himself wearing the only pants that are appropriate for him now; plastic baby pants!"

She sat down before the computer on her desk and typed in the password to the file containing the acceptance speech for her promotion that she had begun a month before. It only needed some small revisions to be ready for delivery it to the assembled executives at the company. Anita scanned down the lines of the speech and chuckled as she re-read the quote from Marshall McLuhan at American Booksellers Association luncheon held in Washington, D.C in June of 1969. She recalled that she had been informed of Howard's infidelity by her private investigator immediately after she had made the addition to the file; "'Diaper backward spells repaid. Think about it." Anita remembered that she had thought about it for only a few minutes when Fran came in and made her request for another test subject. The quote and Fran's request had caused her to immediately change her plans for her divorce and consider a better, more satisfying requital for her philandering husband's unfaithfulness. Anita's strategy for justice had worked perfectly. She smiled as she typed, thinking of how complete her revenge had been. Even if he wanted to he couldn't run around on her. He could barely creep on all fours! He would never whisper sweet nothings in his mistress's ears again. If he wanted to flirt with a woman now, he'd have to gurgle and coo his endearments in hope that she'd ignore his soggy diapers and cradle him in her arms. Howard the philanderer was gone forever, only the little baby he left behind remained. When Howard awoke from his nap, he thought about her revenge too. For as long as he was able...

Announcement Delivered By the President of the Company at the Director's Meeting on August 5, 2011

At three forty-five Anita went to the Director's meeting and found her place next to the assembled executives on the elevated dais. She sat demurely in her chair on the rear of the platform as Dee made her entrance and mounted the step of the podium standing before their seats to begin her speech, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have momentous news, the formula has proved to be a success! Not only did the subjects regressed as we projected, but preliminary results indicate that neoplasms of all types are destroyed during the process of rejuvenation. Our Chief of Research, Fran, believes that the results are promising that the rejuvenation formula could be the magic bullet against cancer. Moreover, formula seems to have bactericidal, fungicidal , rickettsiacidal tubercularcidal and viruscidal properties. For those of you who are familiar with the formula's side effects, this explains why diarrhea accompanies the early phase of rejuvenation. Fortunately, the diarrhea seems to be a temporary effect. The E. coli flora in the gut are usually able to reestablish themselves after a few weeks. However, in the case of other organisms, the process of destroying and rebuilding healthy tissue is accompanied by a rejuvenation of the immune system. The researchers suspect that the formula might prove to be a panacea for the ills of man. In short, diseases such as AIDS could be treated by a short term regression to eliminate the vast majority of the infectious agents and to rebuild the immune system to take care of the balance of the infectious organisms. Given the pandemics that are raging in the third world countries, this could be the formula's most valuable use. The formula also has one side effect that has not been discussed outside of our laboratories; it reduces human fertility in both men and women. Although eggs can be harvested from women who have not received the formula, lab tests reveal that mammals given the formula have their fertility reduced by as much as eighty percent. The spermatozoa of men undergo a similar but not quite as drastic a population reduction. There is a further complication in the case of male fertility: once treated the spermatozoa become far more intolerant of local heat than they were before the treatment. I'm sure everyone here has heard of cases of men who have been temporarily rendered sterile by wearing over-tight pants. With our treatment, a man risks TOTAL sterilization if he chooses to dress in confining garments. A solution proposed by one of our researchers of Scots heritage, is to have the men so treated wear "regimental style" cotton kilts, i.e., kilts without confining underwear worn beneath. Once again, our marketing department is hard at work on a solution. It is probably known to less than five people in this room that the colors and styles used by industry in a particular year are pre-decided by a secret conclave of less than twenty people the year before. The Federal government is aware of this but has chosen to maintain a position of benign ignorance of the doings of this conclave. In the view of the Federal government, such decisions reduce waste and chaos in the marketplace while not "operating in constraint of trade". Essentially, the government views the conclave as a "facilitator" of the market place and chooses a laissez-faire position with respect to the conclave's existence. This is our opening; Ladies and Gentlemen, we plan to offer treatments to each member of the conclave gratis if they will support a single change to men's styles over the coming decade. In short, we will use them to influence the market to 'accept' the masculinity of kilts and sarongs as male attire.

Given the radical change in temperatures in the once temperate regions of the world, this should be readily accepted. Also, since the change in weather patterns has reduced the yield of cotton, linen, wool and silk crops substantially, the availability of natural fibers is at an all time low. Neither wool nor artificial fibers are an acceptable substitute at this time, although our materials chemists have hopes of developing a 'cool' man-made fiber. Actually, it's a moot point. No matter what fiber is chosen, the male garment must be made less confining and subject to heat buildup. The only practical solution is to convince men to wear dresses. Kilts, sarongs and dresses distribute heat evenly and allow more circulation of air. It's a matter of thermal engineering. I sure a few of the directors in the audience who have advertising experience are already thinking of possible ad campaigns to influence the public's attitude. Certainly, the image of a Scots warrior clad in a kilt with the tartan of his clan running up a hill pell-mell to attack an enemy position comes to mind. Alternatively, the image of a catamaran loaded with a full crew of heavily muscled Samoan's in short sarongs rowing through the Pacific surf to meet their voluptuous island lovelies on the beach is also a pleasing thought to the male mind. The historical aspects of the problem are also being explored. Virtually every culture has had a period in which men an women both wore some sort of kilt or sarong for rather obvious technological reasons; it doesn't take much technology to produce yard goods as opposed to finished, fitted garments. While we do not expect any real resistance to the change in Asia, Africa or the Pacific Islands, we are projecting heavy market resistance in areas that are primarily of European stock, Scotland excepted. However, we project that our three-pronged marketing plan will be successful over the long haul. This is one of the reasons we will begin our sales in Third World countries. A youthful, dynamic leader who chooses to dress in his country's traditional garb rather than mirror Western fashions will be respected rather than ridiculed. To further our objectives in the West, we plan to quietly support the multitude of Scottish societies that have sprung up all over America. Similar plans are being made to support Aztec heritage groups in an attempt to enlist the huge Hispanic community in the U.S. Since the majority of Anglo-Americans have Scots-Irish heritage, we feel confidant that they can be convinced that kilts are manly wear.

Once a man or woman is regressed, their probability of producing children is reduced drastically. After treatment with the formula, a normal woman will live a life of approximately three hundred years at the age selected, while a man's genetic inheritance will only allow him to live a one hundred and eighty years. Once the time for a particular individual has elapsed, the process of DNA/RNA replication breaks down catastrophically. In addition, the ability of the body's antioxidants to remove free radicals from the system is severely curtailed. The super-longevity pseudo-telomerease that we've created in our laboratories will begin to self-destruct and attack the telomeres on the chromosomes. At this point, metabolic toxins build up rapidly leading to renal failure. Within two weeks the absolute inability to form new proteins and the accelerating percentage of free radicals cause the affected individual to die. A normal woman would be able to have a child a year from ages thirteen to thirty-five, or approximately twenty two years of fecundity to produce a maximum of twenty two children. With the formula, the woman would be able to have from two to three children during her child bearing years of one hundred ten years. The population ratio of men to women will alter drastically in the next two hundred years. Our statisticians have forcasted that the percentage of men will drop to one half of the present level in that period. After that, there will be a gradual tapering of a population percentage over the following hundred years until less than one-eighth of the world's population will be male. After another one hundred years, we predict that less than one-thirty-second of the world's population will be male. The lack of male bodies to inculcate into the cult of soldiery will force the governments of countries to adopt peaceful solutions to their problems with their neighbors.

While this may seem to be a harsh tradeoff, the company's statisticians have calculated that the culling of the world's excess human population will have a salutary effect on the world's ecology. As the world's population declines to approximately one-third of its present level, the amount of real goods and land will remain constant. Our economists predict that this will cause a world-wide reduction in the price of goods and increase the price for labor on a global basis. The effects of the wage readjustments will be offset by the transfer of goods and capital to the survivors. Money will become cheap for a time as will land and investments. It is this capital that our company plans to tap. If ten percent of the available capital of the Third world falls into the company's coffers, we will become the most wealthy company in the world. Understand that this is not a naked grab for money. We are only trying to protect ourselves with the sole means that is legally available to a private corporation. We must survive! The very world's survival depends on our continued existence. The wealth the formula will create for the company will provide protection against hostile takeovers or inimical government action. If a government is foolish enough to try to nationalize our product, we will simply refuse to do business in that country. Public opinion will bring the government in question down in weeks. We have nothing to fear from politicians. We expect to sell millions of units of the formula before its properties become fully known. Once the anti-agathic and antibiotic properties of the formula become well known in the First World, the uncontrollable epidemics in First World countries will force the legislative bodies to revise their drug testing programs to allow their populations the same protection that the Third world countries have purchased from us.

Unfortunately, our staff sociologist expects a full scale assault on our formula from the radical fundamentalist groups and the Catholic Church. However, she projects that the attrition of their ranks due to disease and social pressure will mute their antagonism in a short time. Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the threshold of a new world. Our formula will change human history. Cultures that place a premium on fecundity will die, rational cultures will survive and be able to mature as experience is able to accumulate within their populations. Politicians will begin taking the long view of statesmen as they are forced to witness the disastrous effects of their short term policies. With the immediate reduction of great land armies through epidemic attrition of the military forces in question, large scale warfare will decline and largely disappear. Over the next hundred years, men will become too precious to lose on the battlefield. Criminality will decline as the short term reduction of family progeny in First World countries causes the value of children to rise and the tolerance of criminal element to fall. Prisons will disappear as a means of punishing career criminals when governments realize the savings that can be achieved by regressing dangerous criminals into infancy rather than support them for the balance of their lives. Our experiments have proved that a human who is regressed through puberty not only loses his sex drive, but immediately begins to assume the emotional and cognitive abilities of the age to which he is regressed. We are NOT creating evil dwarfs with this process, Ladies and Gentlemen, these will be 'real" infants who need to be cared for and nurtured like any other infant.

We have already begun preparations to market this idea to penal authorities. Our sales department will insure that state governments will discover that the market for selling fostering contracts to willing parents to care for the infantized criminals is tremendous. In a short time they will realize that criminals can be neutralized and cared for without the expenditure of public funds or taxes. Understand that we plan to take a fifty percent reduction in the per prisoner price of treatment in the public interest to solidify our political position. Bilking governments of taxes is NOT our goal! We are projecting a cost of ten thousand dollars per treatment for government treatment programs. Given an average cost of fifty thousand dollars per year per inmate for prisoner, our price will be a bargain. Actually, most states should be able to show a profit from the transformation. We project that the average couple will tire of caring for an infant who doesn't mature after approximately five years. Once the adoptive family relinquishes the unwanted "infant" into state custody, the state will be free to sell another fostering contract on the 'criminal' infant again. If the government regresses a male criminal with a life sentence at age twenty two, the resulting infant will have a salable lifetime of approximately one hundred and eighty years. We project that the average prisoner's contract will be sold thirty-six times. If the penal authority charges one thousand dollars for a five year contract, then the value of the prisoner's full market value as a leasable "state asset" will be three hundred and sixty percent of the state's initial investment in his treatment.

We expect that our support among the liberal elements of the populous will solidify as it becomes known that with the use of our formula, the death penalty need not be invoked to eliminate dangerous individuals from the population. Instead, killers will become helpless infants who are incapable of further crimes. This development will also increase our support among childless couples. Remember, no one except criminals will be forced to participate in our treatment and we have no intention of making the formula's decline in an individual's fertility secret from anyone. Our staff sociologist is projecting that the change in attitudes will cause governments to increase the penalties for crimes now punished by ten to twenty years of imprisonment. Once the savings in our treatment become evident to the general public, she projects that there will be a world wide impetus to penal conservatism. Terms in excess of seven to ten years are likely to changed into permanent regression into infancy. In short, ladies and gentlemen, the world's maximum security prisons will become temporary nurseries for the distribution of state "owned" infants. Terrorism will decline as longer lives become the norm and individuals become richer. Also, since the leaders of the sponsoring countries have more to lose, funding for terrorism will dry up. The romance of fighting the system will die. It's impossible to be viewed as a frightening specter of the 'people's vengeance' when the payment for your crimes against hum anity is to spend the rest of your life cooing and crawling at your enemies feet with a load in your dydee! The world will become more life-oriented and livable. Because of the reduced fecundity of women, their lives will become more valuable. Societies will become so short of workers that the option to put women in purdah will not be able to be exercised. Women will be the equals of men in the first time in history. The stupidity of politicians will become a liability rather than an asset. The world will change beyond their comprehension. We will be free at last!" The thunderous applause of the gathered executives rained kudos on Dee, Fran and Anita as the stood up to take their bows for their achievement. The Day of Change had arrived. Howard greeted it by pooping in his diaper in his sleep and peeing until his disposable was completely soaked. He had long since gotten used to sleeping in wet and dirty diapers, he never knew he had done it. While plans were made for the restructuring of the world, Howard continued sleeping serenely. His world had already changed. Within two weeks Anita was forced to change her mind about wearing pants. Dee explained to Anita that her new position as vice-president in charge of research would put her in the public eye at press releases. Her rank demanded that she change her appearance to look more like a member of upper management instead of one of the girls from the secretarial pool. Anita acquiesced to the requirements of her job and found a women's shop that catered to female executives. She took the afternoon off, leaving Howard under the supervision of the Daycare workers while she went to buy an expensive new wardrobe that befitted her new position. By then the disguised workers only came in every few days to test his mental deterioration. Howard didn't miss the intellectual stimulation of their games together. He spent most of his time amusing himself in a playpen with teething rings and pacifiers or sleeping in his crib in the Daycare. The smart silk pant suits Anita purchased at the boutique were especially chosen for their slimming effects in front of television cameras. As an added bonus, she discovered when she wore her new outfits to work that the mannish cut of her silk jackets and pants lent her an air of authority and power among her fellow executives that dresses simply couldn't confer. At home, she discovered that the rigors of motherhood made dresses and aprons impractical for everyday wear. It was so much more comfortable and convenient to wear jeans when she was taking care of the baby. Howard was long past caring about who wore the pants in the family. His pants had only been symbolic of his masculine rights and familial authority. Baby Bri-Bri's mind was no longer capable of appreciating verbal abstractions like male identity and prerogatives. As a baby he instinctively knew and accepted who ruled over the narrow confines of his much-shrunken universe; his mommy.

Fran was right in her predictions. Within a month of his interview with the President of Anita's company, Bri-Bri had completely forgotten his former life. He couldn't even remember his name, much less that his adoring if firm mommy had once been his subordinate spouse. His mommy's love kept him warm and her enormous titties kept his little tummy full of her nourishing milk. Little Bri-Bri's poo stopped being smelly after his mommy put him on a diet that consisted solely of mother's milk. Howard the Stinker had vanished from the world and had been replaced by the sweet-smelling, baby Bri-Bri. A much younger Fran moved in six months later and took up housekeeping with a twenty-four-year-old Anita. Baby Bri-Bri had the singular fortune of having two young attractive mommies to watch over him and take care of his every need. On Sundays they would put him in his baby seat in the back of the Suburban and go for long walks together in the park hand-in-hand while pushing Bri-Bri's expensive English silk-covered, black baby carriage with it's black leather-wrapped handle before them. Inside its protected confines, little Bri-Bri lay on a flannel sheet-covered Australian sheepskin that kept his tiny body comfortable in winter and summer. His blankie was always by his side as well as his beloved stuffed duckie. Bri-Bri's dydee bag was stuffed inside the carriage at the rear beneath his feet. Bri-Bri would gurgle delightedly at the sights and sounds of the woodland creatures overhead before drowsiness overtook him and he fell fast asleep on the soft blankets that his mommies provided for him. Occasionally he would wake as some admiring woman bent over his carriage and lifted his blankets to see the adorable diapered baby slumbering serenely within. If he fussed, Anita or Fran would get out one of his bottles and stick the nipple in his mouth while they talked about the details of baby care with their maternal acquaintance. Usually though, he would wake up, smile and gurgle in greeting at the face of the strange woman who was smiling down at him and wave his arms and legs ineffectually. Anita and Fran didn't worry about him climbing out of the carriage under his own power. He had become too young to turn over by himself, much less clamber over the deep sides of the carriage. Everyone thought he was the most charming, endearing baby they had ever seen, including his two mothers. Sometimes, if the weather was nice and they found a bench next to a soft carpet of well-tended turf, they would stop and park the carriage, then take him out and lay him on the grass to crawl on his belly while they sat on the bench, holding hands and talking. Passing women would smile at the drooling toothless infant who cooed and explored so happily at the two women's feet.

Although each day was much the same, little Bri-Bri's inability to form long term memories precluded any sense of being bored by the repetition of events. Every day was always a new adventure to him. He looked at each object and encounter as if he was seeing them for the first time. Each moment in time was like a gaily colored butterfly; entertaining and fleeting as it fluttered away to be forgotten in the joy of the next delight that fascinated him.

Anita and Fran doted on little Bri-Bri. They would often lay him in the bed between them at night after work and cuddle him while they lay in the bed together to discuss the day's technical problems with each other. Bri-Bri would chortle with glee at being in bed with the women he adored and having them fuss over him. They in turn, delighted in having such a sweet baby boy to love who would never grow up and turn into a domineering male-chauvinist pig. It may not have been the perfect solution to Anita's marital problems, but like most of Anita's even-handed resolutions, everyone was content with their lot. The company's stock soared after their new medication was placed on the market and the small company made hundreds of billions of dollars. Anita and Fran both became billionaires in their own right. Howard had no need of money, he had enough love from his two mommies to make him the richest baby in the world. It wasn't paradise, but the bliss of being forever young, together and financially secure was enough for the three of them. They lived happily ever after.

Fin

Epilog

The Denouement of a Nursery Tale Told by a Professional Storyteller in the Distant Future

Well, that's the real story of how the Earth changed and womankind came to a position of preeminence instead of men. Within five hundred [SW1]years the world's population of Homo Sapiens Sapiens had stabilized at five hundred million individuals total. It was not as small as Earth would have liked, but it was enough. They burrowed for a bit in the crust to make their new underground cities and grew quiet. The Earth sighed in relief and pulled a blanket of snow and ice close around itself in preparation for a short nap of twenty millennia. The long-aged humans' thoughts didn't disturb the Earth's tranquility as they had before. Among humans, age and experience grants a sense of oneness with one's surroundings. Humanity had solved pollution, overpopulation, wars and crime. Earth's unobtrusive intervention with the minds of a few selected individuals five centuries earlier had forced the changes it needed to get some much needed rest. It was society's time to contemplate about what it should become in the future. There were other stars, other solar systems, and now that humanity had time to consider a method to reach them, wondered whether it should. As men died out and women when on living, political power shifted to women. Our matriarchal society that sprang up in the wake of the fall of male-dominated, planet-destroying culture that had been eviscerated by a company that promised eternal youth and freedom from cancer and disease was largely controlled by the accumulated wealth that the company had sucked into its coffers from the treasuries of a ravaged world. Men worked and did their jobs under the supervision of women who were trained from birth to be managers of villages and city-states. If a man could not mature himself in a reasonable time, there were many women who needed infants to care for and nurture as their DNA demanded. Human culture stabilized, the eternal vigilance of motherhood to keep men's excesses in check. Dangerousness and violence were no longer the vogue, nurturing and community spirit were the watchwords of our new society.

The matriarchy was everywhere in the first years, changing laws and customs on a daily basis. The language was reformed to rid the human race of thousands of years of chauvinistic male influences. With such a small population it was easy to require that Anglish be the official language of the world. All forms of male chauvinism were rooted out of the language, even the names of the days of the week were modified to reflect the balance of the new world, of course many of the names remained the same, but were given a new interpretation; Monday remained as it was in honor of the Moon, which is ruled by the Goddess Diana, Tuesday remained as an honor of Twi, the Goddess of Battle, Wednesday was changed from honoring Woden, the One-eyed God of Battle, Soothsaying and male chieftains, to Wombsday to honor the pain and forbearance of the women who brought forth the human race, Thursday was transformed from honoring the chauvinistic, hammer-welding, Viking God Thor to Magaday to honor Magaera, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth (Although in truth, some of the less percipient women of the time interpreted the change to honor the worldly analog of the Virgin Creatrix of the Christian God, Mary Magdalene, who honored the fictitious God of Peace and Justice by washing his feet and supposedly stood by the side of his virgin mother as he was executed by the State for insurrection. Frankly, the matriarchy was never comfortable with the Christian God and it took more than five centuries of education to wipe out the last vestiges of belief in the God who fostered thousands of years of ravages upon women's persons and rights.) Friday honored Frei as always, Saturday was changed from the honor of Saturn, the Dark God of Justice, to Hecaday to honor Hecate, the Goddess of Ancient Wisdom, and Sunday became Junday in honor of the Goddess of Justice, Juno.

The formula survived the travails of planetary and cultural rebuilding. It was simply too valuable to lose. Patriarchalism is a dead idea. After a thousand years, aside from professional storytellers like me, only a few female archaeologists know why the weathered stone statues of the woman named Anita stand with a naked male infant in her arms at the gates of every one of our city-states. Now that I've told you the story of Anita and Howard, you know why too.

It was more than two millennia before the women who rule our matriarchy found reasons to go to the stars and land on this planet. But that's another story my children, and its time to go to bed. Tomorrow we'll go to the penal nursery and pick up a baby boy for you to play with. They told me that he was once a brilliant nuclear physicist before he disobeyed the matriarchy's rules about unregistered research. I don't know what his mother was thinking of when she let him go to the university. He should have gone to a business college where he could have learned to assist women with their research by taking dictation and typing up their lab notes. If men can't vote, then why should they be allowed to take a woman's job? Men have no place working in a dangerous field like science. If they have to go out and get a job, it should be something that they can handle, like typing and secretarial work. If they don't like that, they can be barmaids or restaurant servers. If a man likes books, he should be a librarian. Men are better suited for being librarians than doing actual research. Something must have gone wrong when they planned his genome. Men aren't supposed to be that smart. Occasionally, there's an error or mutation that isn't spotted, but mostly that results in having a male that's so stupid he's only fit for the government brothels and strip clubs instead of being an honest househusband. The matriarchy had had several ugly incidents involving male slavery in the past. Men were abducted from their mothers and forced to serve in illegal houses of prostitution. The matriarchy finally put its foot down and instituted intelligence testing for every male at age sixteen. Privately owned brothels were outlawed at the same time. If a male is too mentally disadvantaged to be a househusband or serve in some menial position, he is made a Ward of the State and is trained to please women's aesthetic needs. It's better for the poor soul that he be allowed to exercise a male's natural proclivities for exhibitionism and promiscuity than allow him to be mishandled by some private party in a dank dungeon. True, male prostitutes have a much shorter lifespan that their compatriots, but that's a consequence of their profession. Although we have conquered disease, there's little we can do about the deleterious effects of continuous sexual activity and physical exhaustion.

This baby's mother failed him by allowing him to do something his male judgement wasn't equipped to handle. Now do you understand now what happens to a man when the woman who's supposed to watch over and direct his life becomes weak or prideful? He's too young to crawl or eat solid food. The poor little thing will spend the rest of his life as a little wet plaything for girls like you. When you get tired of taking care of him, we'll turn him in to the authorities so other little girls will have the experience of putting an errant man in his proper place. If you develop a need to have a man as your housekeeper and cook when you grow older, this experience will stand you in good stead. No matter what the actual age of men, their only babies that have to be looked after and watched lest they do harm to the public at large.

I hope you will all be sweet to him, he'll still have his adult mind even if he can't show it in his little baby body. Once the penal authorities perfected the rejuvenation formula in our dim past, they made sure that minds of the little babies they made were aware of everything that happened to them and that their memories remained intact. It didn't seem fair to allow criminals to enjoy their rejuvenation into infants. I've still got your old baby clothes that you can dress him in. Won't that be nice? You can dress him up in pink baby doll dresses, lacy plastic rumba panties and cloth diapers to show all your friends what becomes of nasty old criminals. He shouldn't mind wearing your old clothes, they're probably exactly like what he wore when he was a baby. Except for sociopathic transvestites, every male has worn lace with his dresses for the past thousand years. Only women wear plain pants nowadays. Pants became passe in men's fashion in the Dark Ages when their wear threatened to unman men and make them sterile! Men's wear has evolved under the matriarchy to reflect a more balanced ecological behavior. In normal circumstances, it's the male of the species that wears bright colors and struts his pulchritude to attract females. Soft pinks and aqua's are the natural colors for men to wear to attract women's attention. The softness and delicacy suits their submissive personalities. That's why the matriarchy has reserved basic black and brown for women's exclusive use. This is as it should be. Black and brown are the colors of authority. Men aren't permitted to wear these colors because it fits neither their position in society nor does it agree with their basic nature.

During most of human history, men have been the ones that wore gaudy garments. With only one exceptionally aberrant three hundred year period of human history, men did just that. It didn't take long once men had gone back to wearing dresses for men to begin wearing laces and ribbons again. Women however, adopted pants as a matter of practicality. Since they became the majority of the work force after the introduction of the treatment, they had to wear clothes that allowed them the freedom to perform their work. It didn't take long (only about a hundred years) for dresses to be seen as proper men's wear and pants as proper garb for women. Once the matriarchy came to rule, it became a matter of law. It had always been illegal for men to be seen in public in women's clothing, but this was the first time that pants had been placed off-limits to men. Of course when children are infants they are clothed in dresses and laces to make them as appealing as possible. There's nothing quite as charming as looking at an infant garbed like a helpless man. The matriarchy has wisely made allowances for this and only enforces the strictures of proper dress once children are old enough to go to nursery school. Most mothers dress their girls in pants the moment their little girls are potty-trained and are out of diapers by the age of two. It's not unusual though, for a mother to begin dressing her daughter in pants the moment she's weaned. The matriarchy was correct in its decision to make men wear dresses. It's a matter of practicality more than fashion. Since little boys usually aren't potty trained until the age of seven or so, dresses are perfectly rational garb for them, both throughout their childhood and into their adult lives. (If you can call a man's life that!) It's nonsensical to dress a child in confining clothes when you're going to be changing his dydees in the next hour or so. Besides, so many men have weak bladders when they grow up that they have to be diapered all their lives. Would you like to try and pull a man's pants down when he's made a smelly mess all down the legs of his trousers? Of course not! When a little boy or man is wearing a dress, it's easy to change his dydees! One flip of his dress and his dirty dydee is exposed for a woman to see and change as necessary. A woman would have to be crazy to want it any other way!

Except for a few of the hidden bearded-transvestite psychopaths wearing trousers of smelly, uncured hides in the hills who haven't been brought to a women's justice court, the balance of the male population has been brought to heel. Men have a deep seated need to be disciplined by women. My own mother used to spank her househusband at least once a week just to remind him what his place in the world was. You should have heard the noise he made when she put him over her knee, pulled up his short little maid's dress and spanked him on his pink panties with her hairbrush! He would whimper and wail like a baby every time. Afterwards though, you should have seen how polite and hard working he was! Once he moved from his mother's house into our home, he never left our house until the day he died. My mother never approved of this newfangled idea of letting men go out and go shopping on their own. The very idea of letting someone with such faulty judgement operate a solar car and have access to credit cards is frightening. A man's place is in the home! They have to be kept at home and protected from the world. The poor dears are too addlebrained to be allowed into the real world with us women. They're better off doing the laundry and keeping house. Everyone knows that the best cooks are men. They're programmed by their DNA to be housekeepers and cooks. Their minds are so silly and filled with fluff that that they think their empty lives really matter. When they're not cleaning or cooking, they spend their time bathing and anointing themselves with emoluments to make their skin babysoft to please the woman of the house. The most sensible of them are satisfied to show off their new frilly dresses and new hairdos to each other at their coffee klatches while we women go to work every day.

You can do as you like with the new baby. At the age of thirteen you're almost full female citizens! You can draw lots for the right to breast feed him if you like, or I'll do so myself. It's not healthy to feed a little baby that age from a bottle. He has to get his nourishment from a mommy's breast as a matter of law. I think it would be a good experience for you girls to learn to take care of someone who's as helpless as a man. Breastfeeding and diapering a baby would be a good start. It won't be long before you're old enough to have a househusband of your own and knowing how to diaper a man will stand you in good stead. I remember how after a serious spanking my Mother used to take away her househusband's panties and make him wear diapers and plastic pants under his short skirts to humiliate and humble him. Instead of allowing him to eat in the kitchen alone as he normally did, Mother would fix him a huge bottle of baby formula and make him sit on the floor by the dining room table and nurse while we ate our dinner on t he table above. Invariably, he'd mess and wet his diapers by the end of the meal and he'd start crying. He would have to spend the rest of the night in wet and messy diapers to remind him what his lack of control had brought him. Don't think for a moment that Mother was being excessively cruel or unusual in her punishment of her househusband. Babying men is both necessary and frequent in our culture. Think about how clinging and dependent they are. They want to be babied. It reassures them that their mistress will love and care for them the way their mommies did before they were sold.

Remember that our culture is based on the idea of taking care of each other. Of course that doesn't mean that you should put up with any nonsense from a man. If he's naughty, you can spank him as you like. The State requires that women take responsibility and control of the women under their roofs. Corporal punishment of wayward men is encouraged by our laws. The same will go for the new baby too! After all, he's a State criminal! He had no right to think freely and investigate things that the State said were unsafe. Everyone has to do as they're told and think for the good of the clan if we are to survive. No one will say a thing if you punish him. Everyone knows what little monsters little boys are! If he gets to be troublesome we can have him castrated as our enlightened laws allow to make him more tractable. My mother demanded that her househusband's mother have him castrated before she would let him into our house. His mother had permanently depilated all the hair on his body except his pubes and the top of his head with ultrasonic treatments just after puberty as mothers normally do with their sons, so it wasn't necessary to ask her for that as well before accepting him into our house. Body hair makes men so smelly and unattractive. There's nothing quite as ugly as the sight of hairy legs sticking out of a man's dress or as disconcerting as kissing a hairy cheek before sending your househusband to his bed for the night.

The storyteller chuckled at a fond memory and continued, "One day he missed the toilet when he was peeing and you should have seen what she had done to him! She called a surgeon and within a day, he had lost his penis and all of his pubic hair. His pubes were as naked as a newborn babe's and completely sexless. He had to squat on the toilet to pee for the rest of his life! No more messes on the bathroom floor from him! He gave mother very little trouble after that. As a constant reminder of his place in the house, Mother had his maid's dresses shortened so that the lowest part of his pink panties could be seen without him bending over. Of course, since his dresses were properly stiffened with layers of short lacy crinoline petticoats, the minute he did bend over, his bottom and everything else was completely exposed to view. Mother did always say that a man should be seen and not heard.

Whenever someone new visited our house, Mother would lift the front of his dress so the visitor could see for herself how smooth and attractive his crotch was under his frilly silk panties. She would recommend peotomy as well as a bilateral orchiectomy to all our friends, citing her househusband's improvement in appearance and behavior as a justification for the expense. Aside from a slight tendency to pudginess after a complete orchiectomy, there are no untoward consequences for a man's health. To the contrary, the absence of testosterone lowers a man's blood pressure and tendency toward flightiness that shortens his potential lifespan. With the proper management of his diet, even the tendency to fat after castration can be controlled. If the woman who rules the house keeps sweets and fatty foods away from her househusband after the operation, there's no reason he can't look as trim as when they were sixteen. All that's needed is to enforce a strict diet of salads of bean sprouts and cereals with the addition of low fat goat milk cheeses to increase the protein. For drink, my Mother always recommended goat's milk for men. The taste and nutritional content are nearly the same as a woman's milk and reminds them who provides for their welfare. As a bonus, if they have to be put back on formula for discipline reasons, one doesn't have to worry about them having lost their ability to digest milk. If Mother was especially pleased with his work during the week, she would allow her househusband to have a Quiche for dinner on Junday. With Mother's strict control of his diet and the positive results of the operations, the difference in Mother's househusband's appearance convinced more than one friend that she was right in how to manage men. The operations had removed all traces of his manhood from his crotch. There were no ugly bumps on his lower anatomy to destroy the smooth symmetry of his body. He looked just like one of the dolls that little boys play with; completely smooth and hairless, without a hint of male imperfection to mar his lovely appearance. Mother was right. Male genitals are only an atavism that leads to trouble.

Frankly, I'm not sure why the government allows men to be born all. I'm positive it's because there are powerful hidden perverts in the government who prefer sex with inferiors like men rather than have healthy relations with other women. Most households don't even have a househusband. Women are more than capable of doing the housework and holding down a full time job without a man's help. It isn't like they're necessary for reproduction. There are much more safe means of creating babies now. Our genetic recombinant and cloning techniques allow us to create perfect little girls like you. With our new full term incubators, messy old impregnation into a woman's womb with fertilized ova isn't necessary. One of theses days I'll tell you about the horrors of pregnancy that men used to force on women during the Dark Ages. Nowadays, two women can get together and plan the perfect little girl together without the slightest effort. Nine months later, a little girl comes out of her artificial womb ready to rule over men. Unless a woman has been selected by government lot to create a boy using stored genomes, they always have little girls. This world, like old mother Earth, is a woman's world. Men exist on our sufferance. Unlike men, we are in harmony with every thought of our new planet. We have no intention of changing anything. We're at peace with our world. Now its time to go to sleep, my daughters. Compose your minds, Dears, so that the Earth II will rest as well!

Sic Transit Gloria Mundus

Copyright 1998 by Jennifer Loraine. All rights reserved