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Veemon nervously trembled in his seat as he sat in the lonely waiting

room of the therapist's office. It was the poor thing's first time

visiting the place, and he didn't know what to expect. It was a place he

never thought he'd find himself, but his circumstances demanded it.

Intrusive thoughts plagued his mind; fear and anxiety were giving way to

paranoia, and Veemon was beginning to fear he was going completely

crazy. Worse, he was beginning to shy away from his friends and family

because of it. He could no longer trust anyone, and it was destroying

his life! But although he knew he was thinking irrationally, he knew

there was logic behind his madness - and it was hard to calm himself.

A series of kidnappings in Shibuya had him on edge, and he feared he

could be the next victim. Digimon were being abducted from their

tamers, and returned completely different than how they were when they

left - and no one knew why it was happening. One day they were perfectly

normal, then they were gone - only to come back a week later with a new

strange mentality. It was like they were like infants again! When

they'd return to their tamers, they'd be crawling around, cooing and

giggling happily, sucking on pacifiers, wearing diapers, and just simply

being infantile in all ways imaginable. They didn't have any memory of

what happened, and no one knew how this was even possible! It seemed

ridiculous, but it was true.

Veemon hardly paid any attention in the beginning - but after what

had happened to Patamon, he began to panic. It terrified him to know

that someone was doing such a scary thing, and he was growing so fearful

that it was quickly getting the best of him. His tamer was supposed to

be the courageous one of the group, but now... now the poor thing was

becoming so anxious that he was becoming paranoid, and his fear was

overwhelming him so much that he could hardly function. He didn't think

he needed help... but a flyer in the mail had changed his mind.

Of course he'd thought it was ridiculous, at first. Then it began to

hit him; there were a group of humans trying to do research into the

brains of Digimon in the human world. They were apparently fully

licensed and trained, and with their knowledge of psychology; well,

Digimon were made by humans, so methods used to help humans should work

to help him, right? At first, he was reluctant to believe it was

necessary, but here he was - impatiently waiting in the lobby, hoping

for the best. Would it hurt to talk about it? To get a second opinion;

to at least have someone he could tell his fears to without being

judged?

"Veemon! The doctor will see you now!" he heard.

The blue Digimon flinched lightly at the sudden disturbance in the

otherwise silent waiting room before quickly rising from his seat.

Reluctantly, he followed the friendly looking secretary past the front

desk and into the back offices. Veemon navigated through narrow hallways

lined with locked doors, generic office wall art, and fake plants - but

although it was all very confusing, the secretary led him straight

through to the therapist's office. They both stopped at a door, and he

nervously played with his fingers as the secretary quickly smirked in

his direction - as if a comfortable way of letting him know everything

was going to be okay.

The secretary knocked on the door, and a moment later, a tall, slim

man opened the door. He knelt down and smiled at the Digimon, who was

only a couple feet tall. It was like a grown adult was greeting a child,

and it somehow made Veemon feel smaller than he actually was.

"Hello there, Veemon! Come on in, and take a seat" the man greeted.

Veemon nodded and uttered out a bit of a 'thank you,' before walking

deeper into the office and sitting down on a large, comfy chair. The

room was well kept and comfortable; it had a warm tone about it, though

something still seemed eerily off. The man seemed friendly and

welcoming, but Veemon was still nervous about everything. It would take a

whole lot more than a friendly greeting to earn his trust!

"Veemon, what brings you into my office today?" the therapist asked as he sat down.

Veemon nervously sat down in the chair and continued to toy with his

hands as he began to think of a way to explain his emotions. He

certainly wasn't the emotional type, but in this situation, he was

required to figure out a way to convert feelings and thoughts to speech.

It was difficult, and he found himself at a lost for words.

"Erm... I don't really know w-where to begin," Veemon nervously

began, squirming awkwardly in his seat, malcontent with his mental

state.

"On the telephone you mentioned you were having problems coping with

stress, and that you were having troubling thoughts. Let's start

there," the therapist suggested. He smiled warmly down at Veemon.

"Well, erm... I'm- um, it's kind of hard to talk about," Veemon

sighed, rubbing the back of his head nervously. It was painful to be

this shy!

He felt so stupid and awkward, being put on the spot. He never truly

confessed to anyone why he was so scared - but of course he was sure

that even his tamer knew. Veemon knew the source of his stress and his

anxiety, but it tore him up to admit that he thought he might be the

next victim - he was supposed to be courageous. Now... he wasn't so sure.

"Just relax and take your time" the therapist instructed, leaning

back in his chair. His right leg crossed his left as he gave Veemon

another warm smile, if a bit clinical.

The Digimon sighed and nodded his head understandingly, and took a

moment to collect himself before continuing on his embarrassing mental

trek.

"Well... have you heard of the kidnappings that've been happening

recently?" Veemon asked, his head tilting a little to the left.

"I have, yes," the therapist confirmed, nodding his head and taking a

nearby notepad from the desk. Veemon could see the therapist was

already jotting down notes even though they had hardly spoken, and he

wondered just what the man was seeing that was noteworthy.

"I-I... I'm scared I might become the next victim" Veemon admitted -

his face burning from embarrassment. Although he felt butterflies in

his chest, he knew he was doing the right thing by admitting his

problem.

"Veemon, that is nothing to be ashamed of - I want you to know that.

But let's figure out exactly what scares you about this" the therapist

sincerely stated.

"Well... I'm supposed to be courageous, I'm supposed to be strong,

fight evil, that sort of thing! How could I do that if I become some...

some infant! I... I would be a letdown to everyone! And what would they

think of me?!" his heart raced and he swallowed hard.

Simply thinking about it was putting Veemon on the verge of an

anxiety attack, but the therapist looked right through it and shook his

head.

"So you're concerned that... if this person were to somehow choose

you, you'd let down other people? You don't want to disappoint anyone

because you feel responsible?" the therapist asked, still writing notes

down.

"Well yeah, I mean... even my tamer is supposed to be courageous! How

could I let something like that happen to me? I'm the strong Digimon of

the group, I'm the one who everyone has to rely on! It's my job... my

duty," Veemon justified.

The therapist nodded his head.

"Any other concerns? Surely this fear is deeper than just others'

dependencies on you" the man admitted, waving his hands in the air as if

he were talking with them.

"I don't know... I guess. I just... erm... it's just so scary that

someone out there is... doing something so terrible and cruel, for no

reason!" Veemon explained. It felt good to get off his chest.

"Well, let's look at the reality of the situation as we know it.

This person that's out there... he's not necessarily doing anything

cruel. These Digimon have no memory of what happened, and no sign of

harm" the therapist pointed out.

"B-But how do we know their memories aren't gone because of what

happened? A-A-And how can you say it's not cruel to be kidnapped, and

come back like how they are? Th-They're practically babies again! And

they... they have no memories of any of it! They can't remember

anything. It's as if their whole lives have been erased" Veemon

elaborated.

"Hm... I don't see it that way, Veemon. They still remember their

tamers quite well. The victims have shown plenty signs of self-awareness

and, given the limitations of their mental state - have proven that

they still associate a lot of things with memories from before being

kidnapped. What is peculiar is that many of them seem to be... actually

quite content in their new mentality" the therapist continued.

Veemon slowly stopped playing with his fingers, and he looked up at

the therapist. Was he really justifying what was happening to the

Digimon in Shibuya? Was this professional truly attempting to shine a

silver lining on such a terrible situation? It irritated Veemon a bit,

and it flared his anxiety. But he did his best to maintain his composure

and continue the session. He was a doctor, after all, and the optimism

was an interesting perspective to hear.

"How would they be happier like that? I-I-I had a friend who was

kidnapped. They came back a week later and it was like they were a baby.

They needed to be fed and cared for all the time. They even needed to

wear and use diapers! It seemed like every time their tamer tried taking

them out of it, they'd just start crying and demanding to be put back!"

Veemon argued.

"But your friend was as happy as could be before their tamer was

trying to force anything on them, right? I mean... surely, a child's

perspective on the world is a brighter, happier, and less stressful

place. Entertainment comes easier... you'd get cared for, and you'd

never need to ever worry about responsibility or dealing with the real

world" the therapist continued.

"I... don't... see it that way. I see it like someone is stealing

them and forcing something on them, and their tamers are losing a friend

because they come back completely different" Veemon argued.

"They're not different. The way they see the world, and the way the

world sees them - is the only thing that changes, Veemon," the therapist

coldly stated.

A lump began to build in Veemon's throat. Something didn't feel

right to him, and he couldn't ignore his paranoia any longer. As the

therapist looked towards him, a chill went down his spine. He no longer

seemed friendly or trustworthy, and the therapist's stare began to make

Veemon feel uncomfortable. Something definitely didn't seem right

anymore... and Veemon had had enough.

"I'm going to go," Veemon said; but it was in vain. The therapist

suddenly stood up, his eyes flashing a deep, crimson color. Before

Veemon could exit the office, two green, muscular Ogremon came stumbling

in and blocked his way out.

"Where do you think you're goin', bub?" the first one dumbly said.

Veemon staggered back, tripping over his own two feet and onto the

floor. At once, before the Digimon could react - he was quickly lifted

up and placed in the chair!

"Veemon, Veemon. Did you really think you were going to escape so

easily?" the therapist clucked his tongue, his mouth curling into a

cynical smile.

He removed his coat and before Veemon could do anything more, he watched

in horror as the therapist quickly began to shift form. Suddenly, he

was no longer the friendly therapist Veemon thought he knew, but was now

the vampiric Myotismon; a cruel fiend from the not-so-distant past. The

master of darkness, one who sought to destroy the world, who would

often take control of others using his dark spores, seeds which would

seep into and sulk inside of a being until they were twisted to his

will. Suddenly all became clear; this wasn't a set of random

kidnappings.

It was a plot to take over the world. Through regression.

"Damn..." Veemon gasped under his breath.

Veemon was helplessly held in place by the diabolical virus Digimon. He

struggled to get free - but they were much too large and too strong for

him to escape. He was trapped!

"Oh come now, Veemon. Did you really not expect this? Did you really not

realize that you were next? Oh, but you did; but instead of seeking you

out and stealing you in the night like I did to your friends, I let you

walk right into my trap. Now hold still..." Myotismon evilly instructed.

Veemon watched in horror as Myotismon reached into his cloak and pulled

out a small, strange object; it almost looked like a seed - like a

spore, but it was somehow different. It had a pale, almost pastel blue

tint to it. Before Veemon could even think about using his V-Headbutt to

counter the incoming spore, Myotismon brought the evil creation to

Veemon's forehead. But no matter how much he struggled the spore sunk

into his head, and then into his brain...

"Ah!" Veemon whined as he felt the spore sink deeply into his head.

His whole forehead burned horribly, and his whole skull instantly

throbbed like the worst migraine he had ever felt in his life. Veemon

struggled against his captors to stop the horrible attack, but they held

him still as the spore sunk deeper and deeper inside of him. Panicking,

he could only tremble and stare around as he was forced to take the

spore inside.

"W-What are you doing!? S-Stop!" Veemon argued.

But his captors only chuckled like the villains they were.

"Don't worry little Veemon. You won't remember any of this," Myotismon cackled.

"You won't get away with this!" Veemon shouted! Of course, his warning fell on deaf ears.

"Quickly you insolent whelps; get a diaper on him before he makes a mess on my expensive furniture," Myotismon commanded.

"No!" Veemon whined, struggling to the best of his abilities as he tried to yell as loud as he could.

"And would someone get something to keep him quiet? I can hardly hear myself think!" the villain concluded.

In only a few moments, Veemon's shouts and screams were instantly

muffled. An overwhelmingly large pacifier was shoved deep into his mouth

and held in place by a strap that was fastened tightly around his head.

Next, with the larger of the two Ogremon holding him in place, he

watched in horror as the other approached him with a big, poofy diaper

that seemed just his size.

"Come here little guy!" the Ogremon teased with a menacing chuckle, his eyes narrow and focused on his task.

Without thought of recourse, Veemon tried to V-Punch the incoming

Ogremon, but was still held down by the other. He tried to V-Headbutt,

but that wouldn't work, either. He had no ranged attacks; he was

defenseless! The Ogremon held Veemon's legs tightly, and lifted them up

just enough to slide the diaper underneath his butt. Squirming and

wriggling about, Veemon continued to fight and resist - and although the

Ogremon had diapered plenty of Digimon like this before, Veemon was

proving difficult to subdue...

As he forced his body in all directions, Veemon managed to get one of

his arms free - and he quickly tossed a fist towards the Ogremon with

the diaper. The ruffian stumbled back as the fist slammed into him!

"Agh!" the Ogremon shouted.

But his attack wasn't enough to win the battle. The other Ogremon had

him firmly in place, and the antagonist he attacked was quick to

recover.

"Grah! This little baby needs mittens if he's gonna keep throwing a tantrum!" Veemon heard.

Suddenly, the diapering was put on hold as the two Ogremon worked

together to secure his fists with mittens. One after another, he felt

his hands quickly get trapped by thick mittens that became tied tightly

around his wrists - rendering his hands useless. They reminded Veemon of

soft boxing gloves, and he knew that if he managed to throw another

attack, it would be harmless. With no fine motor skills to take

advantage of, he now truly felt trapped.

"Go ahead, Veemon! Fight! Wear yourself out. It'll only make this part

much easier..." Myotismon exclaimed - dangling a pocket watch in the air.

Without any hesitation, an Ogremon picked up the diaper and resumed

putting it on Veemon. The Digimon's muffled shouts and the exasperations

of a scuffle provided background noise to the overwhelmingly loud sound

of crinkling and tapes tearing as Veemon continued to get diapered. As

the two Ogremon worked together to wrap the diaper around Veemon,

Myotismon simply watched with a sinister smile on his face - playing

with the pocket watch. Veemon tried so hard to slither from his chair,

but all he managed to do was tire himself out.

"Let me explain to you what is about to happen. I know you're the curious, simple type," Myotismon started.

The two Ogremon quickly pulled Veemon back onto the chair and held him

firmly in place. With his head held steadily to face Myotismon, all

Veemon could do was huff and puff from behind his pacifier angrily. His

eyes glared defiantly at the cackling Myotismon. This wasn't the first

time that the two had met face to face; the last time he'd seen him he

was MaloMyotismon, and he was being shot back to the digital world by

the power of the worlds' digidestined; now he was back, working in the

shadows, about to transform him.

"That spore that's in your brain is going to make you oh so suggestible," Myotismon began.

"And because you're so gullible, you're going to do exactly as I say -

and you won't be able to resist. Even if you try to, you will not

succeed. That little spore is going to make me be able to hypnotize you

down, and when you're in a trance - I'll make you a little baby again! A

baby who very much loves his diapers, and very much hates being a big

boy. When I send you back, you're not going to remember all of this. All

you will remember is how to be the very best baby Digimon a tamer could

ever have" Myotismon explained.

Veemon shook his head, but the villain only chuckled.

"Look boss, he's drooling!" one of the Ogremon teased.

Spit was drooling out of the sides of his mouth and through the

pacifier's spitholes from Veemon's harsh muffle panting. Myotismon

scoffed as if from disgust, and he shook his head.

"You're practically a baby already! You're wearing a big, poofy diaper,

and you're sucking on a big pacifier in that drooly mouth of yours. And

you sure can't use your hands anymore. You'll need us to do everything

for you! See? This shouldn't be too hard," Myotismon teased.

Veemon couldn't help but blush. As angry as he was, he couldn't help but

feel embarrassed by how small he was made to feel, as he was forced

into this treatment. The diaper was so poofy; it made him feel as though

he was sitting up an inch from the chair! It was itchy, hot, and

uncomfortable to him. Worse, the pacifier tasted like rubber and was

awkward to fit in his mouth. He couldn't spit it out and the nipple made

it impossible to properly close his mouth.

"Now look closely and pay attention. This'll all be over soon" Myotismon began.

The two Ogremon held his head still, and the villain began waving the

pocketwatch in place. Veemon was forced to watch, and with his captor

speaking loud and clear - he couldn't help but hear the instructions.

Myotismon began to speak to Veemon slowly and clearly, careful to hold

the swinging pocket watch in front of Veemon. The Digimon instinctively

followed it with his eyes. Worse, even if Veemon closed his eyes, the

sound of Myotismon's voice echoed loudly in his skull. He could feel the

spore in his mind listening closely.

"You are a diaper-boy Digimon. You love your diapers, you want your

diapers, you need your diapers. You want their thickness... you want their

crinkles. All you can think about is how much you want and need your

thick, crinkly diapers; nothing else will do!" Myotismon gleemed into

Veemon's eyes slowly open and watched as they began to haze.

It was almost instantaneous. The spore in his head began to throb as it

heard Myotismon's voice, and it made it nearly impossible to ignore his

instructions. It was as if the villain was speaking not to Veemon, but

to the Digimon's very subconscious. Veemon soon found himself unable to

resist following the pocket watch and being dragged further and further

down. A sinking feeling came over Veemon - a step further down with each

swing of the watch, and with each step down, his captor's voice became

louder and clearer.

"That's it, relax... listen to the words that I speak. Tell me, Veemon, what are you?"

"A... Digimon..." Veemon started. Myotismon looked intently into his eyes

for a moment before something, somewhere in his head clicked. "I'm a...

diaper... boy Digimon?"

"That's right, my little play-thing, you're a diaper-boy Digimon. What

do you like?" Myotismon used his hand to graze Veemon's diaper area.

A warm blanket sensation came over him. No other sound in the room could

be heard in the room now. Was it always this quiet in the room, or

could he only hear the voice now? In fact, it seemed as if he couldn't

even hear himself think anymore; Myotismon's voice was so strong and

powerful that it began to replace the voice in his own head. He was

deeply subdued now, and Myotismon had complete control.

"I like... thick diapers..." Veemon responded dumbly. Veemon began to

grapple with the diaper beneath him, squirming a bit as he made it

crinkle, cooing a little contently. Yes, this was what he wanted, what

he needed. Why was it such a big deal before?

"That's right, little Veemon. You're so little... think back to the

Primary Village, to when you'd just hatched from your Digiegg. Remember

how little you were, how you had no cares or worries, how all you had to

do was wear your nice, crinkly diapers... suck on your pacifier,"

Myotismon added in.

Veemon began to remember... or perhaps it was just the suggestions that

Myotismon was planting in him. The spore was doing its job, allowing the

hypnosis to work its wonders on him in a profound manner. "You would

suckle so softly... so gently... it felt so nice, didn't it? Yes, it did,"

Myotismon concluded.

Veemon seemed to come to the very same conclusion. He suddenly

remembered the soft feelings of the pacifier teat on his tongue, the

gentle caress of the hard-plastic pacifier on his lips; he remembered

exactly how it soothed him. Suddenly, the pacifier in his mouth didn't

seem so bad... not bad at all, actually. The rubbery taste wasn't so bad

once he got used to it; and, come to think of it, it actually fit his

mouth fairly well.

"And how about this diaper between your legs, hm? How do we feel about this big poofy diaper you're wearing?" Veemon heard.

He felt so absent minded, and it seemed now the only word that

interested him was the word "diaper". He instinctively looked down and

wriggled around in the warm, soft, comfortable interior of the thick

padding that supported him. He suddenly felt a giggle escape from him,

and the crinkling seemed so satisfying. He felt so excited now, to be in

the comfort of that diaper - and he could only think to bounce up and

down for Myotismon to express his enthusiasm.

Myotismon grinned. Before him sat an infantile, regressed Veemon,

suckling happily on his pacifier and squirming contently in his thick,

crinkly diaper. His hands and feet were mittened, they may as well of

been nubs. It wasn't like he could use his fingers very well anymore,

anyway. Of course, this was what he was wanting; exactly what he needed.

He needed Veemon out of the way; and now he was!

He was regressed and useless to anyone now, his will was broken. He

would do whatever Myotismon wanted; but Myotismon wanted him to do

nothing more than to be a good diapered Digimon, to suckle through the

days and nights and crinkle as he toddled along. He smirked as the

happily oblivious Veemon idly fidgeted in his seat like the overgrown

toddler he now was.

"Well, it seems that my work here is done, little Veemon. You're nothing

more than a mere infant; I already know who'll be next. But of course

you don't much care, do you?" he waited for a response, but Veemon was

lost in his own little world of diapers and pacifiers.

"Of course not. Now, a quick test..." Myotismon undid the strap of

Veemon's paci gag and quickly plucked the pacifier out of his mouth.

Almost instantaneously, Veemon began to whine... then whimper... then sob,

throwing a fit!

"NO! I WANT MY PACI! MINE!" he cried aloud. Myotismon obliged, shoving the pacifier back into Veemon's mouth.

Surely, Myotismon wasn't evil enough to steal the soothing comfort from the helpless baby Veemon in front of him!

"Of course, little Digimon, of course. One last test, then..." Myotismon

then untaped Veemon's diaper and ripped it off of him. Just as with the

pacifier, Veemon began to whine, whimper and cry about the sudden loss

of plush beneath him! Myotismon cackled, but decided to give into

Veemon's uncontrollable, insatiable urge for padding when he actually

started crying.

This time, he himself repowdered and retaped a fresh, thick diaper onto

the blue vaccine Digimon's waist, concluding his tests. As the light

outside of the office dimmed, he knew that night was falling, and when

the darkness moved, so would he; and he would return the infant Veemon

back to his home to become his tamer's responsibility.

"Take him into the room with the others" Myotismon commanded.

Without a second's hesitation, the two Ogremon scooped up the overgrown

baby Veemon and began to carry him out of the room.. Of course, the

oblivious Digimon simply stared about in amazement at his surroundings;

now all so mysterious to him. Where was he, and where was he going?

Everything seemed so new and exciting, yet so strangely familiar - and

it was this familiarity that made the world around him so intriguing.

As the two Ogremon led him into a room, his eyes widened as he saw so

many other Digimon just like him! A whole room filled with babyish

Digimon - crawling around happily in their diapers, playing with

friends, drinking from baby bottles and sippy cups, and taking naps in

their cribs! It was a whole playroom just for him and friends - some of

which he recognized from a time he could not currently remember. For the

first time in an extremely long time, Veemon felt safe and secure here.

The fear that got him here was now long gone!

Of course, there were ways to break Myotismon's trance, but it would

take time. Veemon's mind was not lost to the regression, but he simply

was left in a different way of thinking. What was there to be afraid of,

anymore? The world was so new and exciting to him. Happiness and

laughter would come easier now. He felt no anxiety or fear any longer,

and his ignorance filled him with bliss. Deep down inside, he knew he

would be soon returning to his tamer as a new and improved Veemon - a

Veemon that could be happy, and carefree like Davis would want. Veemon

couldn't wait to be the good diaper-boy Digimon he was told to be, and

he knew it was only a matter of time until he was home again.