Story #147: Dummy's Day Out (Part 2)

Story #147: Dummy's Day Out (Part 2) (Third chapter to the 'Daddy's Diapered Dummy' series) (Content Tags: Perceived younger, brain damage, messy diapers, messy undies, humiliation) Justin had been more than just a 'concerned parent' when he'd realized that Stewie had wandered off. While the odds were low that Stewie could function autonomously on his own, or act cognizant enough to find help, it wasn't something Justin wanted any chance of risking. The prion incident was on record as what had become of Stewie's mental state; hell, Justin was even legally the 'guardian' of his former lab partner! But the way that Stewie was being treated, without any level of adult dignity, would call into question whether Justin was a worthy steward. Things could snowball. The lab accident had been swept as neatly under the rug as the law loosely allowed, but if people began to ask questions, then it wouldn't take too much detective work to realize what Justin's part was in that 'accident'. The fortune he had stolen would be forfeit, and he'd been spending a lot of time behind bars, ironically similar to the 'bars' that Stewie was kept behind at home. It wasn't a worry that he thought he'd be burdened by forever; it seemed more like Stewart would eventually lose what little he had left upstairs. Justin made sure that he never had much in terms of mental stimulation, while treating him as if he didn't have two neurons left to rub together. Intentionally placed brain damage had done the heavy lifting, and now it was just a matter of conditioning. Stewart had come a long way since his accident too. He'd still been riled up and halfway capable of keeping the plot, rightfully ashamed of his own intellectual losses and newfound diaper dependency; the man had been like that for a while, unable to accept what had become of him, but Justin had been chiseling away at what remained. Every bit of the former genius was left to degrade, to rot like a tomato left on the vine. Speech skills, reasoning abilities, impulse control, and continence. All valuable parts of being an adult, and he didn't exemplify any of them now. Already cursed with a physique that wouldn't mature, and now his only redeeming characteristic had been snatched from him too. Justin had to admit a perverse pleasure in it. This was the prickly pipsqueak that'd been his boss; such an indignity to get chewed out by someone who looked old enough to still be wetting the bed. Justin's ego had long suffered in that position, but then again, he'd always had trouble with authority and the concept of control. It wasn't like he was above doing something worse either; if it had really only been about greed and glory, if he had wanted it badly enough, then he could see himself getting rid of Stewart more permanently. That hadn't been the case though; stealing the credit was almost secondary, with the primary mission being to rob his superior of that which he coveted most. Justin had felt more sadistic glee when watching little Stewart realizing that he was hopelessly retarded, then when he'd cashed the first big check. It actually made him a little sad to think that he'd eventually rub out the last bit of 'Stewart', since then the torment wouldn't be recognized by 'Stewie'. Still, that wouldn't stop Justin from finding new ways to amuse himself with the moron. Looking down each aisle, head on a swivel, there he finally was. The 'boy' with the chocolate stains, pulling packages of oreos off the shelf and opening them to gobble up the little cream-filled cookies inside. It had taken just a couple of minutes for Stewie to find the tasty treats, after he'd been abandoned by the pair of mischievous miscreants. The store was also sparsely populated enough that nobody had noticed the pilfering, at least until Justin had turned down the aisle. With a heavy sigh, the man shook his head and approached the diapered dunce. "You can't just walk away from daddy, okay? You should know better." His nose wrinkled as he got closer to the munching munchkin. "...Or maybe not. Did you make another poopie for daddy? You reek!" "Uh-huh! Me made big POOP!" Stewie openly admitted, suddenly leaning to the side and ripping a foul fart into the smouldering pile of filth beneath him. "Big, stinky, squishy poop!" That made Justin crack a smile, "I can smell that. And now we're going to have to buy all these cookies too...I think it's time for you to ride in the cart, mister. I can't trust you to not run off!" The man reached down and carefully plucked the boy up, the back of his romper bulging prodigiously from what he'd been up to. Stewie got taken back to the diaper aisle, where Justin had left things, and plopped inside the shopping cart with a nasty squish. Stewie didn't seem to mind the oozing sensation at all; it put a big, dumb smile on his face and he actively gyrated his butt to take advantage of the squishies to be had. "You're going to spoil your appetite with all those cookies..." The man mused as he started to push the cart again, "What does Stewie want for din-din?" "Want nuggies!" The man chuckled, "Alright. We'll swing by the drive-through before we head home. Unless you would rather want to go in, hmm? Play in the lil' playground? We'd need to change that stinky diapee though." "Don't wanna change! Wanna stay poopy." Not much of a surprise there. What a twist of conflicting emotions for the little moron; enough of himself left to feel some sort of embarrassment, but not enough to deny his infantile urges and preferences. He knew waddling around with shit-packed britches was gross and humiliating, but it was also one of the greatest pleasures he now knew. There was a reason he was so desperate for 'alone time' in his stinky diapers. "Hm, well...I did pick up something that might help with the smell..." Justin pondered, referring to a three-pack of plastic pants that he'd been fortunate enough to find in Stewie's size. He'd also picked up a box of youth diapers, but they weren't as good as the ones they already had at home. They would just be extras to leave in the car. Justin rolled the cart down a few more aisles, picking up a few more odds and ends from the grocery side of things. Nothing perishable or even vital, just stuff that it made sense to go ahead and grab while they were here. Stewie examined each item as it got put into the cart, murmuring the name of each one like a toddler might. Finally, they made their way toward the checkout line, and Justin began to put his items on the belt. He made small talk with the cashier, who made as polite of an inquiry as possible about Justin's 'special son' there. It was a small town in the middle of nowhere, so it wasn't surprising that someone like Stewie might grab a few people's attention. Stewie didn't seem to be paying attention to either of them. One finger was digging around in his nose, while the other squeezed his squishy padding through his chocolate-smeared romper, while quietly muttering: "..Poopie...poopie...poopie.." Over and over. "He's way past due for a diaper change." Justin laughed sheepishly, playing the role of an overwhelmed single father. "Well, looks like you're buying everything you need for that!" The cashier responded in good humor. "Does your bathroom have a changing table?" "All of the bathrooms do. I think it might be a state law. About time men got expected to get their hands dirty too." The woman joked as she scanned each item. "There's also a clothing store for kids across the street, if you're umm...Wanting to change that too? His outfit looks a little dirty." She added, blanching at the brown stains she could see. "...Oh, yeah. That might not be a bad idea. Can't take him to get lunch looking like that." Justin replied, not bothering to let her know it was chocolate ice cream that she was seeing. The oreo crumbs around his lips at least made it look less like he'd been doing something else now, though his hands still looked suspect. Justin paid for the items and thanked the woman, bidding her a good day and beginning to roll the shopping cart in the direction she had pointed for the bathrooms. "I think we need to change that poo-poo diapee, little man. I can't have you trying on clothes with poop in your pants. I don't think they'd appreciate it." Stewie squirmed around in the cart, his hidden diaper squishing and squelching loudly with each movement. "Noooo! No wanna! Stewie keep poopie!" "I'm sure you'll have another squishy bottom in no time. You might not be much of a thinker anymore, but you're still a hell of a stinker. Especially since you had that double-scoop cone." He wheeled the cart to the outside of the bathroom. Justin grabbed the supplies he needed, like wipes, powder, a diaper, and one of the new pairs of plastic pants. He then slung his little captive out of the cart and carried him into the bathroom, grimacing at how badly he reeked of droppings. It was empty inside, not that it mattered much. Justin had no qualms with public changes for his little moron, and Stewie barely had the brainpower required to be indignant about it. Justin pulled down the changing table and put the supplies down on it, before putting his charge on the ground and beginning to strip his dirtied outfit. With him stripped down to just his bulging, fuming diaper, it was obvious what kind of damage the dimwit had done while he'd walked away earlier. Justin gave the seat a firm squeeze and then a pat, "That's a big, big poopie you made for daddy! Yes it is, yes it is..." Stewie smiled vacantly, clearly happy to get the muck smeared around his tushy. "Hehe...Made big poopie 'fur daddy..." He repeated with a gap-toothed grin. The mentally mutilated man started to move his hand toward the front of his diaper, but Justin batted it out of the way. "No sir, we don't touch our diaper in public, remember? Now, let's get you changed..." Up on the table he went and Justin got to work. He'd gotten pretty adept at even the most horrific of diaper changes, though some disgust still remained. It was a pittance for what he was putting his former superior through though. He wiped Stewie down and drowned his nethers in powder, before taping a fresh one on. Next he got the boy to lift his legs and he slid the milky white plastic pants into place over the new diaper. "I know that diaper isn't as thick as your usual ones, but the rubber panties should help." He said, letting the diminutive man down and handing him the balled-up diaper. "Now, can you throw that away for daddy? Can you say goodbye to your poopies like a big boy?" Stewie looked down at the heavy weight in his hands with curious eyes. It was always a surprise to see what his dirty diaper looked like off of him. He raised the ball up and suddenly buried his nose into the warm, bulging material, taking a noisy whiff of the fumes. "Smells like poo-poo!" "Yeah, I wonder why that is?" Justin humored with a snicker, "That's enough sniffing, sport. Go throw it away, okay?" Dejectedly, the freshly padded brat took the stinking diaper and deposited it in the trash can, though not before taking one more big whiff and letting a toot sputter in his seat. "Bye-bye poopies!" "That's a good boy! Now let's get going." With the store being in the same parking lot, Justin didn't see a need to drive over, but he did stop at the car to drop off their bags and the stained romper. He then took Stewie by the hand, who was literally only wearing his diaper, plastic pants, and shoes, and he walked him over to the clothing store to find him something to wear. The mostly naked look would have turned heads even if Stewie was a toddler. He looked like a grade schooler though, so everything about his appearance looked wildly inappropriate for going around in public. The diaper though made it obvious that he was retarded, and the most obvious conclusion for people would be that he had a blowout in his original outfit. Pretty quickly after entering the store, a worker stopped them to ask what they were looking for. He'd probably first walked over to talk about the fact that Stewie was far too underdressed to be in the store, but then he'd seen that those weren't tighty-whities around his waist. "Good afternoon, uh, looking for anything in...Particular?" The teen's eyes stared directly at the puffy garment, and he had to resist the urge to make a crass comment about a 'special ed special'. "My little boy got his outfit dirty and we still have some errands to run, so I just need to find a quick outfit for him. Can you point me to the boy's section?" The underpaid retail worker pointed toward the back corner of the store, "Ages five to twelve stuff should be back there. Let us know if you need any help..." "Thanks...Randal!" Justin replied, squinting to look at the teen's nametag. "I think we should be fine." While the teenager walked off, likely to go quip to his nosy coworkers about the freakshow he'd just seen, Justin was already taking Stewie by the hand and heading toward the back of the store. The plastic pants around his diaper were loud, much more audible than just his diaper had been. Rustling, crinkling, especially as they rubbed against his thighs with each step. "Now let's see...What would be good for my little dumb-dumb?" Justin cooed, stopping in front of some of the mannequins to see what kind of styles were being displayed. He tended to dress Stewie in very juvenile looking clothing, in a bid to accentuate his mental immaturity to anyone who saw him. If the diaper was hidden, and Stewie wasn't drooling on himself, then he wanted to be sure to pick an outfit that would do the rest of the talking. Onesies, rompers, and shortalls were all mainstays, with the added benefit of keeping Stewie's hands out of his diaper. Most of those options wouldn't really be available to him here. This was a standard clothing store, and everything he was talking about was special order from special stores for special boys. At least for the rest of their outing, he'd have to dress his kiddo in something halfway normal. "Let's see, maybe we can at least find some overalls to put you in. Kids your age, or well, your *size*, still wear overalls, right? Listen to me, I sound like an old man already!" Justin chuckled, not really expecting any coherent replies. Stewie just looked bored out of his gourd, especially since his diaper was so terribly clean again. He'd hated clothes shopping when he'd been a real kid, but at least then he'd had a gameboy or something, and some functioning brain cells too. "Daddy! Wanna go! Eat nuggies!" "Just hold on, Stewie. I need to find something for you to wear...Now, don't go anywhere this time, okay?" He let go of the dummy's hand and started to look over some options. Meanwhile, from the nearby dressing room, a woman could be heard chastising her son: "You're unbelievable! You really think I'll keep buying you underwear? When you can't keep them clean? You're like a two year old!" Stewie's curiosity made him look over. It seemed to be an eight year old boy getting pulled out of the dressing room, with shorts around his ankles and a large solid lump in the back of his briefs. There were still tags on the shorts, which he must have been trying on, at least before the accident. The mother pulled the shorts off of him, complaining about how she would now have to buy them, and started marching him toward the bathrooms. As they passed by Stewie, she directly pointed at his diapers and stopped for a moment. "If it happens again, then you'll be wearing *that*? Understand?" The boy was sobbing too much to make a cogent response, but it was clear that he got the picture. Stewie felt enough shame left in his neutered noggin to recognize he'd been used as an example to pity, but that only put a frown on his face, rather than a complex string of thoughts in his head. Justin heard, but pretended that he didn't, so that he couldn't be called out for not 'defending' his clearly disabled son. A few moments after the dramatic scene had passed, Justin glanced down with a grin. "Poor kid, huh? Bet he was terrified to hear his mom talking about putting him in that." He gave Stewie's padded rump a pat. "He's not retarded like you are though. You don't really mind your diapees, do you? I know you love being wet and stinky at least." The bigger man teased, pulling a few items from the shelf. "Let's get these tried on, hm? No point in going to the changing room; you walked in here nearly naked as it is."