Andrew’s reaction to nursing Amber’s teat was buried deep in the nether recesses of his brain where they couldn’t exhibit themselves. Had Andrew been in control of his body, he would have retched from the experience, but his subordinate position in his brain only allowed him to watch in utter disgust as his infantile subconscious satisfied itself by nursing a dry tit. Unfortunately for Andrew’s mental stability, the pleasant sensations of the baby’s suckling were clearly delivered to his mind. He could feel every movement of the baby’s cheeks and lips as they drew Amber’s erectile nipple deep into its mouth and nursed by pressing the nipple against hiss hard palette and creating a vacuum.
Despite his adult orientation, he felt himself being drawn into the experience and enjoying it. His previous psychological regression to an anal orientation was repeated, only this time he was drawn further into the mindset of his babyhood. The pleasure of oral gratification easily replaced the pleasures of pooping and peeing in his pants as his primary focus. Although he’d still enjoy making his diapers warm and wet or making a nice squishy mess in the bottom of his diapers, that was nothing to compare with the new found pleasures of suckling a woman’s titty. Not since babyhood had Andrew experienced the sensation of a woman’s teat in his mouth. Andrew’s mind crumbled into disorganized, unmanageable pieces under the pressure of his new orientation. As an infant who enjoyed pooping his diapers, he had individuality, but as an infant who thrived on suckling and being nurtured at his mommy’s teats, he began to lose focus. He had difficulty being able to distinguish between himself and Amber. Somehow it seemed to him that they were the same person, only in different places at the same time. The concept made his head swim.
When the baby’s eyes closed in pleasure, depriving Andrew of his window to the outside world, he felt like a vast abyss had opened beneath his back, causing him to fall backwards into a bottomless pit. His virtual stomach felt queasy and threatened to turned itself over and inside-out as he accelerated in his mental descent through the psychic boundaries that had defined his life as a young adult. There was no anchor in his life anymore, nothing to hold him back, he was adrift in a limitless sea of consciousness that had no landmarks to delineate what he had once been. The control of his body might have helped him resist the changes in his personality that were gradually eating away at his sanity. Without the ability to lift a single finger, he was tied to the sensory inputs that his infant body provided. Once they were removed by sleep or unconsciousness, he lost most of his connection with the real world. Although he could still hear and sense tactile sensations, they were insufficient to maintain his personal reality. His life had become an unending nightmare of helpless loneliness, with only the few episodes of close physical contact when he was held to either Krystyn’s or Amber’s bosom to keep him from going stark-staring mad.
Despite his best efforts to maintain its stability, Andrew the adult was quietly slipping away. With only the distorted sensations from an infant’s sensorium to fix his former reality in his consciousness, his mind was beginning to adapt itself to its environment. Andrew the college student was only a memory; the reality of his existence was that he was an infant. The memories of his former existence weren’t enough to sustain his mental integrity over the long haul. His adult mind was slowly slipping into infancy; inexorably his personality had begun to accept his status as a baby and relearn the physical pleasures of being an infant. That was the beginning of the end for Andrew, once the control of the “dead” zone he had created around his neurological walls slipped for even an instant, the stealthy cellular army of his rejuvenated brain silently slipped in and began an unperceived, invisible besiegement of his mental defenses.
Amber enjoyed Jimmy’s suckling and switched breasts after about five minutes. After five minutes more of continued suckling, Amber climaxed on the spot. Andrew never felt the quivering that radiated up from Amber’s crotch, nor the involuntary clinching of her abdominal muscles as the throes of orgasm caused the musculature of her lower anatomy to go into temporary tetany. He was too far gone in his psychological rebirth to understand the faint sensations that filtered through the drowsing baby’s brain. All at once, the baby’s mind suddenly began pouring incredibly strong feelings of pleasure and ecstasy through the dendritic connection that linked Andrew’s mind to the outside world. The dimly remembered sensations uncovered subconscious memories that immediately overwhelmed Andrew’s consciousness. He slipped into passiveness as the feeling of suckling drew him back to a point in time were everything was done for him by an all-powerful maternal Goddess who he had learned to call mother. Everything seemed dreamlike and unreal. He relaxed and let the dream take him where it would. He had never learned the art of controlling his dreams so there was nothing left to do. Jimmy enjoyed sucking on the nipple which suddenly became quite hard and jutted into deep into his mouth. Andrew’s mind had shut down in an almost fugue state while a massive reconstruction of his memories and reality was undertaken after his experience with Amber.
Under normal circumstances, the brain reconstructs its reality every night while the conscious sleeps and makes continuous readjustments to memories as they are retrieved while the brain is in a waking state. However, since the tissues of his brain itself had undergone massive rejuvenation, it had discovered that the encapsulated adult memories encoded in his brain had become out of synchronization with reality. The area of the Jimmy/Andrew brain known as the Limbic region worked overtime to redress the imbalance between perceived reality and what the remnants of his adult mind believed to be true about itself. Obviously, the personality that had encysted itself in his brain was aberrant; it couldn’t deal with the demonstrable reality that it was in the body of a baby ruled by a brain that was called Jimmy. The brain being the self-repairing organic mechanism it was, it would have to rebuild the isolated and presumably psychotic subset of its consciousness that was attempting to maintain a separate existence. If the issue had been a pure flight/fight or food/sex problem, the R-brain would have mediated the commands and issued orders to destroy, copulate, gorge or run as circumstances dictated. The R-brain rested and let the L-brain take over the problem of re-assimilation. From the R-brain’s viewpoint, the problem was merely being loved in a social context, which was the sole providence of the Limbic brain.
One of the functions of the Limbic brain was to insure the social survival of the individual by maintaining a proper viewpoint of the individual’s relation to society. Unfortunately, Andrew’s defenses had been discovered by the survival processes in his brain and were scheduled for eradication. Given the extremely rapid growth of new dendrites in an infant’s brain, he had three weeks of conscious left for him before his personality was irrevocably erased or absorbed into the simplex mind called Jimmy. Fortunately for Andrew’s peace of mind, there was no one to tell him of his ultimate fate. As the process of reassimilation progressed, his defenses would be undermined without notice, allowing a tunnel to be created through the neurological moat that was empty of connective dendrites. The interwoven wall of neurons would be silently breached, allowing the invading army of the person called Jimmy to enter and wreak havoc. Once the floodgates were open and his defenses overrun by the lymphatic hosts, the bits and pieces of his personality that survived the onslaught would be usefully incorporated into Jimmy’s mind.
As the towers of intellect and education Andrew had carefully constructed over the years toppled in to mindless ruin, he would become a jabbering, drooling idiot who enjoyed making messes and wetties in his diapers. Mercifully, his torment would be short-lived; the pitiful remnants of his psyche would be absorbed within minutes, bringing the solace of nepenthe with the death of his personality. Even if he succeeded in a last ditch effort and managed to overthrow the conqueror in his moment of victory, the results would be much the same. The conscious connections to the nerves of his body had vanished. He would never be able to walk or talk again, much less aspire to be potty-trained. Neither his musculature or the organization of his brain was up to the task. The best Andrew could hope for was to sweep forth and overwhelm Jimmy’s poorly-led cellular infantry. If he won, the prize would be a mental wasteland were all that had been before his transformation had been annihilated. He would inherit a psychic Kingdom he couldn’t control and would serve as an inescapable prison until he died. If he won, he would lose contact with reality within weeks and descend into utter madness from which there was no deliverance. While his Superego communicated the necessary knowledge of his immanent psychic destruction to Andrew in his dream, it had no effect on the reality he was living through the dream. One way or the other, he’d be forced to live out the nightmare until he woke.
Even in his dream, he instinctively knew that his sanity didn’t matter in the long run; there is very little difference between a babbling, incontinent madman and a pre-speech infant to an outsider except the size and power of the patient’s body. The Superego within him knew that if that same madman occupied a clumsy infant’s body, no one would ever suspect an adult mind was trapped within its confines. In either case both are equally unable to deal with the world and needed permanent guardians and caretakers as far as society is concerned. He would be diapered and bottle-fed, as well as bathed when needed. His world would be limited by the mesh of his playpen or the bars of his crib. If he had to be placed in mildly dangerous locations like a high chair, baby’s autoseat or shopping cart, he’d be strapped in securely so he couldn’t climb out on his own. He’d never take a bath alone again. When his adoptive mother was busy or tired of his presence for the day, she’d take him to a Daycare center where he’d be watched by strangers who were used to dealing with a helpless infant’s needs. His new mommy would take him on outings to the park for fresh air on the weekends. Unless the spell was broken or withdrawn by the spellcaster, Andrew was doomed in his dream to a life of infancy. Each day that passed made the survival of his personality less likely as the cellular hosts gathered at the spherical moat of his mind.
