In the ethereal world of the subconscious, with minimal lucidity, Song waded. He felt as if he were underwater but uncomfortably so. Seeing as he held an affinity for swimming and bathing, this was unusual. Song tried in his sleeping scenario to speak, but his dreaming entity was mute. He swam to the top of the water to find that the sky above displayed a scene from current life, jobless and without trust in others. Furs that in reality appeared normal were donning the facades of malformed demons, demons that were signing warning notices, evictions, and handing him documented proof of his mother's mortality. These were among the most horrifying moments in his short history, and every time he resurfaced he would bear witness to another tragedy. His aggressive professors, habitual misfortune, and broken aspirations.
In the world of the waking, Song's tiny body twitched anxiously, despite the steady rising and falling motions he experienced on Tyler's respirating chest and the great wolf's tender embrace. Song's agitation mounted after two hours of reminiscence, prompting Tyler to drowsily stir. Halfway asleep, Tyler casually smiled and began to pet the cubs even plushy back with gentle loving strokes. He then lifted his head and delivered a few warm licks to Song's adorable head, sweeping over the perfectly formed muzzle, between the eyes and ears, and directly on the soft back of the skull.
In response, Song's dream was drastically altered. Each time his head broke the surface of the water, he would see the more passionate moments in his life. First dates, outings with Tyler's pack, lying in the wilderness of Maurneria, and victoriously throwing his competitors in the youth wrestling league. At some point, his visions grew further oriented around Tyler and Tyler's pack depicting how extraordinarily they accepted and watched over him. Following this, Song's theatre showed what appeared to be premonitions or symbolic alterations. He was holding Tyler's hand at the peak where the pack would often journey to in the summer, though his paw was that of an infant's and he was resting on Tyler's hip. He was wrestling with something thin and white then, playfully chewing until it slipped clean from his grasp. He looked to the right to see Tyler's smiling muzzle, for it was his tail Song played with and again it turned out that Song was only a kitten in this scene. Another breath at the top earned a scenario where Song lay curled in Tyler's right arm secure in a harness asleep as Tyler selected a business magazine in some variety of shop. Finally Song dove underneath filled with mixed emotions when down suddenly became up and he burst through the tension of the water greeted by a lightly clouded blue sky. This time, his first person perspective identified himself as the baby he now was in the real world, wet and floating in an outdoor pool with the aide of water wings. He was turned around by large canine paws and lifted into the air, above the pool by Tyler. Tyler's wet fur glistened in the sunlight and his blonde hair stuck firmly to the rest of his skin. Song produced a short and gurgling laugh at the sight before Tyler lowered him at a 45 degree angle to give him a peck on the muzzle.
At that point, Song awakened. Confused by the many possible meanings of his dream, his eyes attempted to focus the hardest they could in their six-month experience on the room. His regression was no fantasy at least. He lay prostrate on the wolf's well-formed chest and perhaps with the aide of the picturesque images of his nap looked upon him with the adoration only a son has for a father. He continued to ponder, <should I stay? There is nothing valuable for me outside. Do I mean to start over or become some pet?>. Dozens of ideas raced through his young brain. He wasn't in pain. In fact, he had never felt so flexible and pleasantly sensitive to his memory. If only he could see himself better.
Song carefully slipped himself out from underneath Tyler's limp arms. The wolf had dozed off after reassuring Song with an affectionate grooming. After a couple seconds of helpless wiggling, Tyler's arms released him and slid to the side, "Pass... the gravy... please thanks..." He spoke aloud in his slumber before unconsciously licking his lips. Even unbound, Song found locomotion a challenge. The motor skills of a 6-month-old were clumsy and raw. In spite of physical limitations, the tiger cub rolled himself over, still wrapped in his cumbersome shirt, off the Tyler’s body and off the couch. Song would have likely been bawling the street awake if he hadn't caught the edge of the cushion with his right paw at the last moment before crashing to the ground. Song let himself down gingerly and landed on his palms and knees, slightly panting. This was adroit coordination for one his age.
Song had no problems crawling along the carpet on his palms and knees after freeing himself through the neck of his shirt. Naked and invigorated by the cool air-conditioned breeze touching his sensitive body, he moved under the coffee table and found his was slightly over to the left from the computer monitor. There was no was he was going to climb up onto the computer chair or stand firmly on his hind legs to see whatever was on it. Song articulated himself into a seating position stable on both darling buttocks with his legs sprawled carelessly in front of him. He was relieved to have found a suitable vantage point as several times during his crawl he felt like reducing himself to a creep on his belly.
Song's little pink tongue hung carelessly to the front of his muzzle and he cocked his head slightly to the right. The monitor depicted a precise duplication of himself. Down to every detail, Song could make out each of his permanent markings and a face he saw only in photo albums. He shyly covered his eyes, he really was precious. Song then felt a startle in his inside. <Oh no! Not again! Am I gonna go back further!> he unwillingly began to panic.
He nervously fixed his gaze on the monitor and found that he was thankfully not youthening, but growing up at an accelerated pace. Song watched the cub in the model progress through the stages of monthly development as the numbers gradually racked higher. At around one year of age, Song's legs and coordination were honed enough that he could stand firm on both legs. Pleased, he sighed and took note of greater quantity of teeth and hair in his head. Songs height and weight gradually resumed their normal states as his body grew into that of a thin but physically independent child. He continued to mature and made his way to the computer where a timer indicated that the limit Tyler had set for the change to last had expired. Song noticed a queer sensation in his mouth as his re-grown baby-teeth were lost one after the other and he periodically spat them out. Nothing surprised him much at this point in the night (or rather early morning), and he carelessly tossed them into the waste basket. Adult teeth replaced them soon enough. Song watched his shoulders broaden and his fur take on a more mature coarseness. His features became more robust and his muzzle pushed out a little further. Song's skeleton reduced in number of bones and arranged into a more sturdy design. Song was also glad to have his post-pubescent genitalia restored to their prime and hear his whispering voice at its grown deepness.
Eventually, Song had become his original 24-year-old self once more and stretched his muscles blissfully. Being a cub wasn't traumatic, but he never would have expected such a drastic transformation so fast. In fact, he had never believed such things possible to begin with. They were fairy tales or horror stories that people contrived to frighten or satisfy their estranged desires. Somehow, though, he knew Tyler was far different from most furs by their deep connection and history together. Any normal fur would have likely freaked out beyond reason, but when he found himself engulfed by Tyler’s warmth and held tight in such positions, there was a justice and propriety. Something Song had not considered was his immediate submission to his changes. The progression was not quite as exhilarating as he had hope. Perhaps the dream had something to do with it?
Of course, the dream, it was a self-explanation of his current life and immediate future. It was dismal and his efforts depressingly went unrewarded. Why had he offered to be Tyler’s son in the first place? To prove the trinket was a mere toy, or did he like the potential idea even as he ridiculed the entire concept. Tyler never lied to him and he had little reason other than conventional wisdom to disbelieve him. Why had he suggested taking his regression to infancy below childhood? Wasn’t he only being impudent and patronizing? No, there was a deeper connection, one he had formed in his psyche long before. It was the one that allowed him to depend on Tyler’s kindness without criticizing himself and why he came to call his friend Daddy.
Song wasn’t sure what he wanted. If he used the Chronivac, he could begin life again under Tyler’s protection. Maybe, he could place a stasis on his age if he chose permanency. After all, that would be his friend’s ideal condition. He cared each and every new litter in his pack, doting on the youngest while sharing affections with the older cubs. Song could be like a combination of pet a child for him. Song shook his head, “Insane,” he whispered, but within a blunt logic prevailed. The freedom and state of independence of a cub were numbered and sparing and coincidentally, so were his. On all sides oppressive outside influence which would only lead to empty states of neutrality. If he belonged to Tyler, then at least his restrictions would be no big loss and his reward would be the constant and assured sweet love he had known the wolf for.
Why? He had to ask Tyler himself. A chill wind whipped through the room and caused a mild shrink in his member. Song blushed, reminded of his nakedness. At that moment, Tyler apparently noticed the lack of Song on his chest and woke up with a start. He was greeted by a naked adult Song. “Song, you’re big again!” he exclaimed aghast while the tiger cupped his privates. His face glowered, “Damn, we must have slept past the five hours. I’m sorry Song,” he pounded the arm of the sofa with a clenched fist, “I never got to explain myself.” Song let his hands relax and took a seat beside his friend, “I don’t know if you have to,” he smirked to Tyler’s surprise. “But, Song, it wasn’t right. I robbed you of your maturity to prove a point and I guess I got carried away,” he meekly confessed. Song laughed, “No, Tyler. I asked for it. I really and honestly asked for the whole process. You tried to tell me and I know that you are honest, but instead of trusting you I ridiculed you in your house and was given my request. Pleasing you was only right of me.” Tyler’s jaw dropped, “Song, you were a *baby*. I jumped the gun and went on with a wild scheme.” Song crossed his arms, “You wanted a son and my life blows. Make me little and that solves both our problems. You needed me to have a few hours to try the concept out, but we fell asleep. Bad luck and misfortune are all it was, Daddy.” Tyler sat up especially puzzled that even after a complete un and re-growth that Song was in a serene state of mind and still referring to him as “Daddy.”
Song looked Tyler straight in the eye, “Tyler Augustine, do you love me?” The question caught Tyler off guard and his cheeks turned a rosy color, “Well, I mean, not like in a romance. I don’t think of you as my boyfriend or anything. I do, however, feel some inexplicable attraction to you. I want to be right with you and to take your stead. I want to shield you and give you care. You’re important to me Song, like many other friends, but you are outstanding, special. That’s the way I love you.” Song flashed his fangs, “Then the feelings mutual. My only question now is how would you have me think? Would you want me a kitten in mind or would it suit you for me to keep my adult mentality?” Song asked in an awkwardly friendly tone. Tyler was eased into a state of comfort by Song’s acceptance of his plan, “I want you to be you Song. To rob you of your adult memories might change your personality forever. I don’t want all of our past to be wiped away, nor your reasons for going along with my ideas. That, and it would make taking care of you much easier. Anytime you needed something we could use signals and hidden language and you wouldn’t have to cry,” he explained feeling rather silly. “That’s all I needed to know, Ty. You want what’s best for us both and I know you’re way smarter than I am when it comes to this stuff. I’d want to think as my current self so we can keep our secrets. I can help you while pleasuring your fancies. Genius, so Tyler…” With an abrupt start, Song leapt over the coffee table and over to the Chronivac. There, he used the “REDO” option to reestablish the proper command into the prompt with a major adjustment:
MAKE CHANGES PERMENANT.
Tyler hadn’t time to raise himself out of the seat, but could see a checkbox being checked that he had remembered by location the purpose for. Song, in a massive bound landed on Tyler’s lap. The wolf stared up at Song wide-eyed, it was an uncharacteristically yiffy scene in his house. Song whispered into his ear while his regression began anew, “There’s nothing I can’t have or anything I can lose. I’m sorry that I ran away from you, Daddy. I won’t be naughty again.” Tyler felt 14-year-old Song plant a short lick on his neck and instinctively wrapped his arms around the tiger’s whole torso.
Within moments, Song was half a year old for the third time. Tyler’s eyes filled with rapturous tears and he snuggled the boy closer than before, “Welcome home, Song Augustine,” he soothed. Though this time, soothing was unnecessary, for Song’s change was deliberate and welcomed. The cub could not have been happier when Tyler laid him on his back on the couch to get a better look at the tiger babe. “Fan go Dabee,” he cooed and reached up with tiny paws to touch the enormous wolf’s muzzle. Tyler leaned over and began to bathe Song again. He groomed every possible inch of his body, washing his belly, arms, neck, skull, and afterwards moving below to get his legs, tail, and for a short moment his groin. Tyler sniffed each area that he licked with paternal attention and rubbed his chest and neck onto the cubs to mix their scents. This way, they would learn to distinguish each other by smell and Tyler’s combined scent would allow all others to know that Song was his son. When Song lay asleep prostrate, tired again by the cascading and rinsing tongue, Tyler made a few phone calls. He notified the foreman that Song wasn’t interested in the cement job and had all of his belongings removed from that hovel and into his own house. He then had all of Song’s bank storages directed to paying all of his mortgages and taxes (there was scarcely fifty dollars left). After about 30 tiring minutes, Tyler sat beside his blissfully sleeping kitten and touched the area between Song’s shoulder blades. He was trying to think about what items in his house could be converted by the Chronivac into baby supplies.
A ping notified him of a message on his computer.