Psych 101, Theodora’s Undoing

Psych 101, Theodora’s Undoing.

 

By Shorngirl

 

I am going off on a bit of a tangent here, and I hope that my readers can understand my need to branch out a little. There is still a strong haircutting theme, but paired with a few other fetishes I enjoy dabbling in.

Claire

 

It was not exactly what I pictured myself doing during my second year of university. Even though I had already declared my major, I had always been fascinated with psychiatry and sociology. I supposed that I might have been able to carry a second major, but I didn’t think I would be able to handle the workload.

And so, I set aside my work towards my engineering degree for a semester, opting to take part in a complicated study. At first, I wrote off the idea as purely ridiculous. Who, in their right mind would allow a group of psych majors to use one for an experiment? I guess their answer, fortunately for them, was me.

My name is Theo Marks, Theo being short for Theodora, a name that I hated. It was a family name, so I was obliged to keep it by my parents. My mother, in spite of my objections, insisted on using the other end of the name, as my grandmother had. I would always be ‘Dora’ to her, and that was why I insisted on Theo.

Permissions had all been put in place and my withdrawal from my normal course of study was approved by the dean of students. That was that. In three hours, I was to report to Brooks Hall, the infamous psychology building. Rumors of strange experiments ran rampant across campus, and I was warned to stay well clear by a few of my friends.

“You’re crazy, Theo!” Amy had warned over breakfast that morning. “You’ll be lucky if they don’t lobotomize you in there.”

“Don’t be silly. The whole thing sounds innocent enough.” I explained. Of course, I had been instructed not to discuss any of the particulars of the experiment. To be honest, the details had been somewhat vague. All I knew was that it involved some sort of age regression.

The idea had always been a titillating one for me. Perhaps it was the notion of being relieved of any and all responsibilities in exchange for the simpler life of a child. Not too much had been discussed during the interview, but they assured me that nothing permanent would take place and I would leave the study relatively intact. Their words, precisely.

I suppose I should have been more curious. The idea of subjecting myself to something most people would find humiliating or even degrading drove my curiosity. Whatever was going to happen, I had decided, I would simply go along.

Brooks Hall was one of the older buildings on campus, dating back to the early eighteen-hundreds. Its gothic spires and red brick arches were almost beautiful, but I couldn’t help but see them as creepy. All I could think of was an old horror movie as I walked up the stairs to the porte-cochere entryway. “Now would be a good time to change your mind, Theo,” I whispered under my breath as I reached for the door handle. But, by then, it was too late. I was inside, and the place seemed to swallow me whole.

Following the directions given to me by the group, I traced my way through the somewhat clinical passages to room 156, Psychiatry Study Intake Suite. The words were stenciled on the door in block letters. Neglecting to knock, I pushed inside.

“Hello?” I called out. An empty counter met my eyes as I searched for anyone that would confirm I was in the right place. A few seconds later, a young woman appeared through a doorway.

“Theodora Marks?” She asked, a curt smile raising a dimple on her left cheek.

“Yes, it’s Theo, if that’s alright.” I insisted.

“Okay, Theo. Sorry. I just need to call down to the lab, then we’ll get you processed in.” She chortled, eyeing me up and down.

I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under her scrutiny. I knew full well that her knowledge of this experiment far exceeded my own, and I wondered just what she was thinking. “Will I…”

“They’re ready for you. I just need for you to step through that door, and I’ll meet you on the other side in a moment.” Again, she disappeared.

I walked to the door she had indicated, the cold marble doorknob shocking me for a second before I turned it, stepping inside. There were two rows of classic wooden lockers, each fitted with a sophisticated locking system that appeared to require a fingerprint to open. Before I had a chance to examine them too closely, the woman appeared once again.

“Okay. I’ve got your standard hospital gown here.” It was one of those institutional gowns with the geometric micro print. Setting the gown on a centrally placed bench, she led me to a locker, conveniently labeled with my name. “Press your thumb against the contact pad and it will open.”

Doing as she instructed, I was just a little surprised when it worked as designed. A slight pressure against my hand indicated that the locker was indeed open. “You need me to undress?” I asked, meekly.

“That’s the idea, yes. Everything off, please. There’s a small sack for your underthings, which will be laundered during your stay. Any jewelry should be placed in this metal container and placed within the locker before you close it.” She stepped back and didn’t appear to be leaving.

Haltingly at first, I began to disrobe. Folding each item neatly before placing it inside the enclosure, I slowly got naked. I slipped the posts from my ears, replacing the clasps, followed by my watch and high school class ring. All found their way into the metal box, which she closed after examining the contents. There was an ominous finality about closing the locker, but at the same time, I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit aroused.

I was utterly naked as she helped me into the gown, which only just closed behind me. Leading the way, the woman led me back out into the passageways, eventually coming to an elevator. It appeared my shapely ass would be on display to anyone as it was impossible to walk without it falling opening.

The basement was even more forbidding than the ceramic block hallways above. Any façade or finish was entirely absent, the walls nothing more than bare red brick. It wasn’t exactly cold, but goosebumps rose on my flesh as we stopped at a double-hung doorway. A quick knock with the back of her middle knuckle and we were ushered inside.

“Ms. Marks?” A young man asked, wearing a jet-white lab coat, the obligatory pocket protector sporting a myriad of pens.

“Yes, that’s me.” I managed, nervously trying to hold the gown closed in back.

“Welcome, welcome. Peter.” He gestured, holding out a hand to shake. I reciprocated, noticing that the woman had since disappeared again. “I think we can dispense with that now.” He suggested, indicating the gown. Sensing my hesitancy, he frowned. “You’re going to have to get used to being naked in front of us. You’ll get used to it soon enough. We might as well begin now.”

I slowly slipped my last grasp on modesty over my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. He didn’t seem particularly interested in my appearance as he took a seat behind a desk, directing me into a chair to the side of it. I glanced over my shoulder at the gown, puddled in an incomplete circle on the floor.

I was thankful for my long blonde hair, which, for the moment at least was concealing my erect nipples. He pored over some papers before finally directing his attention back to me.

“Regression.” He stated, bluntly. I wasn’t certain if he was looking for a response from me, but I was fairly certain I was blushing. “You find it… exciting?”

I guessed there was no use in lying about it, so I managed a nod, certain I was blushing even more furiously. Looking down,  I realized that my legs were open, my well-manicured bush on full display. I quickly closed my legs, which did not go unnoticed.

“I think you’ll find this entire experience more tolerable if you let go of your inhibitions. This is one of the first things we are going to work on. That’s the amazing thing about us as children. No inhibitions.” He smiled. “Do you remember running around naked as a little kid? Come on, we all did it.” He encouraged. “Try to get back there, Dora. Try to imagine yourself as a little girl, out in the warm summer sun, naked as the day you were born.”

As much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t get past the idea of being sat down at a desk utterly nude, while this nerdy guy made suggestions. Then I realized that he had called me Dora. I thought about correcting him, but for whatever reason, it just didn’t seem appropriate. “I’ll try.” It was at least a response.

“Good. Good.” He stood, encouraging me to do the same. “What do you say, Dora? Why don’t we go and meet the rest of the team?” Off to the side of the large office was an even larger space, which seemed a bit like a laboratory, minus the equipment. I tried desperately not to blush as I was introduced to five more fully clothed people, some more interested in my being naked than others.

There was Janet, a rather butch-looking woman with short-cropped hair and chiseled features. Had she been a man, she might have been handsome.

Elizabeth seemed unable to keep her eyes from wandering over my body. She was pretty, in a hometown sort of way, her mousey brown hair tumbling over her shoulders and very nearly as long as my own.

Andrew seemed the serious type, barely registering that I was anything more than a means to an end. Was I really nothing more than a cog in the experiment? To him, I thought so.

Matt was shy. I think I may have been the first woman he had ever seen naked. His eyes desperately wanted to explore, I could tell, but his timid nature forbid it. Unable to make eye contact, he simply nodded when introduced.

Then there was Margie. Margie poked her hand out, taking mine in hers and shaking it vigorously. She seemed excited, almost as much as I was. Could it be that she was as aroused as I was?

Suddenly conscious of it, I quickly glanced down, worried that my moistening lips might give me away. To my relief, all was concealed by my pubes.

There were a few questions by the team, about my upbringing, and about the friends and relationships I had had. Then a silence fell over the group before Margie piped in. “I guess it’s time to prep you.”

“Prep me?” I asked.

“Well, if you’re going to be little, you should probably look the part.” Each member of the team seemed to have rehearsed the next bit rather well, as they all took positions about the lab. “We should probably start with this.” Margie chuckled, reaching out to tug at my curly thatch, quickly realizing that the silky strands were wet. “Seems like someone is enjoying the process a little more than she’s letting on.” She taunted. A few titters rose up from around the room.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Oh, my goodness. Don’t be sorry, Dora. This is going to make things so much easier in the long run.” She turned as Janet approached carrying a basin of water.

I was placed in a rather frightening-looking chair that doubled as an exam table. Just like at the gynecologist, my feet were placed into metal stirrups, only without the benefit of a cover garment. “This should only take a minute or two,” Janet said, spreading water over my curls with her bare hand. This was followed by an aromatic lather, that made my labia tingle. “Ready?”

She seemed to ask, as if I had a choice in the matter. I had never shaved down there in my life, and now it would be taken from me in the most impersonal manner imaginable. I winced as the razor scraped over my pubis, ridding me of the trappings of womanhood in very short order. As she had surmised, I was bald as a baby in a matter of moments.

“There we go, Dora.” Janet smiled, patting my bare sex with her outstretched fingers. I looked down, shocked by the absence of my blonde fur. Standing up from the chair, I was escorted to the next ‘station’. What looked suspiciously like a hair salon chair, turned out to be exactly that.

“You’re cutting my hair? I thought…”

“Now, Now, Dora. You’re going to be a little girl, and little girls don’t have grown-up hair like this.” Elizabeth scolded, running her fingers through the ends of my waist-length locks. “Pigtails, Dora. Yes, definitely pigtails.” She nodded, guiding me into the chair, my hairless mons making contact with the cool plastic upholstery of the swivel chair.

The others gathered around as Elizabeth slowly brushed out my hair, eking as much length out of it as possible before gathering it into a ponytail at the base of my neck. Surely, she wasn’t going to cut it that short.

But, my heart sank as the blades of the scissors began to hack roughly at the thick bundle of silken strands gathered tightly together behind me. The crunching was almost nauseating as I imagined the evil blades slicing coldly through my pride and joy. I loved my hair. I never imagined this.

There was some subdued clapping as the weight of my tresses fall free from my head. Elizabeth held up the impressive length of hair, handing it off to Matt, who, after briefly smelling it, deposited the pony into a metal box. I tried not to picture his erection pressing against his trousers as he enjoyed the scent of my hair, but I failed. It was a vivid image. As shy as he was, I was sure he was probably the biggest pervert of them all.

I couldn’t help but sulk as my hair fell forward into a rather choppy bob. It was a little longer than chin length, and it had been a very long time since it had been cut so short. Elizabeth continued to snip away, evening out the longer strands until I sported a very utilitarian style, curled slightly outward at the ends. Looking in the mirror, I cringed. If they wanted me to look like a little girl, they were succeeding.

The bob was one thing, but as Elizabeth gathered the hair on either side of my head into tightly bound pigtails, I was amazed by the transformation. Gone was the sophisticated college student, the offending pigtails erupting from the sides of my head like fountains. I couldn’t help myself, allowing a little raspberry giggle to escape my tightly pursed lips.

“Awe…” Elizabeth fawned. “I think she likes it.” There was some general conversation behind me as I studied myself in the mirror. The only thing betraying my childish appearance was my breasts. As small and pert as they were, they seemed out of place considering the changes being made. My nipples were painfully erect, and I knew that I was soiling the seat of the stylist’s chair with my excitement.

Next on the agenda was the bath. Now, I normally only took showers, so climbing into a bathtub with several people assisting me was a bit over the top. I was scrubbed head to toe, including my pussy and bottom. My face was scrubbed too, removing any makeup I had applied that morning, and I was certain I looked a fright.

The constant attention and pampering were something that I could very much get used to. They even dried me off when I got out. As I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I knew that things were going in a very different direction than I ever imagined them going. My pussy was bald, my hair cut short, and I was naked. The thing is, what should have been utterly humiliating was nothing short of a revelation.

“Now, we really have to do something about these.” Andrew bit, tweaking my nipple with a pinch between his thumb and finger. He turned away, and the others guided me behind him. I had to admit to feeling a bit frightened by his detached attitude. What on earth would they do about my boobs?

In an adjoining room was a very intimidating-looking table. It looked suspiciously like an operating theater, and I did my best not to imagine what Andrew had in mind for my budding breasts. I say budding, because that’s all they had ever amounted to, much to my disappointment. As small as they were, I was quite attached to them.

“Andrew knows what he’s doing.” Margie insisted behind me, as Matt seemed a little apprehensive over the next step in my regression.

“She does not have very much in the way of glandular tissue. This should be a relatively simple procedure.” Andrew assured the others, paying no attention to my obvious apprehension.

“Procedure. Now, wait just a…”

“You did sign the waiver, Dora. Now, you just need to relax. As Andrew said, this should be very simple.” Margie insisted, helping me onto the table, despite my objections. There was a quick jab in my arm, and everything went a bit fuzzy. I was far from being out cold, but it was as if I just didn’t care.

Andrew swabbed the side of my chest with something cold before a quick pinprick almost brought me out of the fog. I knew this was bad, very bad, but whatever they had given me kept me from objecting. I did notice Matt and Peter had left the room, leaving Andrew and the three girls who seemed very interested in what he was about to do.

A slight pressure against my breast was all I felt before a machine whistled to life. “Observe ladies,” Andrew instructed, as he wielded a long metal tube.

It was a weird feeling. It wasn’t painful but it certainly wasn’t pleasurable either. I felt as though something was being removed. When I looked down, I was relieved to see my erect nipples still pointing upward, but something caused them to move this way and that.

The women’s eyes were riveted to my chest as he worked, a smile slowly forming on their faces as he declared the job done. “I don’t even think we’ll need the wrap on this one. A couple of Band-Aids should do the trick nicely.”

Still very much out of it, I was helped off of the table and into a wheelchair, which I didn’t recall seeing before. The thing was, it really didn’t look like a wheelchair; more like a really large baby stroller.

“I think she needs a nap,” Margie suggested. My head was still swimming as they pushed me through the lab and into another far more elaborate room. I had to fight to concentrate, but it certainly looked like a little girl’s room. The walls were bright pink, and the furniture was all white and shiny. The strange part was, instead of a bed, there was a very large crib, railings, and all.

I wanted to object, but I just couldn’t as they lifted me onto the fluffy pink sheets, raising the side rails with a click. Little gray rabbits danced along the footboard of the crib, and I tried to concentrate on them, before slowly drifting off.

I had no idea how long I had slept, but I did have a whale of a headache. As I rolled over, I realized where I was. I had a vague recollection of this, but being fully aware now, it hit home, hard.

“Hey!” I shouted, rolling over to stand up. I was just tall enough to set my chin on the railings that encircled what looked suspiciously like a baby’s crib.

A few moments later, Margie appeared in the doorway. “Dora, you’re awake.” She walked over to the crib, lowering the railing and allowing me to climb out.

“Why am I in a crib?” I asked. Looking down I realized that I was no longer naked and sported a rather ridiculous onesie with pink bears decorating the front where the zipper ran. Complete with footies, I suddenly felt warm; too warm. “My head hurts.”

“Is that all?” She asked, interested.

“Yeah. Why?”

“That’s good. We’ll go get you something. Come on.” She held out her hand, and I took it, strangely allowing her to treat me like a toddler. “Are you sure your head is all that hurts?” She asked.

Something told me that she was probing, but there was really only the headache. I did feel a strange emptiness on my chest, but I figured that was probably the onesie, which was very bulky. “What happened, Margie.”

She spooned in a few spoonfuls of red liquid which tasted reminiscently of children’s Tylenol. “Well, Andrew thought it would be best if we took care of a couple of things before we got too far in.”

“Okay. I mean, I feel okay, other than this head. I’m thirsty though.” I admitted.

“Okay. Let’s get you some juice then.” She reached into a refrigerator, returning with a bottle. A baby bottle, nipple, and all. “There you go, Dora.”

Hesitantly, I took the bottle from her, slowly raising the nipple to my lips. It was strange slipping it into my mouth, allowing myself to suck on the rubber tip. But as I was rewarded with the refreshing juice, I soon lost my inhibitions. In fact, the notion that I was now sucking on a bottle was strangely erotic. What was happening to me?

A few days passed before I was allowed to see what exactly had been done to me. By then the small incisions Andrew had made at the edge of my breasts had all but healed. Gone were the small pert bobbins that once graced my chest. All that remained were my nipples, which were now in a constant state of erection for some reason.

I never had that much to begin with there, but the shock of seeing myself totally flat-chested was almost upsetting. Almost. Once naked, I was given my next bath and everything seemed to fall into place. My hairless sex, the pigtails, and now my boyish chest all lent credence to the notion that I was indeed transforming into a little girl.

A few months later, I found myself back in Elizabeth’s chair. As my regression continued, I had begun to take on more and more childish behaviors. This was all reinforced by the team. I slowly let go of my language skills, my fine motor abilities, and eventually my will to toilet myself.

The first accident was truly embarrassing for me but seemed a revelation for the team. Fortunately, it was only pee, but I was soon in diapers full-time. This added one more layer of humiliation to my already spiraling regression. It wasn’t long before I lost all control.

Throughout the experience, I had been masturbating at night. One of the team was always there, and never discouraged me from enjoying myself. Now, as I began to regress further, the erotic sensations I once felt were now nothing more than a ticklish sensation. It was frustrating, but I knew it was all part of what was happening to me.

I seemed to remember being told that I would leave the study relatively intact. Somehow, with everything that had happened, I found this hard to fathom. The more childish I became, the more reliant I was on the team.

I was stripped out of my onesie and sat in my diaper alone as Elizabeth looked over the bob which had grown almost to my shoulders. “You’re a baby now, Dora, and I’m afraid this just won’t do anymore.” She leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You know, a lot of babies don’t have any hair at all.”

Hearing her words, I squirmed in her chair, the diaper squeaking against the plastic seat. Was she really going to do this? Part of me wanted to cry out, in whatever childish tantrum I might have offered at the time, but I just sat there burbling as the clippers ran over my head.

Elizabeth was the only one there to enjoy what she was doing to me. I felt the cold air against my scalp as my hair fell away. She giggled over what she was doing, whispering what a good baby I was. A familiar sensation crept over me as she methodically peeled away what remained of my hair. Did the others know she was doing this? Did it matter?

The clippers fell silent, and I giggled as she ran her fingers over my freshly denuded scalp. “Look at you now, baby. You’re all bald for Lizzy, aren’t you?” And I was, utterly bald. My ears stuck out from the side of my head like little clams, and the absurdity of it seemed to fuel a feeling I thought I had lost forever.

My fingers wandered down under my diaper and into my smoothly shaved sex, wanting more than anything to come. I hadn’t for weeks, and I desperately needed to, now.

“You want to play with yourself, Dora. Go ahead then. I’ll just finish up here while you do.” I felt her rub lather over my already bald head, wanting to take me down to nothing, I knew it. That knowledge only fueled my desire, bringing me even closer to that long-overdue orgasm.

Feeling the razor on my head as Elizabeth hummed away did indeed help me, my less than coordinated efforts bringing me ever closer. “Feel it, little Dora.” She grabbed my free hand and brought it to my head, rubbing it over the glass smooth surface. I was so ridiculous, I thought, as I stared at the creature in the mirror. What a spectacle.

I was completely oblivious to their presence as the other members of the team gathered around me. Some were laughing over what I had become, congratulating themselves on their success. That was enough. Babbling incoherently, I came and came, over and over.

I didn’t remember them putting me down, but as I rolled over in my crib, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace flow over me. I knew my time there was almost at an end, and I wondered how I would ever go back to being Theo Marks. At the moment, it seemed almost impossible. I reached up and ran my fingers over my smoothly shaved head and knew that I may have crossed some line that even the team hadn’t expected. Could they fix me?

It was a few weeks later during my morning bath, I noticed Margie being particularly attentive, perhaps knowing how much she would miss me once I had gone. “You know, Dora, you have a lot of growing up to do. Wouldn’t you rather just stay here and be our little baby Dora?”

It was the first time it had even been suggested that I stay in the study. Had they gotten an extension? How was this even possible? What about my life? I tried to tell her how I felt, but in my simplistic language, it was difficult. All I managed was a garbled, “stay…”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She exclaimed. Leaving me in the tub, she ran and got the others, who gathered around me. “Tell them what you told me, Dora.” She bubbled. “Do you want to stay?”

“Stay…” I burbled, giggling with their apparent enthusiasm.

I tried to understand what I had just done. Had I really just allowed them to have me, and for how long? I wondered just how much further they might regress me. It didn’t take Andrew very long to chime in.

“I think this calls for the next step, then.” He ordered, stiffly.

I, of course, had no idea what he was referring to, but I would learn in short order. When I was wheeled back into that most frightening room, I knew that this might be something I would regret. My little mind tried to say something, but I was soon feeling that groggy fog again. It was too late.

I don’t know how long it has been since I disappeared into the bowels of Brooks Hall, but I know it has been a very long time. I’m baby Dora, now, the changes having been rendered permanent over these many months. I am utterly bald and as toothless as a baby should be. I am beyond any hope of leaving.

The faces have changed, of course, but the study goes on. Each new group of team members learning from the last how best to care for me. I hear there have been inquiries, but so far no one has come for me. I’m laying here as my diaper is changed, sucking on my pacifier, the smooth rubber caressing my gums. I feel the cool of the plastic liner against my bald head, crinkling as I’m rolled from side to side.

I’m going to masturbate soon, knowing that we’re being watched. They watch us all the time, and I know it. I think they like watching the two of us. I see him playing with his little winky next to me in the crib. Matt looks like me now, and it’s fun having someone to play with. Every once in a while, we get naughty, but he doesn’t like getting spanked. Me on the other hand…