Tale #42: The Baby-Brained Barney-Butt

Tale #42: The Baby-Brained Barney-Butt (A sequel to 'The Barney Baby') (Content Tags: Brainwashing, messy diapers, excessive soiling and farting, braindrain, stuck in bouncer, put in someone else's messy diapers, humiliation, domination) It'd been during the second half of that first episode. That'd been the first of many times to befoul himself, and to have a starting line that was the putrid diaper pail that'd been affixed to him. He was just bouncing there, biting down on his pacifier, while his squishy pamp-stack mushed against him with every bounce. All that junk food he'd indulged in had already had him starting to rip some majorly nasty farts in his diaper, and the urgency in his bowels was reaching a critical state. Brandon gripped the support cords of the bouncer and groaned, feeling some poop escape with a particularly powerful toot that'd squeezed out. His flatulence got worse, it sounded wetter and more erratic, and every burbling blast was bringing a volley of hot mush with it. He bounced, he farted, he pooped, he repeated. Brandon was legitimately crapping himself while watching Barney, like a short-busser. His tormentor hadn't been ignorant to his plight either, glancing away from the TV at every big splatter, to give Brandon a knowing look and a bemused grin. "It's like you have a rocket on yur' butt! You 'pbbbttt!' And you go up!" The sophomoric joke fell flat for Brandon, who didn't find his own faltering of bowel control to be funny. Quite the contrary, this was *humiliating*. It was bad enough to be taped into a pail's worth of Kenny's dirty diapers, with the prime one being something that had been very recently filled, but now he was adding to the pile himself?! After the episodes had come to an end, Kenny put in the first tape. He watched a few more hours with his bouncing captive, before he got started on making himself some dinner. When Brandon asked about food, he'd instead been presented with prune juice and baked beans; Kenny wanted Brandon to really lose control of himself, and making him into a poop factory was step one. The day stretched into the evening, with Brandon's shameful suspension remaining in place. There was still no mention of freedom, or even a diaper change, but instead Kenny would intermittently dump more talcum powder down the back of his bulging stack of diapers. It kept any rash at bay, but did nothing to mitigate the ceaseless odor or the unrelenting squishing. Kenny wished Brandon a good night, and for a moment, Brandon thought that he'd have a reprieve from Barney. No such luck. Kenny put a final tape in to play, which would chew up two hours, and then he set the timer on the stereo and put a CD in. "I know how much you're starting to love Barney. So when the video ends, the Barney songs will still be here! And I have it set to *repeat.* I'll see you in the morning, stinky!" Though, hypocritically, before he left the living room, Kenny grunted and pushed a fat turd into his own proud pair of Barney-printed diapers; unlike Brandon, he wasn't embarrassed, just relieved and grinning at the warm heft he'd made. The sight of the seat puffing out and Kenny's curling grin was a grim outlook of Brandon's future if he couldn't find a way out of this. Escape was but a fantasy. Brandon had absolutely no leverage to get himself out of the bouncer, especially with the ten pounds of layered stink he had going on. He could hardly keep himself from bouncing, let alone trying to lift himself up out of it. He tried pulling at where the bouncer was anchored, but he wasn't strong or heavy enough to cause anything to move (except him in the bouncer.) And then the cramps from dinner began to roll in, and with his brain addled by over twelve hours of the purple dinosaur, he just gave in and began to void his bowels on purpose. Why fight it? He was stuck here and he was going to poop himself regardless, so he might as well not be in pain trying to stop the inevitable. Brandon eventually got to sleep in the large bouncer, the room filled with his fumes and the sounds of Barney's songs on an endless loop. His dreams reflected his situation, and he continued to sloppily defecate himself in his slumber. The next two days were similar to the first. Brandon never left the bouncer, and Barney's voice never left the room. He was still dropping dookie bombs in his pants and still only being fed the most precarious foods for his meals. Time began to slip from his perception, and Brandon's mind was being destroyed by this mindless, infantile drivel. He found himself humming along with the songs, and sometimes even lipping the lyrics as they played on the TV or on the stereo. He became more docile, the fight having drained out of him, after literal days of the dinosaur. The pacifier had seen a lot more willing use, and Kenny had even lent one of his spare Barney dolls for Brandon to hold onto. If he couldn't keep his grasp on his sanity, then he at least had the comfort of being able to grasp the soft plushie. The sight of the doll actually gave Brandon much comfort; the boy unwittingly become brainwashed already to start appreciating Barney like Kenny did. Brandon's vocabulary was also growing more juvenile with each passing day. He was in such a regressive stupor that he began to talk like a Kindergartner by the end of the fourth day. He started to pick his nose idly; his mouth was more often hung open and he'd even begun to sometimes drool. His mind was becoming as mushy as the dirty diapers that he had to keep bouncing against. Kenny didn't hide how pleased he was with Brandon's ongoing transformation; the younger boy hadn't necessarily had *this* in mind, but the result was far greater than what he could have imagined. With three more days left, it was an interesting idea to ponder: how much lower could Brandon be brought? Better yet, what would the long-term effects be? Brandon seemed pretty out of it now, but would that change once he got to stop indulging in the purple dinosaur? There was no real option for Kenny to ascertain those answers, so he had to run with the assumption that this may not be permanent. Even if that ended up being the case, Kenny could still take enjoyment in what he'd gotten to subject the older boy to. He hadn't hated Brandon at first, but the arrogance and selfishness had changed that quickly. So now if the transformation was more permanent, then he'd have the added bonus of having a playmate that was more of a mushbrained Barney fan than he was. On the dawn of the sixth day, Brandon was talking like a two year old. His words had gotten short, sporadic, and often nonsensical. He was but a step above talking in complete baby babble. He was much more openly drooling on himself and eating his own boogers; he was gleefully filling his stack of Pampers with huge piles of poop, and conducting an orchestra of flatulence to accompany the muck. Brandon *loved* Barney now. Six days of nonstop conditioning had driven him right over the edge. The slobbering moron rallied for Kenny to put in another tape, and Kenny was happy to oblige (though ironically getting a little tired of Barney himself by this point.) Throughout that pungent penultimate day, Kenny had time to think about how he'd present the situation come tomorrow. It probably wasn't the best idea to leave Brandon in the state he was currently in, but he did have to consider the benefits of letting their respective parents come home to the sight of him in the bouncer, myriad loaded diapers around his waist, and with the intellect of an infant. That'd certainly be met with a lot more scrutiny. The adults would question how or why Brandon had put on all of Kenny's dirty diapers and then gotten himself trapped in the bouncer. There would of course still be questions about what had happened to Brandon even if he did tidy the twit up and release him from his prison, but they'd be a little easier to respond to. While Kenny was tackling the big questions, Brandon was singing along to a Barney song, pausing intermittently to grunt and squeeze gassy logs of poop into his pants. The older boy was pleased as punch to feel the mess in his diaper grow hot once more, and he was actively bobbing up and down in the bouncer, so he could spread that wonderful warmth all around. He loved his stinky, poopy diapers almost as much as he loved Barney, and putting the two together was a match made in heaven. After over a hundred unending hours of toddler TV, Brandon wasn't much better off than the target audience for this tripe. He made Kenny look downright mature in comparison, and a genius too. There were still corners of his mind that kept awareness of how he should be, but the primary sections of his brain had been utterly reshaped by the torture he'd been put through. Something unexpected then happened later that morning. There was a ring of the doorbell and Kenny was clueless as to who it could possibly be. When he went to answer it, he was shocked to find their nanny, six days too late. Sheepishly standing at the front door in just his own soiled diaper, he explained to the woman that his parents had actually gone on their trip at the beginning of the week and that she had indeed gotten the date wrong on when she was supposed to start the gig. He added that he and Brandon had been fine during this time, though he wasn't sure exactly how to approach the subject of what had become of the other boy. As the woman came in, already commenting that she'd get Kenny changed into a fresh diaper, her nose began to wrinkle more noticeably at the odor that permeated the downstairs. Entering the living room, she could see what the source of the intense stench was. "...Another boy in diapers? I could have sworn the job only said one.." She murmured to herself, watching Brandon bouncing up and down, drooling vacantly on himself as he watched Barney. "Yeah, well, umm...Brandon said that he was jealous of my diapers, and so he put a bunch on...And uh...He's just been hogging the TV all week...I think he's gotten too used to pretending to be a baby." It was a piss-poor lie, but the nanny was too shocked by the sight of Brandon mindlessly pooing himself to pick it apart. "W-well, first things first, I need to get you two boys changed!" She pulled Brandon up out of the bouncer for the first time in days, and was almost mesmerized by how completely full his diaper was. It wasn't until she was pulling back the waistband of the plastic pants, that she realized he was wearing so many dirty pairs. She shook her head, "Leave boys alone for a few days, and they go completely primitive.." Kenny only offered a nervous grin in return, doing his best to look ignorant and innocent. She mentioned that she'd need to give Brandon a good bath, and Kenny insisted that he could get himself cleaned up in the meantime, since he'd been doing it all week. Ironically, as Brandon had gotten more and more baby-brained, Kenny had been becoming more mature and self-sufficient this whole time. Later, after Brandon's freedom from both the bouncer and the stack of dirty diapers, as well as a much needed bath, he was returned back to the living room. The older boy still looked vacuous, digging around in his own nose, while taped into a clean Barney diaper. He couldn't seem to walk right now either, reduced to crawling, likely as his feet hadn't felt firm ground all week. No longer being brainwashed by Barney and no longer trapped in a thick miasma of stink, his mind looked to be slowly seeing some recovery, but the gains were extremely minimal. Enough time away from the conditioning he'd gone through, and perhaps he could recover to a degree of normalcy once more! Or that *could* have been the case, except the nanny was turning the TV right back on. "I need to call your parents, to let them know that I got the wrong starting date. Can you watch him? Here, I'll turn on some Barney for you two." As she walked away, Kenny found himself bored by the show, while Brandon got a big smile and leaned forward to intently watch. There was a sickeningly wet crackling sound and the backside of Brandon's diaper began to rapidly expand, swelling up with yet another hot mudpie. "Hehe...Barney, me make poopie for you.." The drooly dummy giggled, gyrating his mushy butt around on the carpet. Their respective parents were due home tomorrow night, and Kenny had a funny feeling that Brandon would be going home with some things borrowed from his room.