Story #125: How to Train Your Pet Poobrain (Part 3)

Story #125: How to Train Your Pet Poobrain (Part 3) (Fifth chapter in the 'Preteen Poobrain' storyline) (Content Tags: Messy diapers, mind merged with messy diaper, humiliation, bullying, mild pet-play, braindrain) What was there for me to say? If I had full use of my faculties, would it have even been prudent for me to say something? If my mind hadn't already been consumed by dirty diaper thoughts, and I had the wherewithal to make an excuse, then what could that excuse be? What could justiy *this*? My nose was buried in the back of Billy's fuming diaper; my nose was literally touching Elmo's nose on the backside of the Pampers. I wasn't being forced or coerced to do it, and in fact, it was undeniable that I appeared to greatly enjoy it! The large drooly grin and enamored eyes, my posture displaying both my enthusiasm and desperation to smell the putrid perfume of the poopy Pampers... Craig had me dead to rights. On a secondary note, my own diaper was now sporting a large and warm lump of its own. The little rat didn't seem to know that just yet, but it wouldn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to deduce the doo-doo diaper I had, so that was a ticking time bomb itself. Billy was bemused at my buffoonery, but that didn't say much, since he was only a tot himself. To him, I must just seem like a bigger, dumber baby. He wasn't a sadist like my brother, but he was easily led along by his fellow tyke to partake in the antics. As long as Bradley egged him on, Billy would happily shove his dirtied diaper against my face. Bradley meanwhile was playing the same role as always; he was feigning innocence while really being the chess master in the backrooms. He took great pleasure in my suffering, and while he was supposedly helping to keep my secret at home, he had no such inclination to do the same elsewhere. "Well? Parker? Are you really just a gross, dumb poosniffer? I can't believe I thought you were cool..." Craig sneered, whatever respect he had for me was fleeting fast. To my fortune, Billy had finally moved away from me, perhaps from being distracted by a butterfly or some other 'interesting' thing. That gave me just enough leeway to reclaim control by some small measure; I rubbed my nose against my arm and sniffled, before cocking my head back to look at Craig. "N-no...I uh, I wasn't doing that..." Craig furrowed his brow, looking down at me with scornful, skeptical eyes. I was asking him to ignore his lying eyes and ears, and instead to just take my word that I wasn't some loser weirdo that loved the aroma of a freshly pooed diaper. It didn't really appear to me that he was buying what I was selling. "Uh-huh...So, then...What were you doing? You just trip and fall face-first into Billy's dookie diaper?" I was on my hands and knees, so it at least looked like I could have tripped to reach this point. It was an extremely lame excuse to try to make, but what did I have to lose by trying to make it? I nodded my head quietly and hoped he'd let the whole thing go. "That's baloney! I saw you, Parker! You were sniffin' so hard that your nose was pretty much a vacuum! Wait until everyone else hears about how you wear diapers and like to smell poo!" Craig started to laugh, his obnoxious giggles too much for my poor ego. "He poopies his diapee too." My little brother suddenly interjected, not wanting Craig to miss such a critical detail. "Eww, really? You really poo your diaper too, Parker? Like, you're not just wearin' them to wear them? Or for pee-pee accidents? You *DOODIE* in them?" Craig stuck his tongue out in disgust, sounding as if he didn't take much convincing to believe that. "You're just a big, yucky dummy in every way, huh?" "I-I don't d-d-doodie my d-d-diaper...!" I was left stammering over my words, but only the words that resonated deep within my twisted mind. Any discussion, any inkling really, would trigger my thoughts to start swarming. "Yeah right! Like m'gonna believe anything you say after everything! I can trust your dumb little brother better than I can trust you!" Craig asserted, moving closer to me from behind. "I bet you're fibbin. I bet you got a big mountain of dookie in your diaper! Just like Billy, except he's at least still a stinky baby." Before I could defend my honor any further, I suddenly felt a rough prod against my squishy seat, and my mind glazed over once more with the swirling pleasures of having my own warm mess smeared against my backside. Craig had put his foot to my padded rump, and he was pressing down and twisting his heel around. "Ughh! You definitely got poop in there! I can feel it being all squishy." It was a fine pickle to get myself stuck in. My thoughts were being densely clouded, which would prevent any more defense, and if anything, I'd begin to act even more questionably. Craig didn't know it, but he was taking advantage of my poobrained state, and I was absolutely helpless to stop it. "He gets all dumb when he makes poopies, and when he smells a poo-poo diaper." My brother mentioned, watching me with a smug grin. The tot could see my intellect diminishing in real time as the side-effects of his little science experiment came out. "Nnggh...N-nooo...No dumb..." I barely managed to murmur, my focus rapidly declining, or rather being invested elsewhere. Bradley was playing boldly by speaking up so much. An idiotic toddler like Billy might not question his verbal ability, but he certainly sounded more advanced than he should to Craig. This was an interesting development of its own, since it either meant that he expected Craig to be too bewildered by me to catch on, or that Craig's own days of normal cognition were limited. "Really? He gets dumber? That's so lame, haha! Like, Kindergarten dumb?" Craig asked, looking over at my brother with a cruel curiosity in his eyes. "Dumb like a doggy." Bradley said, not even giving me the minimal dignity of personhood in that statement. "N-nuh-uh! N-no dumb! No doggy!" I whined, my argument falling flat right from the launch, since my vocabulary had become so infantile. It was as if the majority of my brainpower was being focused on my adoration of poopy diapers, leaving little for anything else. "Yuh-huh!" Bradley nodded, waddling over to where I was and 'petting' me on the head. "An' doggies don't wear pants!" In one sharp motion, the pants that had already been around my ankles were yanked all the way off. The sudden disrobing made me sit up on my knees, "Stoppit!" "No shirts either, huh?" Craig giggled, joining in as he grabbed my shirt and quickly pulled it over my head, leaving me in my moderately soiled diaper and my shoes. While Craig was busy snickering, my little brother leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Back on your hands, poobrain. Do everything I say, or I'm never going to turn you back to normal." Even with my altered mental state, the threat came through loud and clear. I didn't have to like it, but I did have to accept it; if I strayed from Bradley's commands, then there was no chance that I'd ever be as I once was. I groaned and went back onto my hands, crawling upon the ground like the 'doggy' I'd been called. But a moment later, Bradley was climbing onto my back, resting his own padded rump upon me, as if I was a beast of burden to mount. Bradley had taken off his shorts at some point in the sandbox, but it hadn't really been a worthwhile detail to note until now, since it'd been Billy who had captured my attention with his packed Pampers. "Giddy up!" Bradley announced, putting his hands on my shoulders to help balance himself. I began to crawl atop the grass and the dirt, my poopy diaper sagging behind me as my messy bottom swayed with each step forward. Bradley was fortunately not *too* heavy, and his weight was dispersed well enough where he was seated; the real burden on my back was the one of burning shame. "Hehe, oh my gosh! He really is just like a dumb doggy...or piggy, since he stinks like poo." Craig commented, captivated by the sight of a 'big kid' acting in such an uncouth manner. "Uh-huh!" Bradley chirped, before more lowly speaking to me in particular: "...Or a pet poobrain, right?" If I wasn't terrified of what the reprisal would have been, then I would have bucked him off my back right then and there. My fear kept me in line; it was the only thing that allowed me to endure this degree of degradation. While crawling across the yard, my brother suddenly knocked his ankle against my ribs and said to 'stop', which I begrudgingly complied. The toddler got down for a moment to pick something up out of the grass, and then he got right back aboard the 'Parker' express to continue his parade around the premises. "I-I'm gettin' tired.." I complained, this task becoming more exhaustive the longer it went on. My mind was at least becoming somewhat more coherent again though, since I no longer had Craig's foot on my squishy butt, nor did I have Billy's squishy butt against my nose. "C-Can I stop for a moment?" My plea for leniency met a response via a loud *whap* to the back of my diaper, with what I now realized was the leafy stick that my brother had stopped to pick up, which was now taking the place of a riding crop that a jockey would use on his steed. "No! Faster!" Another groan passed my lips and I tried to pick up speed, but it just wasn't possible. I could feel smack after smack on my padded rear, and while it didn't hurt much at all, each strike did mush my pantload even further. The constant reminder that I had dookie in my diaper was enough to get my brain occupied again with thoughts most embarrassing. "Cwaig! Me wanna play horsey too!" Billy fussed, tugging at his brother's pantleg and pointing at the sibling pair who were out in the yard. "What? Eww, no! You got poo in your pants, Billy. You're not gettin' on my back!" The older brother asserted with disgust in his voice. Without the corruption of my brother's evil, this would otherwise have been a fairly standard play-session between siblings. If Bradley wasn't a cruel genius, and was just a normal baby, then I would have been just fine to give him a horsey-ride! It was the dirty diapers and the degradation that made this appalling instead of wholesome. I could suddenly feel a growing warmth on my back, and a quiet sigh of relief coming from my brother. It became quickly obvious, even to a poobrain like me, that the little brat had just wet his diaper while on top of me! Before I could complain, likely because he already foresaw how I'd react, Bradley had reached back and grabbed the back of my diaper with a tight grip. The mashing of the load in my pants kept me docile, because it made my mind melt even further into a puddle of hedonistic distraction. More and more, I could feel myself slipping away, trapped in a shameful bliss. I kept trying to claw my way out of it, but it was as ineffective as clawing at the top of a coffin, while six feet under the dirt. If that wasn't bad enough, my mind was about to be assaulted even further, because my little brother wasn't finished with his 'business'. I could hear some grunting coming from him, and then once again, a warmth began to radiate against my bare back, as his Huggies bulged with a large steamer. This time, I didn't feel irate; I felt joy from hearing it, from feeling it, and from smelling it. The poopy diaper that my brain had the misfortune of being merged with had belonged to Bradley in the first place, and unsurprisingly, that'd made my poobrained obsession even more powerful when it came to the ones around the brat's waist. I was starting to drool on myself, my mind becoming overwhelmed and my willpower completely zeroed out. Becoming stupider, I began to loudly fart as I crawled upon the ground; each foot forward was punctuated by flatulence powerfully blasting the back of my diaper, to where I appeared to be gas-powered. This would naturally progress even further, and the toots began to be proceeded by the plops of solids squeezing out; it made my appearance as a 'horsey' all the more authentic, to carelessly be letting out my droppings into my diaper without stopping my movement at all. "I wanna pway!" Billy again whined, stomping his foot and jealously looking over at the 'fun' that Bradley was having. "No way! I'm not a dumb diaper-dooker like Parker, so m'not gonna let you boss me around like his stupid baby brother does to him." Craig insisted, folding his arms. That was twice now that Craig had insulted Bradley, and that wasn't counting his flippant comments earlier about the pair of toddlers. I should have already guessed that this wouldn't bode well for the kid, when Bradley had been acting in such an emboldened way. There was little doubt that Bradley was going to retaliate, it was only a matter of how. Bradley steered me back in the direction of the pair and I mindlessly obeyed his navigation; the only thing my mind could focus on was the warm mush in my diaper and the dirtied Pampers that belonged to the evil tot on my back. Even without my nose buried in a swollen seat, I'd become totally poobrained, which meant I had no brainpower to spare for resistance. My brother climbed off my back and waddled over to where I'd left the diaper bag. He then called Billy over, as if to show him a shiny new toy that he'd gotten, which wasn't entirely inaccurate. The two stinky toddlers would share a conversation, while I sat on the grass and openly drooled on myself in blissful relief of the squish I was feeling. Craig had meanwhile come to get another look at me, now that I had devolved further into a slobbering beast that appeared devoid of any intelligence. He still didn't understand the horror of what had happened to me, and even if I had my wits about me, I don't think I could have explained in any believable way; it sounded totally absurd when it was taken from the top. My brother had it in his head that instead of explaining it, that he'd rather demonstrate it. Craig was going to get a very personalized look at what exactly had been done to me, and I would be assisting in making that happen. The two toddlers came back, dirty Pampers sagging and swinging between their legs, and they both carried mischievous grins on their faces. "Bwadley gonna make you pway horsey." Billy excitedly quipped to his older brother, looking as smug as what was possible for a toddler. "Oh? Is that so?" Craig raised an eyebrow, not looking too impressed or threatened by the statement. "How's he gonna do that? Is he gonna ask real nicely? Or is he gonna try to stink me out?" Bradley grinned, carrying something in his hand that looked familiar. "Parker, be a good poobrain and keep Craig still." The shock of hearing such mature sounding verbiage from my little brother was eclipsed by the surprise of me obeying and suddenly standing up to subdue the boy. Craig really couldn't have expected this turn of events, so he was ill-prepared for when I grabbed him and pushed him down into the grass; then, doing the only thing I knew how, I sat on his chest with my full diaper getting right next to his face. "E-ewwwwwwww! Get off, get off! Your gross diaper is right on me!" The brat whined, fussing and fidgeting, but being too weak to get my weight to move at all. It probably didn't help things that I was starting to fart again, quite heavily at that. Each fart that ripped and wetly sputtered against the back of my thick youth diaper was making Craig look sickly, but that negative connotation would very soon be a thing of the past. Bradley was waddling over and it became more clear what he was holding. As he attached a little suction cup to my poopy diaper, and then another to Craig's forehead. Then, in a shocking twist, he revealed two more cords to attach: one to Billy's diaper and one to his own. Another poobrain was about to be created, but this time from three messy diapers instead of one; Craig would undoubtedly be on the receiving end of a much more degrading fate than me.