Story #95: His Biggest Fan

Story #95: His Biggest Fan (Part 4 of 'The Poo-Poo Doll') (Content Tags: Creepy antagonist, stalker behavior, karmic braindrain, mushbrained antagonist, messy diapers, dark storyline, diaper sniffing) Pascal had never been so humiliated in his young life. Worse than simple embarrassment was how much disgust for Renard, and now for himself, that he had brewing inside. He'd *soiled* himself, and he'd done it in front of the moron that seemed so obsessed with Pascal joining in on his Pamper-packing fun. He'd tried to flee, even while his underpants filled with hot mush, but he'd been stopped by his own horrible cramps and the appearance of Renard's extremely unpleasant mother. Pascal tried to 'excuse' himself away, but the back of his rapidly staining shorts was reason enough for the woman to apprehend him and keep him from making a mess anywhere else in her home. She hadn't let him simply leave. That was both a blessing and a curse; considering that Pascal had *walked* here, was he really up to the shame of waddling all the way back home with clearly pooed pants? Or with the turbulent way that his gut was behaving? Instead, the woman angrily led him back to the bathroom he'd hid away in earlier. She directed him to the shower and told him that he needed to clean himself up, while she went to get him something clean to wear. This seemed like a silver lining at first, that he was given the privacy and autonomy to wash himself off, but that small spark of optimism wasn't made to last. Not long after he'd gotten clean and gotten himself dried off, the woman came back and barged in. Pascal squeaked and blushed at the intrusion, but Renard's mother didn't seem to care. She was changing the diapers of a boy the same age as Pascal, and this really didn't seem any different than that to her. Exhibit 'a' would be the diaper that she'd brought with her. She'd also brought some of Renard's clothes, which would be big on Pascal, but those were hardly the main concern here. "I-I can't wear *that*!" Pascal insisted as he watched the woman unfurl the diaper in front of him: It was exceptionally thick, and covered in playful prints more fit for a baby. "Oh? And why not? You plannin' on makin' a big mess on my carpet? Or walkin' home naked as a jaybird?" The woman sarcastically replied, putting a hand on her hip. "...Or is it because you think you're too good to wear one? Huh? You call my son a retard and then go and fill yur' britches up, like you're one yourself. What goes around, comes around. Now come here and let me get you dressed up." Pascal's veins were frigid like ice, but his temper was burning like a roaring inferno. Caught between wildly different emotions and utterly overwhelmed by the last ten minutes, he became pliable to her commands. Pascal shuffled over and allowed the woman to tape the diaper around his waist. It felt even bigger than it looked. It was like having a pillow squeezed between his thighs, and similarly, it was like sitting on one too. The garment was surprisingly comfortable to wear, but for the uninitiated, it was absurdly cumbersome to maneuver with. She then pulled a shirt over his head, and a quick glance down would reveal the smiling visage of Cookie Monster. "Now. I think you should stay and play with my son some more; you can't learn nothin' till you walk a moon in his moccasins." She explained, keeping the matching shorts still in her grasp. Pascal wasn't sure exactly what that folksy phrase was supposed to mean, but he could at least deduce that she thought he needed to better empathize with her 'poor little angel'. The thought of staying another minute made him sick though. "I-I really can't stay--" He shakily began before getting cut off. "Then I guess yur' toddlin' home in them Pampers, ain't ya? You ain't getting any pants from Renny's dresser until you start makin' good on playin' nice." Pascal's mouth hung open in shock. Was she really leveraging *pants* over him? To play with her brainless brat? The same one that kept making creepy advances on him? The look on her face meant she really was serious, and she would have no qualms with letting Pascal humiliate himself by walking home in a big diaper. "H-how long? Because, umm, I told my parents I'd be back before it got dark, and--" "That means you can stay about an hour. I'm sure Renny will be thrilled." She wasn't letting him out of it. So instead of getting to lick his wounds and retreat with tail between his legs, he'd have to stay and suffer the long ego death of wearing diapers in front of the diaper-obsessed dummy. This really wasn't shaping up very well for Pascal. Renard on the other hand had been patiently waiting in the other room. His own diaper still hadn't been attended to, but that was just peachy for him. The dullard *loved* the squishy feeling of a loaded diaper, and he adored the complex aroma that wafted up from the crinkly prison of his potty-pants. Ideally, he tried to have changes put off as long as he could, which was only possible with the excessive capacity of his giant diapers. While he rocked back and forth on his mushy bottom, the boy was thinking intensely (to whatever level that really was now) about Pascal's poopy accident. It'd been what he had spent so much time daydreaming about, and his want had finally manifested before his eyes. So when Pascal had been escorted outside the bathroom, and Renard was able to scope out what the boy was wearing, it was truly an unbelievable sight. Pascal was wearing one of his diapers, which itself was only one step removed from the streamer becoming the absolute poobrain that Renard envisioned him to eventually be. "Diapee!" Was the simple culmination of his joy, and it brought a shamed blush to Pascal's face. "That's right, Renny. Your little friend is wearin' a diaper just like you. After all, big kids still have accidents, ain't that right?" Pascal looked down at the ground, his hands hanging in front of his newfound garment. "...Yup." Would be his bitter little mumble. "And he's gonna stay for some playtime too, won't that be fun? Why don't you boys go in the backyard." Backyard? Where the only thing that would veil them would be a fence that was much too short to matter? Where prying eyes could see that Pascal wasn't just playing with a drooling pantsfiller, but that he was dressed in the same way? "U-uhh, doesn't Renard need to be changed first?" Pascal desperately put out there, hoping to at least buy a little time. "He'll be fine a while longer. Those diapers are heavy-duty, ain't that right Renny?" Renard beamed with a slobbering smile, nodding his empty head and standing up in his sagging diaper. As far as he was concerned, his plus-sized Huggies still had a whole heaping amount of space for his poopies to fill up! Besides, he wouldn't want to deny his beloved Pascal the ripe fumes that would be wafting out. "You boys have fun now." Pascal wasn't sure that would be a real option here. Nothing about this wretched evening had come to even approach fun for him; it'd all been one long slog of constant discomfort and soul-crushing humiliation. Still, he cringed and let Renard lead him to the back door. The boy's stomach still wasn't feeling well; between the severe reaction he was having to the dairy, and the anxiety eating away at his gut, the streamer felt positively ill. The faster this would be over, the better. Once Renard had gotten him outside, Pascal could feel the breeze on his bare thighs; it was an unfamiliar feeling to be this exposed outside the privacy of his own home. Renard closed the door and slowly turned his head to stare at the other boy. "You wear tardee diapee. Like Renny!" True as it was, Pascal didn't want to hear it. After having Renard mention him ending up in diapers earlier, the last thing that Pascal wanted to do was to encourage that demented foresight. "I'm not like you, Renard. We're not similar at *all*." The drooler didn't seem deterred and instead flashed a big toothy smile at his guest. "You did a poopie. Now you in tardee diapee! Pascy like Renny!" The smarter of the two took a step back and huffed. "M'not a retard like *you*. Now drop it and let's play or whatever. Your mom won't give me any pants until I've spent some time pretending to be your friend." He took a look around the small yard and tried to figure out what the best option in this case would be. As he'd seen on his way here, the fences in this neighborhood were short and *chainlink*. Anyone walking by would be able to see the pair, or anyone in adjacent yards. Sure, they might be used to Renard waddling around in poopy diapers, but Pascal's presence might raise an eyebrow or two. So whatever they did to 'play', it needed to offer him enough of a veil to make his diaper less obvious, but still be open enough that he didn't fear getting cornered again by the mushbrain. Choices were slim. He ended up going with the shoddy sandbox in the middle of the yard. If he positioned himself right, and made a castle in front of him, then his diaper may seem less obvious to onlookers. The pair sat down in it, with Pascal taking the side closest to the house. Almost immediately, Pascal was piling up sand in front of him, trying to build a mighty wall to hide his shameful garment. Renard didn't take long to notice, and while it bugged him to be robbed of the sight of his idol's diaper, his deluded mind still considered this to be Pascal playing 'hard to get'. "Pascy like diapee?" "No. I don't like it." The boy's response was honest, but such truth was incompatible to the stalker before him. Renard let out a giggle, thinking Pascal to be silly, and began to move sand around the box with a small plastic shovel. "What's your deal, dude? You may be all stupid now, but you're messing with me and trying to play dumb about it. I don't want *anything* to do with you. We're not friends, or diaper-buddies, or anything else!" The outburst felt freeing in the unsupervised realm of the backyard, where the dummy's mother wouldn't come squawking like an angry crow at him. Renard frowned for the first time since Pascal had come over. Even in the murky depths of his twisted perception, he had to acknowledge that Pascal may not be as fond of him as he was supposed to be. The response to this was not to self-reflect on what he was doing, but to instead double-down on his madness. Just like before Renard's mental crash, it appeared that Pascal truly did need to learn to love him. Renard had already planned to finish his foul doll, but he'd hoped to not really need it; he'd thought that this little study-date of theirs had persuaded Pascal to be his padded playmate and partner Pamper-packer! "Renny like you a *lot*. Renny is Pascy's biggerest fan, watch every stream." The mushbrain responded, burying the lede on what that all really entailed. "Pascy gonna be biggerest fan for Renny." To Pascal, the words were cryptic and borderline meaningless. He'd already known that the creeper was a fan of his, and it was obvious that Renard wanted to be some odd contortion of a 'friend', but what was that last part supposed to mean? "Fan of what? It's not like you're smart enough to do anything anymore. You just drool, fart, and crap in your pants. And maybe sometimes you're picking your nose or bein' gross in a million other ways! Why would I be a fan of *any* of that?" Another angry diatribe from Pascal, but at the end of this one, he accidentally let loose a deep rumble in his diaper. All this emotional venting had been bringing forth the turbulence of his milk allergy; boiling cramps in his belly made him wince, and an immense pressure in his lower gut made him rip another loud one. "U-ughh...It hurts so bad..." Pascal muttered, gripping at his stomach with both hands, seemingly unable to stop himself from peppering his Pampers with juicy farts. "Pascy farding! Pascy gonna make poo-poo diapee?" Renard eagerly speculated, leaning forward in the sand box. "N-no! I'm not! I just..." Pascal gritted his teeth and started to stand up. He shifted his hands from supporting his belly to supporting his padded rear. The huge bulk of the diaper was truly dawning on him now. It was so thick, that it made it extremely difficult to effectively clench his buttcheeks. It made enough sense for the demographic that'd be needing them, since having to hold back a BM was a task far beyond their comprehension, but for a 'normal' kid like Pascal, it was pretty much cutting his bowel control by at least half. "Just need...to go...inside..." He grunted, beginning to turn around, so that he could flee and perhaps keep some shred of his dignity. Renard grabbed him by the wrist, pulling Pascal's hand away from the diaper. "No. Pascy make big smelly poopie for Renny. Me biggest fan, me earn it." There wasn't any time to dissect that disturbing snippet, or even to really perceive it. The only thing in Pascal's world right now was the overwhelming agony in his tummy, and the desperate need to reach a bathroom. Pascal tugged his wrist away in vain; Renard, having put on the pounds in his new state, was acting as an unmovable anchor. Another sloppy fart blasted Pascal's Pampers, and the boy could feel that something that oozed out with it. His timeframe was shortening exponentially, and he was slipping ever closer into giving up. His aching bowels cried for relief! "L-let go...I can...ugghh...I can..." Pascal's words grew weaker as his pleading came out as a defeated mewling. Poop was starting to creep into his diaper, even without the propulsive power of his wild flatulence. It was a spreading warmth that signified the end had come; the advance party arriving only to inform that a million strong stood behind them. With the gurgling reaching a peak, Pascal was defeated. It was an explosion. Mount Crapatoa erupted, and the magmatic mush came like a cannonball to his diaper. The backside puffed out immediately in a sickening squelch and let some discolored stains begin to form. The immediate blast was voluminous, but hardly told the end of things. Lingering trumpet notes cast additional volleys to the vile vestments. Renard was all in on it. He'd positioned himself just where he wanted to most be, which was nose-first into the expanding backside of Pascal's diaper. This was huge! Even bigger than getting Pascal in diapers in the first place! He was actually getting to huff the hefty Huggies of his beloved idol! And since it was one of Renard's diapers, this was like an autograph of sorts! A dream come true for Pascal's biggest, most fervently devoted fan, but a nightmare of epic proportions for the streaming star himself. Having some of the worst diarrhea of his life, while taped in giant tardpants, while he could feel that this freak was nuzzling his nose deeply against the diaper's still-filling rear. This went on for agonizing minutes. Just uncontrollable soiling and deep whiffs from the fragrance of fame. It only got broken up by the backdoor opening up and Renard's mother asking what were they up to. Pascal had at least earned his shorts to walk home in, and embarrassingly a diaper change to match. From that pail, Renard had earned a much greater prize; with a dirty diaper directly from his target, the final piece of the puzzle had been completed. The horrid doll could be finished. It would become time to start swaying fate in his favor.