Daddy Bear

Daddy Bear
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2001

I was going through some old files, and I found this story that, apparently, I never posted. It's on the perils of internet predators -- or, maybe, the peril to internet predators, and I’m not sure if it’s out of date. Please let me know what you think of it.

* * * * *

> Hi, this is DaddyBear. Are any of my little honeybears in the chatroom tonite?

Hi, DaddyBear, this is Swee-Tart.

> Hi, Swee-Tart, how U doing?

Not 2 good DaddyBear. My 'rents won't let me go to the big concert at school tomorrow nite.

> That's not fair. What's their problem?

They say it gets out 2 late. I have a curfew.

> Now what do U need a curfew 4? You're almost a grown-up.

Yeah, I'll be 14 next month. But they say midnight is 2 late 2 be out.

> I think U should go. I wish I was there. I'd take U.

You would?

> Sure I would. Just like a date.

4 real? I'm not allowed to date on school nights.

> That's silly for a big girl like my Swee-Tart. Sure, a date.

Wow.

> Yes. I'd even get some new clothes so I could take U in style.

Wow!

> Yeah, U could get new clothes, 2. If I was there I'd buy U some.

You would?

> Yes. What kind of clothes do U like to wear?

I don't know, all kinds.

> What are U wearing now?

Well, it's kind of late, so I'm ready 4 bed.

> Are U in PJs, Swee-Tart?

No, I've just got on my panties and a t-shirt.

> What color are the panties? And the shirt?

The shirt is from my school. It's dark green, with a yellow dragon`.

> What about the panties? What color are they?

They're yellow 2. They're a new pair I just got.

> I bet U look real pretty. I wish U could send me a picture of how U look.

Maybe soon. I saw a thing that U can put on a PC and it sends out pictures just like a TV camera.

> Oh boy! And I promise that the Swee-Tart show will be my favorite. I can see U in all your pretty clothes and panties and stuff.

That sounds so cool. But it costs $400.

> Maybe I could send U some money. No that wouldn't work.

Why not?

> How would U explain it to your 'rents? They don't even know that we're friends. Do they?

No. I could tell them.

> NO

What's the matter?

> Some parents don't like it when their kids have adult friends.

Why not?

> They get jealous because we can talk about stuff and they can't.

You mean cause they yell when I try to tell them stuff I'm doing?

> Yeah, like that. They just want to push U around. Punish U. Not me. DaddyBear loves Swee-Tart.

I wish I could be with U instead of them.

> Maybe U can. Where do U live?

Eynon Ridge.

> I know that place. Can U get to the park over by Pinehurst?

I think so. There's a bus that goes there.

> Good. You pack a bag and meet me there at 1 on Saturday. Can U be there?

Where? It's a big park.

> Do U know the picnic grove, over at the north end of the park?

Yeah, but nobody goes there this time of year.

> That's why I suggested it. You can come and we can talk and then U can come live with me.

Wow. Nobody ever offered anything like that. Wait till I tell my friend Dannie.

> NO

What's the matter?

> Don't tell anybody. Don't leave a note. That way, your 'rents won't be able to find U and make U go back with them.

What should I bring?

> Bring a bunch of clothes. Pretty, grown-up stuff so DaddyBear will be proud of his Swee-Tart. Lots of pretty bras and panties 2.

Anything else?

> Do U have any money? DaddyBear has lots of love for his Swee-Tart, but I'm not rich.

I've got $300 saved up for summer.

> Bring it. If U can get some of your mother's jewelry and stuff bring that 2. She owes U 4 being so mean 2 U.

I think that's enough, DaddyBear. Or should I say, Douglas Oakes.

> Who are U and how do U know my name?

I know a lot. I know that you're a predator, Mr. Oakes. Just how many girls have you lured, raped, and robbed? If I were really Swee-Tart, I'd have been the 4th, wouldn't I? Well, it's over.

* * * * *

"Shit!" Doug Oakes didn't wait to log off. He just shut off his PC at the surge protector.

Somebody was on to him. He pushed the shade aside and looked out the window of his apartment. There was no sign of any cops, but who knew how long that would be the case. He got up and ran over to the closet of the efficiency apartment he'd called home the past three years.

The closet was different somehow. A light went on when he opened the door. And his clothes - they were gone. The closet was filled with girl's clothes, dresses and skirts, even a few blouses on hangers. There was a big rack on the back of the door filled with over a dozen pairs of shoes, flats, sandals, a few low heels, and a couple pair of sneakers.

There was a suitcase on the shelf above the hanger bar. It wasn't his beat up old case, but a smaller pink thing with little blue swirls. Still, a suitcase was a suitcase. He reached up for up, wondering as he did why the shelf was suddenly so much higher than he remembered? He grabbed it and pulled it down. Then he turned to put it on the couch near the closet.

The apartment was - different. Brighter. Smaller. The brown wooden paneling was now covered with a blue-green wallpaper covered with tiny flowers. He turned to toss the little suitcase on his bed. The brown blanket changed as he watched, becoming a thick green comforter with a flowered pattern. The pillow split in two, both of them now in matching pillowcases.

The colors seemed to bleed of onto the small dresser by his bed. It grew longer, almost twice its original size. Doug pulled open a drawer, the one he'd kept his underwear in. It was still full of underwear, but not his. He saw a tangle of panties, girl's undershirts, and a few A-cup bras. The balled up socks were all bright colors now, and a few pair looked more like rolled up hose. What was going on?

He looked around. The room was definitely changing, definitely smaller. There was a wall about where his dinner table had been, cutting the apartment down to about half its original size now. It wasn't much bigger than a regular bedroom.

"What the hell is happening," he asked out loud.

"It's called punishment, Doug." He looked around. The voice was coming from his PC. Or from what had been his PC. It was much smaller now, a basic rig instead of the big rig he'd bought with the money from that first girl. It was sitting on a desk along with some schoolbooks and papers.

There was a corkboard on the wall next to it. The wide living room window was now a small single pain of glass, the gray curtain shrunken to fit and changed to a frilly green one held back by a couple of matching cords trimmed in lace. The view from the window showed a suburban back yard instead of a car-filled parking lot.

"Punishment? What are you talking about?"

Somehow the PC was back on. There was a face on the screen, an old man with a white beard. "Punishment, Doug, for what you did to those poor girls."

"This is crazy." He walked over and pulled the PC's plug out of the surge protector.

"That won't help." The old man was still there. Doug could see that he was wearing some sort of blue robe. "This PC is being powered by my magic now, not by electricity."

"Magic? There is no such thing."

"No, eh? Well, if changing the room won't convince you, maybe this will."

A bolt of electric blue light shot out of the screen and enveloped Doug. His entire body began to tingle. He looked down at himself. He was shrinking, growing thinner. He looked at the mirror that suddenly appeared on what had been his front door. He looked like a kid, no more than fourteen or fifteen wearing his father's clothes. Geez, he'd been a skinny little wimp.

Now, as he watched his pants slid down past his narrow hips, but instead of falling to the floor, they grew faint, transparent and disappeared. He looked down. His shoes were gone, too, and his black socks were now a pair of floppy blue slippers.

His legs looked different, too. They were hairless, and they seemed to be smoothing out, the muscles disappearing into a smooth sleekness. His hips were swelling becoming rounded. His boxers shrank down to become tight against his skin. His penis and balls felt the tightness of the material for a moment, then it was gone. No! They were gone. He reached in under his now oversized sweatshirt. He felt silky panties instead of cotton underpants, and beneath them, there was nothing more than the vertical slit of a female barely covered with a patch of curly hair.

He felt his waist constrict as the change seemed to flow up his body. His sweatshirt was changing, too. Its sleeves moved up his arms, stopping about halfway between his elbow and shoulder. The material thinned and changed color. It was now green, the Penn State logo changing into a yellow dragon. A yellow dragon, why did that seem familiar?

As he stared at the new design, he saw it push out slightly. He pulled the shirt away from his chest and looked down through the collar. He saw two small breasts, A-cup, nipples erect and pointing outward.

"This is totally...." He stopped. His voice was higher now, a girlish soprano with more than a trace of a child still in it. He shook his head in disbelief and felt hair brushing against his neck.

There was some kind of small table and chair where his recliner had been, a make-up table with a lighted mirror. Doug stared in the mirror. He saw a young girl, fifteen at most. She had a round face with the sort of high cheekbones that promise to become those of a beautiful woman. His eyes were green now with long lashes. His hair was dark brown. It was brushed back from his face, held in place with a couple of small barrettes, and it hung down to just below his shoulders. It looked good, and he smiled at the effect.

"What am I doing," he all but screamed. He turned back to the PC, grabbing the monitor with both hands. "You change me back, old man. Change me back, now."

"Change you back? Let you be 'DaddyBear' again to prey on more young girls. I think not. You were so fond of your little 'Honeybears' that your punishment is that you get to be one for the rest of your life."

There was a knock on the door, and the image faded. "What?" Then he felt his head spin as a flood of new memories swarmed into his brain.

The door opened, out into the hall. A woman in her late thirties was standing there. She had a bit of gray in her hair, but otherwise looked so very much like the young girl that Doug had become that she had to be....

"Mom? What is it?"

The woman looked at her daughter and smiled. "Debbie Bayer, what are you doing up so late? You know you've got school in the morning."

Doug wanted to grab the woman, to plead for help, but he seemed to have no control over his transformed body. "I'm sorry, Mom. I wanted to finish my homework."

"I know, dear. Being a freshman in high school is a big change from grade school, but you need your sleep, too."

"I know, Mom." Doug watched his body walk over to his - his - mother? and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll go to bed right now."

Mom kissed her back. "That's my good girl. Your father called before from San Francisco. He said he promises he'll be home by your birthday. He wanted to know what you'd like him to bring as a present."

Doug felt herself smile. "First of all, I want a big hug from him, but if he could bring me one of those cool Pokka necklaces, or maybe a pair of jade earrings from Chinatown... pierced earrings?"

"I'll tell him when he calls tomorrow, but we've talked about this before, Debbie. I don't think you should get your ears pierced until you're 16."

"Aww, Mom. All my friends...."

"I know this argument. All your friends have pierced ears, only they don't, I've been checking. So that won't work, but I will think about it. Maybe in a few months."

Doug Oakes screamed inside Debbie Bayer's mind. He was helpless as she threw her arms around her mother and hugged her. "Thank you. Thank you, Mom."

"You're welcome, dear, but, remember, I haven't said 'yes' yet. We'll see how you behave for the next few weeks, and how your grades are at the end of the quarter. Then I'll decide."

Doug sank down in despair. He was trapped inside just the sort of little ball of fluff he'd hated since he'd been in high school himself, and somehow he knew it wasn't going to get any better. He would spend his life in the back of Debbie's mind unable to influence a single thought or action of the sweet young thing he had become.

Debbie climbed into bed and cuddled up next to the large rag doll she'd slept with since she was six. Her mother blew her a kiss and turned off the light.

* * * * *

Back in the office of Spells 'R Us, the old Wizard turned off his PC and turned to his pretty young assistant. "You're right, Dannie. There are all sorts of interesting things you can do on the Internet."

The End

I got this idea after reading an article about an adult male cop who pretends to be a young girl to trap SOBs like Doug Oakes who use the Internet to prey on girls. I didn't call it an SRU story without giving the whole thing away.



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