I never thought I'd see the day that I got a chance to meet Simon Seville. My secret crush of several years would be appearing at a convention in Dallas, just south of my home. All attendees would enjoy the experience of a lifetime: a day in the life of an anthropomorphic chipmunk. Plus, there was a big contest that would name six lucky winners who would keep their forms for the rest of their lives. Of course, the name Austin Keith wouldn't be announced; I rarely won anything.
The event was not very crowded despite the added perks, but then again the Chipmunks were popular mainly among children. I was able to enter with no wait, and was directed to a cylindrical pod large enough for me to step completely inside of. The pod closed automatically, and I heard several automated messages describing the progress of the transformation. Fear set in, however, when I heard the last of the reports.
"Unexpected anomaly. Transporting to hazard control bay 2." I felt a sort of whooshing motion, and suddenly I was inside a large, tile-covered room with a drain in the center of the depressed floor. To my horror, my bladder immediately emptied itself onto the floor of the giant, shower-like space before I had a clue what was going on. Then, the scientist entered.
She was nearly twice as tall as me, which meant I had shrunk during the transformation. Not a word was spoken as she neared, and soon I was being carried under the arms like a small child. Taken from the room, I found myself laid out on a tall, wooden table with a cushioned top; no doubt meant for use on babies. Finally, I was given an explanation of what was going on.
"Sorry about this," the scientist apologized, pulling out some supplies, "Only one in every 500 attendees experiences an anomaly, and you've probably got the most embarrassing of the lot." I gulped and tested out my chipmunk voice for the first time.
"Complete urinary incontinence?" I guessed. The woman nodded.
"Brought about by erroneous gene resequencing, yes," she explained, "You'll experience the symptoms as long as you're a chipmunk." I felt a cold wipe move over my midsection, and then a dash of powder. Finally, I watched as a diaper was taped around me; white with a light blue design. Although I was not pleased with the unexpected side effects, I was admittedly a bit excited. I had secretly wanted to try diapers for a year or two now, and they were every bit as soft as I'd hoped.
The scientist put away the supplies before lifting me off the table and setting me on the ground. I was handed a small backpack, which fit my body size perfectly. Finally, I was directed towards a solitary door.
"The bag has all of your belongings and some supplies so you can change yourself later on," the scientist explained, "Through that door is a wardrobe where you can choose a new outfit. It leads out into the convention center as well. Have a nice day." I managed a meek smile.
"Thanks; I'll try," I promised. Then I headed through the door. Inside, I was surrounded by clothes of slightly varying, small sizes. My biggest necessity was a pair of baggy pants, but as I searched the spacious room they eluded me. Passing on several pairs of skinny jeans, I found a few other things to put on. Soon, I was clad in a gray, Shelby Cobra t-shirt, an orange hoodie, socks, and a pair of black, white and orange sneakers. Continuing to search for looser bottoms, I was surprised to hear the sound of another door opening.
"Looking for baggy pants, I presume?" I froze at the sound of a dreamy, familiar voice. It seemed as if I was paralyzed when none other than Simon Seville stepped into view. A pair of khaki, cargo pants lay over his left arm, which he extended towards me. Forcing myself to move, I pulled on the pants with the aid of a belt, and found that they comfortably concealed my embarrassing secret.
"Thanks," I responded after a moment, "All I could find were some variation of slim fit." Simon rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Sorry; the wardrobe was initially intended for those very conscious of their weight," be apologized, "Another of our problematic anomalies." He went on to explain just what was going on: a glitch in his transformation program was mutating one of three particular genes in unlucky patients.
The most common effect was a sizeable weight gain, attributed to Theodore's genes. The first discovered and most common, a remedy had already been developed. Second, coming from Simon's own genes, was loss of eyesight. This had also been cured prior to the event. However, the third and rarest effect, attributed to a gene that had made Alvin a bedwetter as a child, had yet to receive such a solution. I was stuck this way until Simon finished it.
"When are you going to have the fix ready?" I asked. Simon paused for a moment.
"I'm fairly close," he finally answered, "Go enjoy the convention, grab some lunch, and then come back here. I may have it ready by then." I gave a nod of understanding.
"Okay, thanks," I replied. I wanted to say more, but my accursed shyness would not let me speak a word. Simon led me to the door connecting the wardrobe to the convention, and I hesitantly left his side to explore the exhibits.
After browsing through countless displays of memorabilia, including a full set of Hardees glasses, I came across an autograph booth. There was a list of timeslots, one for each of the six famous chipmunks, and during said slot you could meet and get an autograph from them. Simon's was scheduled towards the end of the convention, which made sense because he was busy for the time being. The chipmunk currently inside was Theodore.
I went ahead and stood in line, because Theo was probably my second favorite chipmunk along with Jeanette. Keeping with the convention's moderate crowd, it took only half an hour to get inside and meet him. Honestly, I had expected at least twice as much. Theodore was very kind, and gave me his autograph cheerfully. I had to move on quickly, though, so the next person could meet him. Heeding the clock and my stomach, I headed for the food court.
The convention center had a concession stand rather close to the building's main exit. Much to my dismay, the closest thing to an entree that they offered was a large pretzel that came in three varieties. As I pondered whether or not to purchase anything, someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder. Not expecting the action, I naturally jumped in shock before turning to accost whoever was responsible. However, I stopped short at the sight of the young man.
Soft, gray-blue eyes gazed through a pair of black spectacles; the frames shaped like rather bulbous rectangles. A navy blue hoodie clung to a bright, blue shirt beneath, and both garments hung over a pair of loose-fitting, black jeans. A pair of navy sneakers completed the outfit. I could tell immediately that it was Simon, but his handsome disguise fooled pretty much everyone else. He held a large Chick-fil-A bag and a drink holder with three cups.
"Sorry to startle you," he apologized, "I brought lunch. Come on, let's eat." Simon led me over to a table, putting down all of the food as we sat down across from each other. "I got you their number 1 combo, the original chicken sandwich, with Dr. Pepper," he announced, "I hope that's okay." I gave a nod of acceptance.
"It's fine; that's what I usually get anyway," I responded. Simon slid the a second cup towards me, which looked a bit different than the other two. This was, as I found, because it contained a cookies n' creme milkshake.
"That's my special treat, to make up for this whole fiasco," Simon explained. I blushed lightly.
"Thanks," I replied, "You're being rather nice about this whole thing, you know. I'm guessing not everyone gets this kind of treatment." Simon turned a light shade of pink.
"You'd be right," he admitted. My secret crush went silent.
"So, what makes me so special?" I inquired. Simon hesitated to speak.
"Well, being as you have the only uncured genetic anomaly, you were naturally brought to my attention." He paused for a moment, his cheeks flush with color. "Then I saw you for the first time, and… I-I fell in love..." He promptly took a bite of food, staring at his sandwich.
"It's okay to be gay, you know," I spoke quietly, grasping his free hand, "Did you get the cure finished?" Simon squeezed my hand in response, managing a smile. He still seemed grateful for another subject to talk about, though.
"Yeah, I can have you back to normal as soon as we finish eating," he promised. I smiled in response.
"Alright, but I need to make a pit stop first," I insisted, blushing, "I'm getting a bit soggy, if you know what I mean." Simon chuckled lightly.
"I understand," he replied. We maintained a cheerful mood for the last few minutes of lunch before standing and disposing of our trash. I sucked on the remaining half of my milkshake; Simon and I holding hands as we headed down a ways to the bathroom. I grasped my bag and headed inside, only for Simon to follow me in. He quickly took care of things, laying me out on a human-sized changing table and getting straight to work.
After disposing of my wet padding, Simon wiped me up before pulling out an unmistakable, white bottle. It was baby powder, of course, and he sprinkled it generously on my midsection. Lastly, he pulled a fresh diaper out of my bag, slid it beneath me and taped it snugly in place. I blushed profusely the entire time, completely embarrassed by the situation. Despite this, I rather enjoyed the experience, though I'd never admit it to anyone but Simon himself.
"There ya go, a nice, fresh diaper," the chipmunk genius toyed. I couldn't help but smile.
"Thanks, Si," I replied. His cheeks turned pink at the sound of his nickname, but he accepted it nonetheless. Tugging my pants back into place, I hopped down from the table and followed him out of the bathroom.
"So, ready to be cured?" Simon asked. I hesitated before speaking again.
"Honestly… no," I admitted, "I… kinda like this." Thankfully, his smile never wavered.
"I thought you might say that," he revealed, "I never said anything, but I could tell you kind of liked being diapered." I blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day.
"Thanks for not laughing..." I almost whispered. Simon wrapped an arm around me, giving me a squeeze.
"Don't be embarrassed," he urged, "Come on, let's go through some of the booths before I have to sign autographs for an hour." Simon continued to keep me close as we went through some of the memorabilia and other booths. It was rather impressive what some people had managed to collect over the years. Eventually, though, the time came for Simon to fulfill his scheduled timeslot back at the autograph tent.
We separated with a hug, after which I left the tent to find a way of passing the time. I wound up finding an area where they were showing episodes of the old, 80's TV show on a large TV. I took a seat in the middle of Big Dreams, which I'd already seen, and promptly lost track of time as more episodes were shown. I was jolted back to reality by a hand suddenly grasping my shoulder. Turning, I saw Simon standing behind the couch, grinning under his hood.
"Enjoying the nostalgia?" he asked, "This certainly explains your tardiness." My heart almost stopped; what time was it, anyway?
"Sorry, Si," I apologized, standing hurriedly, "I guess I lost track of time." Simon gave me a one-armed squeeze as we left the screen area.
"It's alright; my session went long anyway," he assured me, "Come on, they're going to announce the contest winners soon." We headed towards the stage set up for the event, and upon arriving entered a closed-off area behind it. Spotting us, one of the stage hands gave a silent cue to none other than Simon's father figure, Ross Bagdasarian, Jr. I heard him speak a few, muffled words and then Alvin led another chipmunk onstage.
It seemed Alvin and the other triplets had gone undercover at the convention, and they all had chosen one person to remain a chipmunk for life. Each of them would lead their companion onstage, introduce them to the crowd, and explain why they'd chosen them. Brittany followed after Alvin, at which point it was Simon's and my turn. We walked onstage to a fair amount of applause, which died down before my love began his speech.
Naturally, the entire thing was a fake story to cover up the relationship that had blossomed between us. Homosexuality had yet to become widely accepted, so I wasn't at all surprised by my love's decision. Once he finished speaking, Simon led me off to the side of the stage by the four chipmunks who'd come before us. Next was Jeanette, and immediately I became intrigued as she was the first triplet to bring someone of the opposite gender onstage,
A blonde chipmunk with his headfur styled in a mullet, the green-eyed, young man bore a very suspicious resemblance to an online friend of mine. Not only that, but the same friend had developed a crush on Jeanette over the past few months. Breath caught in my throat as my focus returned to the caramel blonde standing at at the mic. I could barely believe my ears when she announced his name: Noah Jagers.
The remainder of the ceremony was a blur; my mind focusing on just how it was possible that Noah had made it here from California. Soon, it was all over, Simon and I were alone again, and the convention would be ending in a couple of hours. My love held me close as we made our way towards the exit, but I pulled away suddenly as I remembered a big problem my new form posed. I was too short to drive my car!
"Everything okay?" Simon asked, noticing my distress. I shook my head.
"No; I just realized I can't drive home!" I started. Simon pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me.
"I'll take care of it." His smooth, soft tone and calm demeanor immediately set me at ease.
"How?" I inquired. Simon wrapped an arm around me and lead me towards the doors.
"I've already got your car headed to a shop for modifications," he explained, "Tonight, you'll ride with me. I'll take you to dinner, and then home." I gave a meek nod.
"Okay, Si," I agreed. Like a child being led by his father, Simon brought me to the VIP lot where his Tesla Model S was parked. The electric car sparkled under a pearlescent paint job; predominantly a dark blue with black as the secondary color. My father had spoken of how quiet these cars were, but I was surprised at the near-silence inside the vehicle during motion. Simon let out a light chuckle as he steered the vehicle swiftly to the parking lot exit.
With help from the car's navigation system, Simon and I arrived at our chosen restaurant in no less than ten minutes. Once inside, we enjoyed a nice, relaxed conversation and a mutual, American favorite: In-N-Out Burger. Somehow, our hands wound up linked on the way home, leading to a light blush and a warm, fuzzy feeling. Finally, the greatest day of my life came to a close as the car slowed to a stop in front of my parents' house.
"Before you go, there's… something I want to ask," Simon spoke hesitantly, "Like you, I still live with my father, but... I'm planning on moving out. I was wondering if you'd… maybe… share an apartment with me?" I paused for a moment, thinking it over quickly.
"I would love to, Si," I answered, "However, money is an issue." Simon lightly squeezed my hand.
"No, it's not," he countered, "Thanks to my master's degree, I make a comfortable, five-digit salary. I can pay for everything if necessary." I managed a smile.
"Okay then; start looking."