Story #8: My Neighbor the Witch Boy

The present problem was the need to poop. It shouldn't have been something that registered as being problematic, especially for a stunning intellect such as mine, but here we were. I could feel another cramp strike at my gut, like a cobra which had sprung forth from its coil and sunk its fangs squarely into my abdomen. I felt a grunt involuntarily escape, spewing forth a glob of drool down my chin in its wake; a wet rumble immediately followed and sputtered powerfully against the well-cushioned seat of my diaper. "Sounds like the witching hour is near, my precious little pet. Soon enough the curse will be complete, and you'll take the shape of my empty-headed little thrall." From my crumpled position on the floor, in which my padded rump lay flat to the linoleum and my legs splayed out uselessly in front of me, I tilted my spittle-slickened chin upward. "N--nn--noo... Me still have time.." My own words, made stunted and slow, filled me with both shock and shame. Over the course of the curse's torment, I had already had to grow accustomed to each ego-shredding facet, but the dimming of my once-brilliant intelligence was a blow too painful. I watched him tap on his wrist as a gesture, while a bemused grin began to creep across his face. "Oh yeah, I guess you do have some time left! Tick-tock, tick-tock, how many minutes have you left on the clock? I bet you wouldn't even be able to tell by now, huh? Telling time is a little out of your mental weight class..." He wasn't completely wrong. Looking at the clock that hung ominously on the wall, its secret was hidden well from me; long hand, short hand, none of it made any real sense anymore; even the numbers had become total gibberish. Another toot slipped out, but this one was high-pitched and devolved into a sloppy, trumpeting finish. In an act of rebellion to the end, I pressed both of my hands firmly against the backside of the diaper, in a pitiful hope that I could stop his plot. "Oh, come on now! It won't be so bad. I'll even get you some crayons to gnaw on to celebrate! Thirty-two colors, buddy, that's the premium purchase! A real buffoon buffet, don't you think?" It was a one-sided conversation. The only retorts that I could make were shallow pained grunts and gassy rhapsodies. The only words I could get out were: "S-smarter-er...than...you!" The boy's expression would soften for a moment, as if telling a child why they couldn't have ice cream before dinner. "Yeah champ, that was kind of the whole problem. A dirty, stupid human can't be getting better test scores than a kin of magic blood, y'know? Witches have their place at the top, and you...normies, well, you're supposed to be more like monkeys at the zoo; loud, dumb, and sticking your hand down the back of your diapers to-- well, no need to be crude, I'm sure you get the point." He'd already explained himself at the start, and in equally plain terms, but it still embittered me to hear it all over again. My neighbor was secretly a young witch, and out of a petty affront to his fragile ego, he was now going to turn me into a drooling, pantspooping retard as some kind of punishment; All while being a sanctimonious brat about it! "Only ten minutes left. Can you even count to ten anymore? I guess that's not really important...The real question is, can you not poop your diaper for a whole ten minutes? Think about it and really let that pressure wash over you; the moment you mess up and the payload hits the parchment, it'll be game over! Your IQ won't be the only thing that belongs to me; you'll be my mushbrained little helper...Or well, pet is more accurate. I'd offer apprentice as a title, but I don't think you'd be capable of much beyond some poo-magic, hmm?" His obnoxious blathering sure hadn't been helping things, and I couldn't help but to screech at him to shut up. That was enough to do me in, and with only minutes left to go. I tilted forward, hands still firmly gripping my own rump. This was it. I could feel that my body was starting to involuntarily push and strain. For as much effort as I had put into holding onto this last vestige of my tattered continence, it was as if I had made no defensive effort at all. I could feel my buttcheeks spreading inside the diaper and the only repeating signal in my brain was to 'push' at full force. "Nnnghh! Mmmppphh! G-gotta m-make POO-POO!" I shamefully erupted past drool-coated lips, my eyes shutting tightly in both the strain and a vain effort not to witness my own wretched descent into this dismal devolution. I could hear a muffled crackling sound coming from my seat before I felt what behemoth was making a mighty landfall, like hearing thunder before seeing the lightning. It was such an almighty leviathan, that I had to completely shift into a crawling position and lift my puffy butt up toward the sky. The plastic-backed material of the diaper loudly crinkled and rustled in protest of the sheer bounty of my 'tinky tribute. "Aww, and you were so close! I mean it, buddy; just a couple of minutes away from getting to keep that big brain of yours! But unfortunately for you, now I get to keep it...and you, of course. If nothing else, you'll be a good little manure-maker; maybe the remnants of that 'genius' will make my special brewing plants grow better!" My mind was effectively becoming more muddled as my diaper did the same; with each inch that I pushed into my Pampers, I could feel more and more of my neurons starting to dim their brilliance. The drool had become like a fountain, and the gas like an immature schoolboy with a soundboard The befouling lasted entire minutes; just a slow, pungent climb down into the mortifying nature of my own existence. As my diaper got fuller, my appreciation for it began to grow. The squish, the warmth, the smell... All that had been left was a love for poopy diapers and an obedience for my new master.