Eric 8 (tt tb mt oral anal AR)

Important Note:This story part contains mature subject matter and some graphic descriptions of personal encounters. If you do not wish to read or might be offended by explicit language and/or descriptions, please use your browser's 'BACK' button now. The subject matter that follows may not be intended for those under 18. This is a work of fiction and the characters are not representative of any person living or dead.

Author's Note: This story contains elements of age regression in which a man is gradually made physically younger over time. Some parts of this story, though not this particular section perhaps, contain descriptions of sexual contact between this man and others as he is regressed into a Teen, a Boy and so on. If this sounds like something that might offend you, please read no further. Otherwise - enjoy!

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Eric woke up crabby in his crib. It was a couple days later, and his little peepee was still a little sore, even though it healed much faster than normal because of the growth acceleration drug that Coach had given him. He was still upset that Daddy had taken his foreskin away from him. He was tired of waking up with a soggy diaper every morning, and on top of that, he now had an uncomfortable sensation in his mouth - not pain exactly, but his little gums were very sore. As Coach changed Eric's diaper, he thought he felt a little warm. The little guy might be running a bit of a fever, but wanted to make sure. "Daddy has to take your temperature, Eric. Does baby wike that?" Eric wasn't sure what he thought, but he didn't appreciate Daddy's patronizing tone. Coach reached into a drawer under the changing table, and pulled out a thermometer. It really wasn't very big, but when Coach dipped it into the Vaseline, and Eric figured out what Daddy was going to do to him, he was very upset. He kicked his little feet helplessly, trying to forestall this invasion. But Daddy was undeterred. He grabbed Eric's feet and pulled them up in the air, exposing his little bottom. Eric felt the blunt end penetrate his very last tiny area of privacy, and he froze. The cold, hard probe invaded his virgin asshole, and Eric squealed in horror and revulsion. Suddenly, however, it occurred to him that it really didn't hurt. In fact, despite himself, he was sort of getting off on it! His little peepee got hard right away. Coach noticed Eric's little stiffy and smiled. "Well, I guess we finally see what makes you tick..." he teased. Eric was mortified. He lay there for a couple minutes, plugged at both ends, squirming and wriggling at the little tickle he was feeling in his poo poo hole. When Daddy finally pulled out the thermometer, Eric sighed unconsciously at the sensation of emptiness in his hungry hole - he wished that Daddy would put the thermometer back in.

"Well, it looks like Daddy's little boy is starting to teethe. He has widdle fever, and that explains why Baby Eric is in such a grouchy mood this morning" Coach dressed Eric in a little one-piece outfit and sat him on the floor. "I have a present for baby's... well, let's call it a birthday." He walked over to his desk and produced a plastic 'squeaky' toy - a toy hockey puck, and held it out to Eric. Eric reached for it excitedly, but Daddy shook his head. "If baby wants his toy, baby will have to come to Daddy to get it!" Eric sat there for a second, and then struggled onto his hands and knees. His efforts at crawling were rather feeble. His little arms kept going out from under him, but he was able to make it part way across the room before he gave up in frustration. Coach thought that was good enough for a first try. "Daddy is SO proud of his little Eric!" he said, picking him up and tossing him up into the air. Eric squealed with delight. Daddy handed him the toy puck, and Eric put it into his mouth and started to chew on it, cooing contentedly. Coach laughed, "Well, that's not what I had in mind exactly, but if it makes widdle Ewic feel better..."

Within a few days Eric found himself back at the maturity level of a 2 or 3 year old. He was walking again, but with difficulty. But at least he was showing a little progress, which was more than could be said of his efforts at potty training. Coach was frustrated by Eric's slowness in abandoning his di-dees. So it was that the Coach woke Eric early one morning. His diaper was wet again. Coach got him cleaned up and dressed. After breakfast, Eric was surprised to hear the doorbell ring. Daddy opened the door, and a great big man came in. When Eric recognized the stranger as John, his best friend and former roommate, he got very fussy. He had gotten used to spending all of his time with Brian and 'Daddy' and it was scary for him to suddenly face someone new, even if that person had been his best buddy for years. Even worse though, John was HUGE. It just drove home again how tiny he still was compared to his old powerful, athletic body. Eric had always been bigger than John, and here John literally towered over him. When John squatted down to say hello, Eric ran and hid behind Brian, burying his face shyly in his 'big brother's' legs. Coach stepped around Brian and picked the poor little guy up.

"Eric," he said, "Brian and I are going into the city for the day, and that wouldn't be much fun for a little guy like you. John has a little boy just like you at home, so I asked him to look after you this afternoon."

Poor Eric didn't like the idea very much, and as Coach handed him off to John, Eric kicked and grabbed for the Coach, crying angrily all the while.

"I got him, Dad!" said John, and held him tightly until the Coach and Brian were safely out the door before putting his little charge down again. Eric stood at the storm door and cried as he watched Brian ride away with his dad. "Ba Ba!" he called out to Brian. From behind him, John said, "Ba ba? You're a little too old to be crying out for a bottle, aren't you? So, what are we going to do today, little guy?" Eric didn't respond; he only knew that he wanted as little to do with John as was possible. Being around his friend in his current diminished form was just too hard for him. Eric sort of pouted and walked to the other side of the room, determined to keep as much distance between himself and buddy as possible. Eric sat down and feigned interest in some show on TV, and John settled down with the paper, looking up every minute or so to make sure little Eric wasn't getting into anything.

As Eric sat on the floor and tried to follow the TV show, but he could hardly keep his eyes open even though he had only been awake for a few hours. It was too hard to keep up with what was happening on the TV, which made him sleepy. But also, even though he didn't realize it, he was a little toddler still, and he really did need a nap. Eric absently slipped his thumb into his mouth and began to drift off to sleep. Eric was surprised out of his slumber when John picked him up. "I think somebody needs a nap," John said. Eric sure didn't like the idea of being stuck in his crib all afternoon, and kicked and cried as John sat him down in the crib. John left the door open a crack and sat down with the paper in the other room, figuring from experience that the little toddler would cry himself to sleep in a few minutes. Eric grabbed the bars of the crib and shook them like a little prisoner and cried out for attention as John left the room, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. Unable to control his emotions, Eric's temper got the best of him and he soon was crying so hard that he could hardly catch a breath in between. As he stood there crying, however, he forgot himself and started to make a poo poo in his diaper. He tried to stop, but it was too late. It just kept coming, filling his pants. Eric was so upset and humiliated at the whole thing. Without thinking, he let go of the bars and fell down hard on his backside. It didn't hurt, but his diaper was sure to be a bigger mess now. He knew he should call for John to change his dirty diaper, but the prospect of being changed by his best friend was unthinkable. So instead, Eric lie down on his side and slipped his thumb back into his mouth and before long he drifted off to sleep. In the living room, John had noticed that the crying had tapered off suddenly. He smiled and said to himself, "Do I know kids or what."

When Eric woke up, his little ass was on fire. He knew he had a bad diaper rash and just cried out in pain and frustration. When John answered the squawking from the crib, he saw the little guy standing there, bowlegged and in tears.

"Looks like somebody has poopy pants," John said patronizingly as he picked Eric up. He laid his little ex-roomie on the changing table undressed him. Eric was a mess. "You sure are a stinky little guy," John teased. He started to wipe up Eric's mess. "You know," he said, "It really isn't any of my business, but you look like too big a boy to still be messing in your diaper like a baby. My little Johnny is only 2 - much littler than you are - and he goes potty like a big boy." Eric's cheeks reddened at the shame of what he was hearing - that his best friend's 2-year-old son was now more grown up than he was. John lifted Eric's feet and wiped off his little bottom. He noticed a small red birthmark on Eric's ass cheek. As he looked at it though, he realized that it was not a birthmark, but rather a tattoo. "Who the hell tattoo's a little kid," he thought to himself. Suddenly it struck him. People don't tattoo their kids, and he knew only one person with a tattoo like that. All the pieces fell into place: the Coach calling Eric aside at the end of the last game of the season, Eric's sudden and unexplained trip with 'friends' for the summer, Coaches asking him to look after his 'nephew' Eric. John picked up his little ex-roomie and held him in front of him, naked and completely exposed. He was speechless, and stared in disbelief. But Eric had an uncut cock, didn't he?

"Eric - Buddy, Can you understand me? Is that you?"

Now Eric was dumbfounded. How could John have ever recognized him?

"Ew-ic," he reluctantly replied, tears welling up in his eyes. He was so shamed by how pathetic his efforts at speech were, that he momentarily forgot that he was trying to hold in his peepee. Without thinking, he let go and shot a thin stream straight at John, soaking his Polo shirt. He had thought that once he started to get bigger, the humiliation would stop. But no - it just wouldn't end! This was about as bad as he had yet felt, and he suddenly burst into tears. John held him tight against his massive chest, partly to comfort the infantile athlete, but also to keep the pee from getting all over the rest of his clothes. "There, there," he said, "It's okay, Buddy - everything's gonna be fine now. John's going to make sure of that..." He continued to hug his tiny friend tightly, rocking him and consoling him until the crying had diminished to little sniffles. "There, that's better, isn't it?" John said gently. "Now we'd better go get cleaned up." John carried the sad little guy into the bathroom with him, and sat him on the floor while he stripped of his wet shirt and all the rest of his clothes. He started the shower, and sat Eric beside him in the tub. Eric cried out as the water splashed over him. He looked up at John as he soaped himself up. He was normally a couple inches taller than John, and generally a bigger, stronger guy. Now, however, he felt so small and weak and helpless beside him. It just brought it home that even though he was getting bigger again, he was still a baby! And as he watched John lather up his huge cock and balls, he absently slipped his thumb into his mouth and started to suck. He looked down to his own little peanut, so pathetic in comparison to John's big monster, and could see that it was starting to get hard. Oh NO, he thought, what would John think of him if he noticed. He reached down and shyly covered his little stiffy.

John looked down at his buddy Eric, now a toddler sitting at his feet. He felt so bad for the little guy, unable to keep himself from sucking on his thumb and grabbing his little peanut, even though he was clearly embarrassed by his position. John squatted down to wash the little guy. Eric wished he could die as John soaped up his whole little body with his great big strong hands. It did give him a thrill, though, as John washed his little peanut, and ran a soapy hand up his ass crack. After he was all washed, John picked him up and held him under the showerhead to rinse him off. Eric cried and kicked as the warm water sprayed over him. John gave a kindly laugh at Eric's helpless struggles.

John turned off the shower and wrapped Eric in a great, big fluffy towel. He dried himself off and pulled on his boxers and his jeans (his shirt was still soaked with Eric's peepee). He carried Eric to the changing table, and powdered his little peanut and bottom. After dressing him in just his little diaper, John carried him out to the porch and sat down on the porch swing. He sat Eric on his lap facing him, and fixed him with a serious look.

"Eric," he said, "I have to tell you something very important, and I want to be sure you understand. Can you understand what I'm saying to you." Eric looked him in the eye and nodded. John took a deep breath: "You know, you aren't the first one Coach has done this to. I never thought he'd try to take anybody back this far, but I know that he's done it several times, guys we play with now... and he did it to me." Eric looked surprised to hear this. John reached over and wiped the drool from Eric's chin. "It works though. Your game will improve a lot. Mine did, and so has everybody else's I've seen. But listen to me..." he grabbed Eric's face and looked straight into his eyes, "This is important - you have to be real careful, buddy. This whole thing can change you in ways you never expected - that Coach never even expected." Eric looked like he didn't quite follow what John was telling him. "Look, just promise me you'll be careful. Anything you do - ANYTHING - can make you CHANGE, Eric - can you understand that? You could wind up being different - feeling differently - in ways you just can't predict. So please, you gotta watch what you're doing... On the ice, fine. But at home - BE CAREFUL!" John paused for a moment. "I haven't been the same since Coach did it to me. There are things, feelings, that I know weren't part of me before... I don't want this to happen to you, too. Do you understand?" Eric looked at him and nodded. "Uh-huh," he said. John smiled and hugged the little center. "That's my good little boy!" John spent the next hour rocking on the porch, holding Eric on his bare chest. As Eric nuzzled his best friend's hairy chest, dozing comfortably, his insecurities seemed to fade away, and drifted off to sleep in his friends strong arms, safe and secure in the knowledge that John would make sure everything was okay.

Eric was awakened by shouting. It scared him and he started to cry a little. John was still holding him tightly against him, and was arguing loudly with the Coach. It was hard for Eric to follow it all - they were talking so fast.

"Dammit, Coach, I can't believe you would take the risk to take him back so far! It was bad enough for you to do what you did to me and the others, but to take him back to a f*cking infant! And you had NO right to get him circumcised! Who are you to make a decision like that for somebody? It's just arrogant! I told you that things happen... you can't be careful enough with this sh*t!" John was furious.

"Listen," the Coach responded harshly, "I have done this before and, as far as I'm concerned, it's worked out perfectly each time. You forget that the 'risk' I took on you saved your career. Now - you're the one who's interfering in this. I know what I'm doing, and everything is going as I planned. So I'm warning you - don't f*ck with me. I have, you will recall, held you over my knee and spanked you before." Coach smiled now, relishing the moment. "I'll do it to you again if you cause any trouble... you know that I can do it."

John didn't answer right away. I mean, what could he say? He was concerned about his friend, but there was no way he would risk going through all that again. He had told Eric of the dangers, to be careful. That would have to be enough.

"That's okay, Dad" John said, unconsciously slipping into a more submissive speech and posture, the anger and confidence now gone from his voice. "I guess you know what you're doing." He handed Eric back to the Coach.

"Well, I better be going now," the chastened athlete said finally. He turned to Eric then, and gave his fine blonde hair a tussle. "And don't you worry about a thing, little guy. Dad will make sure everything turns out okay." And with that he scuttled out, tail between his legs, but hopeful that he had gotten the message across, and hadn't pissed off the Coach too badly.

The little altercation with John had exactly the outcome that Coach had hoped for. It served as a warning for John that even now, if his performance or attitude flagged, he was not out of the Coach's reach. For Eric, it was just another reminder that Daddy knew best, and made him feel more helpless than ever. And he now knew that his big buddy John couldn't help - no one could. He would have to see Daddy's plan through to the end.

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