Andrew blushed furiously as Krystyn pulled the diaper down between his legs to expose the wet skin of his crotch. He averted his eyes in an attempt to ignore the indignities that were being performed on his helpless body and suddenly saw his reflection in the mirror above the dresser. Although Krystyn covered most of the image, what he saw so disheartened him that he closed his eyes for the rest of the diaper change. The sight of his infant face was appalling! His cheeks had ballooned out as if he was an ancient trumpet player with overstressed cheek muscles while his chin had lost all definition and character. The innocent blue eyes that returned his astonished gaze were not the eyes of an adult. His face looked weak and babyish and seemed devoid of any maturity. Andrew squeezed his eyes tightly together to shut out the image of infancy that threatened to unhinge his mind. “What has she done to me?”, he thought in dismay, “Even I didn’t recognize me! What will all my friends say if they see me like this?”
A single tear escaped his right eye and trickled down the side of his cheek as Krystyn continued to diaper him. He had never been so humiliated in his entire life. Krystyn wasn’t any help; she tickled his tummy as if his mind had regressed to the same age as his body. In spite of himself, he giggled uncontrollably as she moved her fingers around his belly and began to tickle the skin underneath the bulge of his protuberant abdomen. The tickling caused his abdominal muscles to contract, producing the inevitable reaction from a body with an infant’s reflexes; he spurted a jet of urine high in the air, nearly soaking Krystyn with the yellow arc. Krystyn moved with the alacrity of long experience with changing incontinent infant boys. She caught the stream deftly with the soggy diaper that was nearby and held it between his legs until he stopped.