The Sunflower Girls: An Age Regression Tale

By August D. Adams

In an attempt to quickly advance her position at work, petite 23-year-old Nina volunteers to fill in for her boss as a counselor at a summer camp for little girls, but after an unfortunate mix-up, things quickly spiral out of her control as she's thrust headfirst into the world of the Sunflower Girls. Can she get out before it's too late?

Experience Nina's unwilling transformation through her own thoughts in this exciting tale of age regression that features scenes involving diapers, spanking, status reduction and role reversal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: August D. Adams
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370369539

Book preview

The Sunflower Girls

An Age Regression Tale

By August D. Adams

Copyright 2016

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Chapter One

I had arrived at a fork in the road.

Right?

Or left?

Right?

Or left?

I would eventually have to choose one way or the other. I had no choice. Going back simply wasn't an option at this point. There wasn't nearly enough space for me to make a proper u-turn and attempting to do so would likely result in my car getting stuck in the thick foliage that bordered both sides of the extremely narrow dirt road. If it even was a road. There was a good chance that I'd taken a wrong turn a long ways back and ended up on a hiking trail or something along those lines.

The road certainly didn't feel like it was meant for vehicles. My car barely fit on it and I didn't exactly have a large car, just a tiny little two-door coup. Yet, despite it's small size, at one point while driving along the bumpy road I had actually come dangerously close to getting wedged between two large trees. Taking it very slowly and with great caution, I had eventually made it through, but not without losing my driver's side rear-view mirror in the process. I didn't even want to think about how much that was going to cost to get replaced. I'd be lucky if I didn't need new tires after driving over so many large sticks and jagged rocks as well.

I slumped my head down on the steering wheel and let out a long, anguished groan.

I should have just ridden on the bus with the rest of the camp counselors and all the kids, but no, I had to be Miss Independent and drive up to the remote Sunflower Girls summer camp all by myself. I don't know why I thought that would be a good idea. I was completely unfamiliar with the area and my tiny car was most definitely not designed to drive on such rough terrain. All I had wanted was just a nice, peaceful scenic ride instead of having to listen to a bunch of little kids yelling and screaming or singing a bunch of annoying traveling songs the whole way to the camp. Had I known the alternative was a seemingly endless maze of winding dirt roads with very few signs to show me the way, I would have just ridden on the damn bus. My boyfriend had even offered to lend me his Jeep for the trip, a far more suitable vehicle for the rugged dirt roads, but no, I didn't want to inconvenience him...

What the hell had I been thinking?!

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, I chastised myself as I gently banged my head on the steering wheel.

I'd been denying it for the past half hour, but I could deny it no longer. I was lost. Hopelessly so. And a quick glance at my cell phone revealed that I still didn't have a signal, no bars at all. Not surprising considering I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, nothing in sight but trees, trees, and more trees. On the bright side, I had left my apartment fairly early in the morning and it was still well before noon, so I didn't have to worry about it getting dark any time soon.

That did little to make me feel better about my situation though. It's hard not to panic when you're deep in a dense forest on an unmarked dirt road, or path, or whatever it was I was driving on, and you have no idea which direction will lead you back to civilization. Even if I could turn around, which I couldn't until I found a suitable spot, I'm not sure I would have even been able to find my way back to where I had first entered the forest anyway.

I fucking hate this place, I muttered to myself.

As I sat there with my car idling, nervously nibbling on my lower lip while glancing from right to left at the two diverting paths I had to choose from, I suddenly heard a rustling coming from the thick brush nearby. My boyfriend had made several jokes about watching out for bears on the trip. I knew that he was just pulling my chain and trying to scare me as he so often did, so I had laughed along with him at the time, but now that I was actually all alone in the woods, it didn't seem quite so funny anymore. Already on edge about being lost, I practically jumped out of my seat as the rustling suddenly grew much louder and much closer to my car. I could even see the bushes nearby shaking violently.

Fearing it might actually be a bear, I got my ass into gear and finally made a choice. I might as well have just flipped a coin, because there was no rhyme or reason behind my decision. I just went left because... why the hell not? It's not like I had any knowledge of which direction, if either, would actually lead me to the campgrounds. I knew it was situated near a large lake, but that was about it. That's not exactly much to go on when you're lost deep in a massive forest that stretches hundreds of miles. I hadn't even caught sight of a lake during my entire drive!

I glanced in my rear-view mirror at the bush that I thought had been shaking so violently, my heart racing as I feared a huge bear would come crashing out of it at any moment and start dashing towards my car. It wasn't a bear that emerged though. It was something a lot less threatening: just a small, innocent little white rabbit. I couldn't help but feel a little silly for panicking like I had. I guess the stress of being lost had made me overreact to what I'd seen and heard. Oh, well. At least I didn't have to worry about a bear chasing after me on top of everything else.

All I could do now was just keep driving and hope that the road I had chosen would lead me somewhere. If not to the campground, then maybe to a ranger's station or back to the main roadway. I would have settled for simply a wider dirt road that wasn't so bumpy and scattered with debris. Every time I hit a bump, and there were a lot of them, it felt like my little car might suddenly fall to pieces. I could constantly hear sticks scraping against the bottom and large rocks were continually being kicked up by my tires and rattling around the wheel wells. I wasn't sure how much more abuse my poor little car could take.

Turns out, not very much.

I must have driven for about ten more minutes before the situation went from bad to worse. Much, much worse. After speeding over a particularly large bump in the road, admittedly while driving a bit too fast, my car went airborne for just a brief moment. It probably wasn't in the air for more than a few seconds and it probably wasn't even that far off of the ground, but I swear, my heart almost leapt out of my chest during those few weightless moments.

When my car and I came back down to earth, it wasn't a very graceful landing. In fact, my car just so happened to land square in the middle of a large pool of thick mud, coming to a complete stop with a loud scraping clang as mud splashed all across the front windshield.

Shit, I hissed as I took a moment to collect myself and allow my heart to stop racing.

After I'd shaken off the rough landing, I realized with some alarm that the motor wasn't running anymore. Some of the mud must have gotten into my muffler or the engine or something like that. I don't know. I'm not a mechanic and I don't know much about cars. It was either that or the crash had broken something. I prayed that wasn't the case. The last thing I needed was for my car to break down while I was lost in the middle of the woods.

With my fingers crossed, I quickly tried to get the car started again, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't anything serious. The first two times I turned the key, my car made a noise that sounded like a dying cat, a less than encouraging outcome. I heard something rattling under the car as well, which made me think that something must have indeed gotten damaged during my plunge into the mud pit. After a third failed attempt at starting the engine, I stopped for a moment and prayed to every god I could think of to please get me out of this jam.

Just let it start, please, I begged any number of deities as I folded my hands and glanced up at the roof of my car.

Lo and behold, the fourth time was the charm. My prayers had been answered! The engine kicked into gear and started purring like a kitten.

Yes! I shouted, pumping my fist. Nina one, nature zero! Suck it, you stupid freakin' forest!

My silly little celebration turned out to be a bit premature though. I soon found that my car stalling wasn't the only problem I needed to overcome. That pool of mud that I'd landed in turned out to be much deeper and much more treacherous than I had first thought. When I hit the gas to get moving again, the tires spun, but my car didn't move forward.

No, no, no, I kept repeating as I put the pedal to the floor in a desperate and perhaps foolish attempt at freeing my car from the thick mud.

Doing that turned out to be a huge mistake. The back end of my car wiggled back and forth as it struggled to work it's way out of the mud. The longer I held the gas pedal down, the deeper my tires dug themselves in. I could actually feel the back of my car sinking further and further into the mud. When I finally realized that continuing to hold the pedal down wasn't going to have the desired effect, I eased off and a stream of expletives left my mouth that would probably make the most hardened sailor blush.

I'd gone and gotten myself stuck.

There was likely nothing I could do from inside the car that would help fix it, but I wasn't willing to accept that just yet. I turned the wheel this direction and that as I slowly pressed down on the gas pedal. When that didn't work, I started pressing down harder and harder. All this resulted in was mud splattering up the sides of my car, some of it even reaching the windows. I think I might have dug my tires in even deeper as well.

It was no use. Driving out of that mud trap just wasn't a viable strategy.

I had no choice but to get out and see if I could perhaps somehow push or pull my car out. Easier said than done. The moment I took a step out of my car, I realized just how much trouble I was in. My foot quickly sunk down into the mud almost all the way up to my ankle. I was lucky that I was even able to get it out again without the mud claiming my sneaker, which was now covered in a thick layer of brown goop.

I had originally wanted to wear heels on the trip, which my boyfriend Josh had laughed about, telling me with an amused smirk, You don't wear heels at a camp, Nina! I hadn't appreciated his teasing me at the time, but I now found myself very happy that I'd listened to him, otherwise I probably wouldn't have even been able to traverse the muddy pool and make my way to the back of my car to inspect the problem.

It was as bad as I feared. Maybe even a little worse. My back tires had sunk so deep into the mud that I could barely see them anymore. It wasn't going to be easy getting my car out, especially by myself. I wasn't even sure where to begin. I didn't have a shovel or anything I could use to dig my tires out, nor did I have any kind or rope or cord I could use as some kind of pulley. The only thing I could really do was try to push it out with nothing but brute force. So, that's exactly what I attempted to do.

I planted my feet firmly in the mud and pushed as hard as I could. I tried from every angle and every position imaginable. I pushed with my arms, my back, put literally all of my weight into it, but I'm not exactly She-Hulk. Quite the contrary actually. I only stand at a meager four feet ten inches and I barely weigh over a hundred pounds. I've never been the athletic type and it shows in my stringy little arms and my not-so-shapely spindly legs. Even if I had been taller or possessed a more muscular physique, I don't think it would have helped me much anyway. The tires were so firmly planted in the thick sludge that I doubt even my six foot tall, well-built boyfriend would have been able to push or pull that car out.

Anyone could see that it was a fool's errand, but, not knowing when to quit, I continued to struggle anyway. I just wasn't ready to accept that I was now stranded in the middle of the woods with no car and no cell reception. Those were far too frightening circumstances for me to accept so easily. So, I foolishly kept up my useless attempt to somehow free my car from it's muddy grave, struggling to the point where I was screaming out in frustration during every pointless shove. I really should have just let it go and admitted defeat, but in what was fast becoming a pattern of ill-fated choices, I placed my hands on the back windshield and planted my feet as best I could to make one final desperate attempt.

What I didn't know was that my feet had sunk so deeply into the mud that both of my shoes were completely submerged. After a hard shove that didn't even move my car a single measly inch, I went to step forward and put more of my weight into one more push, but my sneakers were so entrenched in the mud that my feet slipped right out of them, causing me to lose my balance. I tried catching myself on the windshield, but it was so slippery with slick mud that my hands slid right off of it. I came crashing down face first into the mud with a loud, almost comical, Splat!

Stunned by what had just happened, I struggled to free myself from the mud, eventually rising up on my knees, my face completely coated in brown goop. Some of it had even gotten into my mouth. I was practically gagging as I spit out as much of it as I could. I'm sure I would have laughed at the entire scene if it had been someone else, but since it was me, I felt nothing but embarrassed and horrified.

After wiping the mud from my eyes, I glanced down in disbelief to see that I was now pretty much completely covered in mud from head to toe. I probably looked like some kind of mud monster. I don't think I had ever felt so gross before. The mud was just everywhere.

I let out an anguished scream that echoed through the nearby forest. Great! I shouted sarcastically. Just real fucking great!

I tried wiping the mud from my face, but my hands were completely coated too. My expensive white, short-sleeved blouse was likely ruined beyond repair. Same goes for my pants. Those were my favorite pair of skinny jeans too, the only pair I'd ever owned that actually made it appear like I had a nice ass. I had never had much of a butt, nor the womanly curves or hourglass figure that I saw on my much more voluptuous colleagues and friends. I more than made up for it in smarts, but that was beside the point. Any piece of clothing or lingerie I could find that helped enhance my not-so-well-endowed figure, I treasured. So I was understandably upset about my now completely ruined jeans. Even if I washed them twenty times, I'm not sure it would have gotten all of that sticky, gooey mud off of them. Some of it had even slipped down my pants and likely stained my sexy red silk panties. I could feel it squishing around in there, causing me to cringe in discomfort.

Making matters worse, my shoes were still buried somewhere in the pool of mud. Down on my hands and knees, I started digging through the mud with my bare hands, desperately trying to find them. I stupidly hadn't brought another pair with me, so I really needed them. In the end, my frantic searching only resulted in me getting even more covered in mud. Whatever clean spots I had had left after my embarrassing spill were now just as saturated as the rest of me. I did manage to eventually find one of my shoes, but it was so caked in mud that there was no way I'd be able to wear it.

I slumped down on my bum in the mud, spitting out a few more bits of gross sludge. In addition to my clothes and face, my long waist-length brown hair was also covered in mud. I had decided to wear it loose instead of tying it up and out of the way, which likely would have spared me from having a head of heavy, disgusting mud-covered hair. I could add that to the list of foolhardy decisions that I'd made before embarking on this stupid trip, which I was really regretting volunteering for. I should have known better. Me, camping in the woods? I was completely out of my element. I was a lab rat, not a country girl.

So, to recap, on top of my car being hopelessly stuck, I was now covered in mud from head to toe and no longer had any shoes. Oh, and I had no way to call anyone for help. So, yeah, I was kind of screwed. It took me a while before I even had the motivation to pull myself up out of the mud instead of just sitting there and sulking. Once I finally did, I wrung out my hair, getting as much of the disgusting mud rinsed from it as I could, and wiped as much of it off of my clothes as was possible. Ditto my arms and also my face, my expertly applied make-up coming off along with the mud. I was still a total mess, but at least I wasn't carrying around ten extra pounds of wet, heavy mud anymore.

The first thing I did after that was check my cell to find out if I had a signal yet. I didn't. No surprise there. It was that kind of day. With no way of calling for help and no idea where I was, I now had a rather important decision to make. I could either stay in my car, which wasn't going anywhere, and hope someone eventually came along and found me, or I could head off on foot and hope to find my way either to the campgrounds or to the main roadway where I could perhaps flag down a passing motorist. Neither option seemed particularly appealing, especially since I didn't have much food or water, just half a granola bar and three quarters of a can of diet soda. I wouldn't last very long on that, regardless of what I decided to do.

As daunting a proposition as it seemed, I decided the best course of action was for me to keep going on foot. The dirt road was so remote that it was unlikely anyone would come across me or my car for days, if not weeks. I figured I had a much better chance making it to safety on foot. Even if I couldn't find the campgrounds or a way back to civilization, perhaps I'd at least be able to find some fresh water to wash up and, more importantly, keep me hydrated. I was no survivalist, but I was smart enough to know that I wouldn't last very long without anything to drink.

Before I headed out on my potentially long journey, I decided to change out of my mud-covered clothes. I stripped off my jeans and kissed them goodbye, knowing it was unlikely I'd be able to salvage them. I left them on the passenger seat of my car along with my ruined blouse, my muddy socks and even my bra and panties. The mud had soaked through my blouse enough to almost completely saturate my padded bra and I had no desire to walk around with a soggy, muddy bra strapped to my chest. Same goes for my mud-laden silk panties.

I didn't have much to choose from in terms of clean clothing. I had only packed underwear, socks and sleeping attire since I'd been informed that the camp counselors wore uniforms that would be provided to us when we arrived at the camp. So I didn't really