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|A Family of One|
|Chapter #: 1|
Summary: Since they live in China, the Dai family isn't allowed to have more than one child. But where there's a rule, there's a loophole!
Updated On: 06 January 2009 - Words Count: 2222 - Number of Reads: 0
This story contains material not suitable for people under 18.
SPOILER ALERT BELOW. This story is broken into four parts. The first can stand alone, as can the first plus the second. This is so that if you don't like the more graphic stuff, you can stop reading before it happens. If you want to know what that is before reading it, read the spoiler alert warning below.
The first part of this story contains age regression. I suggest you read it.
The second part of the story (which begins after the first "--") contains AR as well as transgender.
I sat in the living room, finishing some homework. My parents sat nearby, facing the television. The sounds of some documentary were humming softly from the set, but they weren't watching. Every time I turned my head I caught them quickly turning their gaze away from me. They got like this sometimes.
They were disappointed. It's not that they were disappointed in me. I was accomplished. Intelligent. Next month I would be going to one of the best schools in the country. They just had always wanted more kids. Growing up in China under the One Child Policy hadn't been so bad, but once my parents got clearance for a trip to Hong Kong, where the policy isn't in effect. They met families with more kids, all different ages. All they wanted was an opportunity to look after another child. But they couldn't. I was all they were going to get.
"Duyi," said my father."Please, go finish your work in the other room. We're watching in here."
"Of course," I said. I packed up my things and went into the bedroom.
I laid out my supplies and began writing again, only to hear talking in the other room, just loud enough to make out over the television.
"The box came today," said my father.
"Really? It did? Why didn't you mention it earlier?" said my mother.
"I wanted to wait for the right time. I know you've been wanting this for quite a while."
"Oh I've wanted this more than anything. I love you so much." I heard my mother hold back a squeal of glee. I could hear her clapping her hands over her face. Curious, I peered out into the living room.
My father opened his briefcase and pulled out a small box. He opened the box to reveal two shining golden rings. He smiled widely and presented them to my mother.
I ducked back into the bedroom before I was seen. How touching, to give your wife gifts after so many years. I decided that whenever I got married, I would be sure to do the same. I returned to my work.
Twenty minutes passed and I could still hear excited chatter from my parents. I finished my work and put it away, heading for the living room to watch some television. My parents were sitting on the couch and looked up at me.
"Duyi," said my father, "sit down." I did. He stood up.
"Son, you know how your mother and I have felt about having a different child around the house."
"Well, yes. What about it?"
My parents shared a knowing smile, and then my father raised his arms and pointed his palms at me. He was wearing the rings.
"Dad, why are you wearing the..."
He leaned forward, cutting me off by putting his hands on my shoulders. It didn't hurt or feel weird, I was just startled by how weird it was. He had an excited grin on his face. I just looked up at him in bewilderment.
He leaned in more strongly, and began pushing my shoulders together. I was speechless. I looked at his hands, and then at my mother, who sat with her hands over her mouth, shaking with fascination.
"Dad, I..." I stopped again, alarmed by the fact that although he was already pressing very hard on my shoulders, his hands began moving closer and closer together. I began to struggle and flail, but my mother began stroking my hair and cooing softly. I calmed down but my mind kept racing. What was going on?
My shoulders were shrinking! Impossible! My father kept pushing on my shoulders until he seemed to be satisfied with them, then put his hands on my head and pushed similarly. I opened my mouth to scream, and expected to hear the crack of my skull, but I remained silent as I felt the unexplainable sensation of my head getting smaller under his hands.
My father got on his knees and began pulling on my ankles. I watched in amazement as they smoothly followed his motions. His hands roamed over my body, pulling in everywhere, pushing in on my stomach, clenching my hand in his fist and squeezing, shortening my spine, and finally cupping a palm over my crotch and softly pushing in. He and my mother stood back to get a look at his handiwork. There I was, sitting flabbergasted on the couch, in baggy clothing, looking at my tiny hands.
"Eight years old," he said. "You're not Duyi any more. You are our other son, Qin."
"But I'm not..." I stopped yet again, surprised by the new high-pitched tone of my voice. Overcome by the change, I began to sob lightly. My mother swooped in and hugged me. "My new son!" she cried and held on tightly. She picked me up off of the couch, letting my now-huge pants fall to the floor.
I was crying softly, being held in my mother's arms in nothing but a pair of briefs and a loose t-shirt. This made me feel even more childish than my new body did.
"Ha ha! We were so excited, we forgot to get you new clothes. No matter, there will be plenty of time later. At least we remembered to get you a toy." He went back to his briefcase and fished out a small wooden train. I began to cry harder into my mother. I was a big boy! I didn't want to play with little toys! I wanted to go away to college!
My mother bounced me on her shoulder, shushing in my ear and trying the sound of my new name on her lips. "Shh, Qin, my little boy, shh shh Qin." Her voice became a little song and I began to feel better. Maybe the train didn't sound like such a bad idea after all.
I climbed down from my mother's arms and cautiously approached the colorful train. My parents watched on in tense anticipation. Within moments I was pushing it back and forth along the floor and making train noises with my mouth. My mother beamed. My parents began chatting happily and strode into the kitchen, the most relaxed I had seen them in ages. I determinedly went back to my train.
After several minutes I began to get a hold of myself. This wasn't right! I was a man! Ready to go off to college! A good college! Just because they wanted another child didn't give them the right.
I stood up and marched into the kitchen, pointing my finger around and speaking loudly.
"Mom, dad, I know you want another child but this is not fair! It's not fair! I don't want to be little again and that's that! Make me bigger right now!"
As soon as the words left my mouth I realized how childish my rant sounded, not to mention that I felt far too little to be talking back to my parents! I blushed, which only intensified when I noticed exactly what my parents were doing. My mother's shirt was off and my father was greedily kneading her breasts, pulling on them slightly. My jaw dropped as I saw them grow in response to his touch and begin sagging a little.
"Oh sweetie that is so cute," said my mother, leaning over me with her huge breasts swinging down. "But we've put so much effort into raising you, and we deserve to have whatever kind of family we want!"
My father approached me, smiling, apparently not mad at my outburst. Then he reached out his hands in the same embracing way he had before. I winced in fear, and tried to duck out of the way, but he was too big and too quick. He grabbed hold of my hands first and squeezed them to the size of a coffee lid as I struggled to break free. he picked me up and hugged me to his chest as tightly as he could. I gasped for breath against his chest as I felt my torso shrinking even smaller. He grasped my legs and squished them shorter than his forearm. My arms got the same treatment. Finally, he mushed my head back and forth until I felt him rubbing his hands over my scalp. I suppose he was satisfied.
He set me standing, barely, on the floor, letting my underwear, now also far too big for me despite the elastic, fall to the ground with a slight thwump underneath my now cavernous t-shirt.
My mother grinned with all of her teeth for the umpteenth time today. "Tu! You will be our little boy Tu!"
"Tu?" I warbled, not used to my tiny mouth. I drooled a bit and stumbled to the side, my small legs not able to support me for too long.
"My little one-year-old Tu." My mother sang, grasping her hands together. She lifted the t-shirt off of me and carried me to a chair.
Sitting down with me on her lap, she looked at my father. "Oh, I haven't done this in such a long time," she said. She lay me down on her lap and lifted my head up. She guided her right engorged breast into my mouth. I naturally pressed my lips down and a luscious cream began flowing into my mouth.
"Those barbarians, limiting us to one child so we can only experience joys like this once," said my father.
"This is the most glorious feeling in the world," said my mother. I had to agree. I felt a warm sensation sweeping over me. I curled up on my mother's lap, feeling the warmth of her love pouring into me. I felt at peace. This wouldn't be so bad after all. I kept drinking until I'd had my fill. With my mother stroking my hair, I slowly drifted to sleep on her lap.
I woke up still nude in my mother's lap. The only difference was that she had carried me into the living room and was sitting with me on the couch. My father sat on the recliner nearby.
I felt like I could talk, but didn't want to. It was so much more relaxing to just let things happen.
"Look, he's up," my mother softly whispered to my father.
"Our little Tu," said my father with pride.
"You know," said my mother, "he drained one breast, but the other is still full. If only we had another child to drain the other one."
I smiled dreamily. Maybe they would let me be big again. I could still drink the wonderful milk then too, right? Besides, I was already a toddler, it's not like they could keep me a toddler and call me a different child. That wouldn't make any sense.
"You're right," said my father. He approached me and I smiled at him as he picked me up and lay me on the couch. He smoothed his hands over me, as if deciding what to do. The rings on his fingers felt cool, and tickled a bit. I giggled. Then, his eyes brightened. "Oh, yes, I know," he said.
My father placed his hand on my crotch and began pushing slowly in. My eyes widened as my penis, small as it already was, rescinded into my body.
His hand continued, and very soon my crotch was flat and smooth except for a tiny pee hole. My father stopped to look at the novel sight for a moment, and then continued pushing. He began using both hands, shaping and molding what could only be my new vagina. I wiggled my arms and legs as my father finished, pulling his fingers out of my new, warm, hole. I felt an emptiness between my legs, and squeezed them together, feeling for something that wasn't there, confirming my new status.
"A baby girl!" shrieked my mother. "Oh, this is truly the best day of my life!"
"We'll call her Qiao!" my father pronounced. "Our fourth child, and the first girl."
"And about time, too," my mother giggled. "My breast was beginning to get sore."
Maybe I really was a new child, since my stomach clearly was empty again. I put aside any worries about my new genitalia as I anticipated the warm white flow. I suckled on my mother and everything felt better. I dreamed while awake; visions of fuzzy pink animals danced through my mind as I tasted the warm milk.
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