Long Story #20: Aptitude and Ineptitude (R-18)(P2)

"I'm going to have to call home about this." She informed him with a scowl, "And I'm not going to be the one to wipe your muddy butt. You can go down to the SPED room; I'll call ahead to let them know to expect you." Ryan grimaced at the prospect of being faced with the thing that most disgusted him; even as his brain was turning to mush, he still had that anxiety fueled repulsion inside his head. Even as he was actively turning into that very thing, he still found room in his heart for spite and hate. He tried to argue with the nurse, but she wasn't entertaining anything he said; she wasn't about to clean up a grown boy who should know better. So he got pinged along down the hall. It was only another few minutes for him to toddle, maybe made a little longer by his own apprehension, but he eventually found himself standing at the gates of hell. Class 119 of the SPED hall. The 'retard room' itself. Ryan gave the door a gentle knock, perhaps hoping for an excuse to turn away, but the door opened and a woman looked down at him with a smile. On the other side of her, he could already see the turbulent chaos of the classroom she reigned over; mindless pantspoopers who weren't fit for polite society, who were corralled in a single place for all their destructive actions and scatological behaviors could be contained. "You must be Ryan! The nurse let me know you would be coming by. Come on in and we'll get you taken care of." She pulled him by the hand into the classroom and it felt like he was permanently passing a threshold that he couldn't return from. He didn't know it yet, but he was getting a sneak preview of what his life was about to become; a prelude to the poobrained existence of a drooling, pamper-packing,  booger-eating retard. This classroom in particular seemed to only be boys who were around his own age or a little older, eighteen and up, and everyone inside looked to be on the severe end of the intellectually challenged spectrum. Everyone inside looked to be caught in whatever hedonistic behavior their impulse was deciding to fire upon: squatting and befouling themselves, smearing their butt around on the carpet, snoofing the lumpy seat of a classmate, rubbing their padded crotches vigorously against whatever or whoever was in reach... It was a zoo. It certainly smelled like one, and Ryan had a difficult time not looking at these other boys as if they were animals. Even toddlers seemed to have more social grace than these cretins! "The nurse let me know you had an oopsie in your Pull-Ups, Ryan. Do you often have oopsies in your pants?" Ryan slowly shook his head, "Nuh-uh...I'ma big kid. M'smart boy." She nodded, as if to humor him, and led him toward the back of the room where the changing table was. "Right...Well, boys who make number two in their pants are usually my students. We can't have someone pooping their pants in the normal classes." The woman reached down and yanked at his pants to get them around his ankles. She then pulled out the back of his padded underwear and took a look inside, "Oh, that's a *big* poo-poo, Ryan. I think you might need something better than a Pull-Up. Don't you think?" She put her palm up against the lump and gently pressed it against his bottom to emphasize the size of his pantload. He felt it smear its sticky warmth against his rump and he blushed, suddenly feeling himself getting a little excited in the front of his trainers. "Duuuhhh...uhhh...I-I guess..." He stammered, putting his hands in front of his crotch out of shame for the bizarre tent he was pitching. "Good! Now, I need to run to the other room to get something that will fit you. You're pretty small compared to the other boys in my class. Stay put." She gave him a pat on the head and walked away. Left to his own devices, Ryan was most fixated on the aroused state of his member and how he needed to 'take care of it' before the teacher came back. With his impulse control eroded and his rationality not far behind, he stuck his hand down the front of the Pull-Up and 'got to work' on solving the problem. He couldn't remember a time when his libido had felt so completely fulfilling; the release often felt like a chore, but here it was more intense than ever before. The feeling was so strong that he started to drool on himself as he beat off in his soiled training pants, moaning and curling his toes as he went along in front of his future peers. While he jerked off, he suddenly felt another pressure from down below. He immediately recognized it as a second wave of poop that needed to be released; this time though, there was no thought about holding it. Instead, he saw it as an obstacle in the way of his more pressing feelings in front. He didn't even stop masturbating, he just jutted his bottom out and began to push with all his might. There was a sharp toot and then the sound of a plump sausage exiting to a resounding PLOP in the already dirtied backside of his adult pull-up. The sensation of self-defecation drove his arousal to eleven and he nutted only moments later. "...All finished up, Ryan?" He sluggishly turned his head, panting in exhaustion and orgasmic bliss. The SPED teacher had returned, holding a folded diaper in her hand and looking amused at what she had walked in on. The honor student still had his hand down the front of his garment, his chin was soaked in drool, and snot had even started to trail down his nostrils. "H-huh?" She reached over and firmly pulled his hand free of where it had been so scandalously lodged, before wiping it clean with a baby wipe. She didn't say anything more about what she'd seen him doing, but she did make a mental note about it; with evaluations coming up, she had a sneaking suspicion that she would be getting a new student. The woman got Ryan on the table and cleaned up in no time at all. She spent so much time changing diapers that she'd become quite the expert at it. Soon gone was the defiled pull-up that the nurse had made him put on, and in its place was a bulky medical diaper with a wetness indicating strip. That's what he would end up wearing home, and it would be a part of the awkward discussion he had with his parents about what had happened at school over the course of the day. He seemed to convince them that he simply wasn't feeling well, or at least he thought he had convinced them, and he would spend the rest of the evening secluded to his room. Ryan knew he was supposed to be studying, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on anything in front of him. It was all slipping out of his grasp. The words on the paper were becoming like scribbles and his thoughts kept shifting unevenly in his head, like he was fighting the delirium of a strong fever. He tried to splash water on his face to focus himself, but to no avail; he did however notice in the mirror that he seemed to be missing a couple of teeth, as if they'd just disintegrated into nothingness. He wouldn't be feeling much better the next morning either. Going through his normal routine was a Sisyphean task, even when it came to the simple stuff, like getting himself dressed. It felt like he was having to focus all of his brainpower on every little thing, and it was swiftly draining him of his energy. He'd woken up with a pleasant smell in the room, and his butt felt sticky, but he'd been unable to make any connection. Instead he'd gotten dressed with the shitty diaper still taped snugly around his waist; his clothes inside-out or backwards, he felt proud enough to just have them on. He neglected to brush his hair or teeth though, and if he had, then he might have discovered he was missing several more teeth today. It's taken so much time to just get dressed that he'd had to rush out the door to make the bus! The other kids stared at him and he could hear whispers, but he didn't think much of it. In fact, he wasn't thinking much about anything; his mind was frighteningly empty. Ryan still had enough going on upstairs to stick to his routine though, so he was able to find his way to his first class without much trouble. He sat at his desk with a nasty squish and looked confused whenever he saw his nearby classmates starting to pinch their nose and complain. What did they think smelled? All Ryan could smell was something profoundly pleasant! A complex bouquet of something earthy and ripe; it made him want to drool. The teacher walked among the students before stopping in front of Ryan and grimacing at the strong stench of feces that billowed out the back of his diaper; the boy hadn't just shit the bed, but he'd shit himself at least twice more since waking up, and he'd been too mentally clouded to take notice of the tremendous pile of droppings his nethers were submerged within. "Mr. Norton, a word? In the hallway?" The teacher sternly commanded with folded arms. Ryan gave the teacher a stupid look and it took another moment for the words to click in his brain. Once he realized what was being asked of him, he stood up and followed the teacher out of the classroom, unaware he was leaving a trail of fumes in his wake. Once they were in the hall, the teacher looked a little more concerned that their honor student smelled like an open diaper pail. "Ryan, are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" It sounded a little silly to Ryan, since he didn't feel sick, at least not physically. If anything, he felt great! If not a little 'off' in the head. "Nuuuhh, m'fine." **Braaaaaaaap! FRRRRRT! PLOP!** Another giant log crammed itself into his overloaded diaper and the sudden strain made him drool down his chin, while snot drooped from his nostrils. Ryan could feel the turd parting his buttcheeks like Moses and the Red Sea, but was stricken by solely serendipity in the sensation; any shame was alleviated by the primal pleasure of filling his tardpants with yet more excrement. The wide-eyed expression of the teacher and the silence that followed was punctuated by the sickening plop of a lump of dung rolling out the boy's pantleg. After a frantic call to the front office, Ryan would end up waddling bowlegged to the counselor, with brown-stained pants and an occasional clump dislodging itself from the legbands of his diaper to be left in his putrid path. The conversation that would follow was hard for Ryan to fully comprehend, but the gist he got was that he wasn't living up to the standard that was expected of an honor student, and the rampant self-defecation was atop the list as a prime example of that. There was a warning somewhere in there, of what the consequences of continuing this would be; consequences of acting like this during the big evaluation that'd be taking place the next day. Somewhere inside his rapidly degrading brain, Ryan knew he was on the precipice of peril. He knew what fate would be ahead of him, but there was far too much static in his mind for him to fully appreciate the gravity of his situation. He'd continue on in that fog throughout the rest of the day, after getting a fresh diaper from the SPED room, and it wouldn't be until the next day that he had a ray of clarity that broke through the haze of his stupidity. First briefly as he awoke to find that he was missing even more teeth and that ass was again plastered in mushy filth from his low-sagging diaper, and then again when he ended back at school for the big day. Glimmers of intelligence, likely the last fragments of everything he kept so near and dear to him, that signified the final death throes of his brainpower. Self-awareness that would only return for a small time before he lost it for good, before he was permanently rendered into the very thing he had held such vitriol and contempt for. He could feel he was wearing a slightly damp diaper, his tongue could feel the smooth, slippery ridges of his gums, where a bright smile should have been. The last couple of days were a blur, but his classmates were kind enough to remind him that he'd disgusted them by shitting himself in class during that fugue state. Ryan knew things were dreadfully wrong, that something wasn't right with his mind or body, but he too afraid of missing the big exam to seek out the proper help. 'As soon as I finish, I'll go and figure this out' he thought to himself, apparently not cognizant enough to acknowledge that the terrifying transformation was far more crucial to address than the aptitude test. He would find himself seated near Ludwig, who would offer him a knowing smile and an encouraging yet condescending: "Do your best!" Enough neurons would fire in that moment, connecting to one another for a final hurrah, to point out the obvious. The gene therapy he'd received from Ludwig, which was supposed to enhance his intellect, was undoubtedly the culprit behind his drastic changes. "Yoo dib dis ta me. Yoo godda fixx id!" Even with his wit temporarily returned, Ryan's lack of teeth made him drool and slur his words like a retard, which elicited a chuckle from the prodigy. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Ryan. You're not accusing me of foul play, are you? Of using my CRISPR to sabotage you? By genetically transforming you into the lowliest of forms? I mean, hypothetically, that wouldn't be very hard. Making you into a genetic retard, with every positive neurological gene becoming as soiled as your pants were in class..." He was admitting it between the lines, and Ryan's face was reddening with rage at the two-faced weasel's gall. Ludwig had made Ryan's gene pool into the kind that got closed down for someone pooping their swim diaper enough to leak, and the genius was laughing about it! He tightened his fist, but before he could do anything else, he blew a juicy fart into his diaper. "Better save that lucidity for the aptitude test, Ryan. I have a feeling it won't last long enough to help you though." (Finished in part 3)