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Technologically Inept

by foow

Technologically Inept

I never thought that my technical ineptness would cause so much damage. I mean, I knew that I would avoid any job that involved computers and machines--it wasn't like I was planning on working for NASA or as an air traffic controller--but I never figured that my inability to work a fraking iPod would ruin dozens of others' lives. All I wanted to do was regress. Go back to a simpler time, experience being a kid or a baby again, and be carefree. My college classes were killing me, and the prospect of a job seemed bleak. Really, what I wouldn't've done to be two years old again.

When I found some hypnotic files online, I thought I'd maybe found a chance to do just that. The site seemed to know what it was talking about, and the other users certainly had good things to say about the MP3s I was looking at, so I downloaded a few and added them to my iPod Touch. They were all focused on mental regression and a bit of bladder and bowel loss--the typical baby stuff--and they were fun to listen to, but it took me too long to get into a trance, and after an hour or so I didn't feel any different. I was too alert and awake. I had to put myself in a position when I was already losing consciousness, and then start listening. That would do it for me.

The perfect opportunity came to me in a Physics tutorial on a Friday afternoon. That class could have put Death to sleep. The prof was at least 200 years old, and was as excited about the material as most men are about a prostate exam. Anyone who could keep their eyes open through the whole two hours was a hero. A legend. It was physically impossible. It was perfect.

I showed up on a dreary, rainy afternoon to find another twenty-or-so exhausted students sitting in the hard wooden desks. I took my seat and pulled my iPod from my bag. The files were in their own playlist--labelled "Favourite Beats," just in case anyone looked. As the prof took to the chalkboard to write down whatever ancient equation he wanted to rehash, I hit play and began to listen. The file played in my ears, barely audible and very deep in tone. I had the whole thing planned out--I'd listen to it and get into a good trance, then go home and allow myself to be fully regressed. Then I'd have the whole weekend to be back in diapers and drinking from a bottle.

But as I said, I suck with technology. Hell, I just suck in general. For some reason, maybe it was the rain, I was more alert. I actually cared what was on the board. I couldn't not focus. So I actually took notes for the first time in that class, hoping that eventually I'd lose interest. It never happened. If anything, the equations were cool. I liked learning about them. I was taking the most detailed notes I'd ever written, and finding the professor captivating. It was weird.

So was it the file? Maybe I'd downloaded the wrong one, and actually was listening to something that was supposed to fix my brain? Nope. I was listening to one hell of the regression file. And so were all the other students.

Yes, see, the iPod Touch has a built-in speaker that will play whatever file is chosen if the headphones aren't plugged in all the way. Unsurprisingly, I hadn't plugged the headphones in all the way, but I didn't notice it. So the slow, deep, low file was playing for the whole class--the whole tired, unfocused class--to listen to. They just didn't realize it. Neither did I, at first, because I was writing so furiously.

The first thing I noticed was the thumbs going into the mouths. It started with a few of the boys sitting closest to me, then spread to the rest of the class. None of them seemed to know they were doing it--they just sat there, slumped on the desk, sucking their thumbs happily. Then came some yawning and drooling, but that happens in my other classes too. At that point, a new file switched on, this one about the loss of bodily functions. Boy did that become noticeable quickly. Big wet stains on people's blue jeans, some really loud flatulence, and the smell. Oh sweet mercy, the smell. I was gagging, everyone else was babbling incoherently and letting waste flow out of their systems. It took the prof about ten minutes to see something was wrong, but by the time he moved to action and ambulances arrived, it was far too late. Those college students were reduced to drooling, crying for their mommies, wetting and messing themselves, and having no language abilities. The paramedics, and then doctors, were baffled, and I'm surprised they weren't suspicious of me, since I was the only student who hadn't changed. I think they expected the kids to change back, but I wasn't holding my breath. After all, the file was marked "Permanent" for a reason.

Alas, the class was cancelled and I was given an automatic A+, which I'm now convinced my extremely-detailed notes would have earned anyway. Not that I'm upset. I dug through the website a bit more and found some other files, these ones designed to turn the listener into a flesh-craving nymphomaniac. See, there's this really cute girl in another class of mine. And it's boring as hell.


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