Don't Be Such a Baby The Remote of Transformation chapter 19 by deleted_user

Brandon stood there in the middle of the living room, looking like a disappointed coat rack in an oversized black crop top and baggy yoga pants. His narrow shoulders were hunched, flat chest barely making a dent in the fabric, and his skinny legs looked like they belonged on a flamingo. The lack of curves made every dramatic gesture he tried look ridiculous.

“This is bullshit!” he snapped in that high-pitched, breathy voice that now sounded extra whiny coming from such a plain, stick-thin body. “I was having fun, Linda! You had no right to ruin my sexy hourglass just because you’re jealous of the attention!”

Linda smirked, still cradling her own massive tits with one arm while holding the remote in the other. “Jealous? Honey, I already got the premium package. You’re the one who turned into a damn broomstick. Deal with it.”

That was the last straw.

Brandon’s green eyes narrowed. He lunged forward on his skinny legs, bony arm shooting out. “Give me that!”

His fingers closed around the remote at the exact same moment Linda tried to pull it back. For a split second they were locked in a ridiculous tug-of-war — flat-chested Brandon versus stacked, cranky Linda.

In the heat of the moment, Brandon’s brain supplied only one furious thought: Don’t be such a baby!

The remote, still aimed directly at Linda, chirped happily and fired. Baby. Blue light engulfed the landlady.

Linda’s eyes widened. “What the fu— oh no you did NOT—”

The change was instantaneous and merciless.

Her voluptuous twenty-something body shrank rapidly, limbs shortening, curves collapsing inward. Massive tits deflated like punctured balloons, wide hips narrowed, thick ass flattened. In seconds she was no taller than a toddler — a chubby, adorable baby girl with the same platinum blonde hair now in soft baby curls, big blue eyes, and a tiny button nose. A fluffy pink onesie with little cartoon ducks had replaced her torn clothes, complete with a bulging diaper around her padded bottom. She wobbled on tiny legs for a moment before plopping down hard on her diapered butt with a soft poof.

But her face… her expression was pure adult outrage. Those big baby eyes narrowed into a familiar scowl, and when she opened her mouth, Linda’s gravelly, seventy-year-old trailer-trash voice came out in full force — just squeakier and higher-pitched.

“You stupid little shit!” she shrieked, waving her chubby baby arms wildly. “What the hell did you do?! I’m a goddamn baby! Look at me — I’ve got a fuckin’ diaper on! These tiny hands can’t even hold a beer! Change me back right this second!”

Brandon stared down at the angry infant version of his landlady, still gripping the remote, his flat chest heaving with annoyance. “Oh my god… Linda, you look ridiculous. This is what you get for zapping me into a stick! I said ‘don’t be a baby’ and the remote took it literally. Serves you right for ruining my fun!”

Vince was laughing so hard he was doubled over, his massive cock still tenting his shorts as tears streamed down his face. “Holy fuck! Mrs. H is a pissed-off toddler! Look at that little diaper butt! This is the best thing that’s ever happened!”

From the hallway, the bathroom door creaked open. Paul stepped out, still flushed and adjusting his hoodie, only to freeze at the sight of a angry baby girl in a pink onesie sitting on the floor yelling obscenities in Linda’s voice while Brandon stood there looking like a disappointed scarecrow.

“Uh… what did I miss?”

The remote hummed in Brandon’s now-slender hand, screen reading Target acquired: Linda (baby mode).

Linda kicked her tiny legs furiously, face red with rage. “Somebody better fix this right fuckin’ now or I’m gonna start screamin’ until the neighbors call CPS!”