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Twitter Story: The Cuckoo's Gift
🕑 Added 2022-04-11 16:44:46 +0000 UTCThe Cuckoo's Gift.
A Twitter story for @AceBunpup
The Great Cuckoo stands before you in your very own living room. “Behold!” They bellow. “I grant you my touch! Just as my brood poses as the giant children of others, anything that you touch shall become akin to that of an overlarge infant and none shall be the wiser that it was any other way!”
You should be freaked out that a mythical bird being of time and space is standing in front of your recliner, but what they’ve said has got you far more excited.
“Anything I touch?”
“Anything.”
“Anything?”
“ANYTHING!”
“Awesome!” You cheer. Your tail is already wagging.
You look down at your paws, picking them up off the cushy chair’s armrest. They don’t feel any different or magical or more powerful. Further past them you notice that where your Dad’s beat up old recliner was, is now a giant walker. And you’re in it! “Whoah!”
“Indeed,” The Great Cucko says. “But I should warn you…”
You’re already standing up and straddling the walker to climb out. A real baby would be hard pressed to get out. “No no,” you say. “I got it. I’ve been thinking about something like this for a loooong time.” Your hind paws come down on the floor, but you stumble forward onto all fours briefly.
The Great Cuckoo waits for you to stand. The living room rug is now a foam playmat. “I knew I chose wisely.”
“Thank you, Great Cuckoo,” you say. Then a thought: “What was that about your brood pretending to be big babies?”
“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!” And then the being vanishes in a flash of light to the sound of clock gears spinning and alarm bells chiming.
Well, that was weird. At least it’s over. A grin flashes across your muzzle. Dad’s recliner is still your walker and Mom’s rug remains your foam alphabet playmat. The possibilities that run through your mind are endless.
You practically gallop to your room and start touching EVERYTHING.
The old queen sized bed you’ve had since high school is first. One touch and muted tasteful bedsheets go full primary pastel, decorated with your favorite cartoon characters. Bars shoot up around the mattress and stilts propel the whole thing off the ground. A wonderful crib. Good thing you weren’t in there or you’d be trapped until Mom or Dad got home. Then you’d have a lot of explaining to do… Except you wouldn’t, would you?
Your hind paws click across the hardwood floor and you wind your way over to the dresser, holding your breath in anticipation. This is it. The real test. The babyishness spreads like an oil slick.
You haven’t even finished pulling the underwear drawer all the way open when it ceases to exist. Your dresser warps and changes into a perfectly proportioned, beautifully simple and white and very comfy looking changing table.
Your mouth hangs open and you feel like the luckiest not-so-little cub in the whole world.
The clothing inside still needs to be transformed, but that’s an easy task. In under a minute every pair of flimsy useless underwear turns into nice puffy diapers in a stack. Soon, every folded up article, from socks, to shirts, to shorts, to the winter gloves you barely ever wear becomes a babyish equivalent. Your closet gets a similar visit and everything looks much more comfy and cute.
A random thought: Should you buy new underwear and turn it into diapers, or would regular baby diapers blow up? Would a pack of underwear that you touched in the store turn into a pack of diapers? Would it be the same count inside or more? Could you effectively steal by plucking underwear off of hangers since nobody just sells a single unpackaged diaper?
You are way overthinking it, you realize. Those are all “later” problems. The “now” problem is how to get one on? Should you lay down or...?
Oh yeah. Duh!
You stick your paws down your pants and grab hold of the underwear you’re already wearing! You giggle fiendishly feeling it puff up between your legs and start to crinkle. It’s happening! It’s really happening.
The buttons in your pants turn into snaps, and several more appeal along the inseam of your legs for easy changing. Elastic ruffles up in the waist and tailhole. Much better. The bottom of your shirt melts down between your thighs and connects into a full-blown onesie.
You’ve done it! Brilliant! You can’t believe you waited this long to try it out on something you were wearing. Comically you smack yourself on the forehead. What should you babify next.
Uh-oh.
Something’s wrong. You can feel it, even if you can’t find the words for it.
You scratch your head trying to search and sus out the funny sensation that is overcoming you from within. You bend your knees. You. lift your tail. You fill your pants. Theeeeeeeeeere. Much better.
Feeling silly, you grin behind your thumb. You didn’t even realize you were sucking it. The taste of your fingers is sooooo good.
Wait…
What?
Too late you realize the truth. Anything you touched would become more babyish. Including yourself. Including your brain.
You’re going to be in so much trouble! What if you crawled all over the house and turned Mommy and Daddy’s room into a nursery like yours? You’ve always had a nursery but not them! They will be so cross with you! On all fours you crawl back over to the changing table.
With all the concentration you can muster, you slip on the nice woolen booties onto your hind and forepaws. No more accidental touchy touch. Your favorite bonnet with an elastic chin strap goes on your head. No more head touch.
Feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted, you crawl to the corner of your nursery. The giant teddy that you never “grew out of” remains in its place of honor and nostalgia. You snuggle up to it and close your eyes…
No thoughts. Head Empty. Diaper Full. Mommy and Daddy will be home soon. They’ll change you. Everything’s fine.
Good baby. Mommy and Daddy will be so happy to see you like this and think you're so cute. The Great Cuckoo would be proud.
(The End).
Comments
It's funny. Today I was listening to "The Sandman: Act II" while gardening today, and the part I was listening to's main antagonist was named "The Cuckoo."
