Tale #46: The Downward Slope

Tale #46: The Downward Slope (Content Tags: Severe brain damage, brain damage from avoidable accident, drool, messy diapers, teen characters, role reversal) Richter was always testing the bounds of his limits. The teen was bold, fearless, and he never shied away from a challenge, no matter how dangerous it seemed. Richter was also now drooling on himself and sitting in a stinking diaper-pile of his own putrid creation. As it turns out, being bold will only get someone so far, and being fearless only meant that someone was too stupid to evaluate risks. There was little that could be said against that, what with the evidence being so bleakly presented. Being 'cool' in front of other teens and not taking a moment to think about consequences had directly led to him never being cool again or being able to think about much at all in the first place. There wasn't much a chance that he'd be getting into anyone's pants when he was incapable of unbuttoning his own, or more importantly, incapable of not shitting his own. His popularity hadn't held on after the accident. Pity only stretched so far, doubly so when considering that his friend group had been as shallow as a puddle after a light drizzle. So perhaps people felt bad for him, to see him reduced into such a slobbering imbecile, but sympathy swiftly turned sour once the first one cracked a crude joke. 'Reckless Richter' was changed to 'Retard Richter', as if his stunt on the slopes hadn't been coaxed by their peer pressure, and that this was all the unfortunate result of his buffoonery. They'd pushed him one dare too far, and now didn't even have the courtesy to refrain from slurring against him in his new state. At the very least, he didn't seem to realize he was being insulted. He thought 'Retard' must be some affectionate nickname, instead of a cruel descriptor of the oatmeal his brain had been scrambled into. He'd just smile broadly, with that drooly, toothless maw and proceed to responding with a wet, gurgling fart in his dopey adult diapers. Mentally, he was more like a baby now. If there was to be a guess, his brain age could be narrowed down to between one and two years old. His vocabulary was small and he mostly babbled, his coordination was often shoddy, and his diaper usage was on par with an infant. It hardly felt that the moron could go more than ten minutes without carelessly squeezing out more logs into his pants. Sometimes he went to school, if Special Ed could be counted, but even there he was a way out of his intellectual weight class. Compared to his fellow mushbrained peers, he was easily at the bottom of the barrel, and it wasn't even close. His brother had adapted since the accident. Kurt, the younger of the two at fifteen, had been distraught at first. As much as he had hated his older brother, he hadn't wanted to see him end up in such a devolved state. Over time, his thoughts on the matter began to shift; maybe this wasn't such a bad thing? Kurt had been there the day it had happened. Him and Richter had gone to snowboard at the local slopes, and Richter of course had invited his whole crew. Neither of the brothers were exceptional at snowboarding, but only one of them had been foolhardy enough to go on the most treacherous slope. Kurt had distinctively told his brother that he shouldn't go on the professional path, but Richter had brushed him off and gone up there anyway. It was just the last middle finger his idiotic older brother had given him after a lifetime of them. Now that the teen was eating boogers and watching baby shows, he was a lot easier to control, and he was far more likely to take Kurt's suggestions into consideration. It also meant no more bullying from the older boy, and he also got all of Richter's old stuff. Even his allowance had doubled, since the diaper-shitting retard had no use for money. It'd been nearly a year since the accident had happened. Everything about it had become normal and routine; any vestiges of what Richter had once been had all swept away like dust in the wind. The once athletic teen had become very overweight in his more slovenly lifestyle, and care for retaining his dignity had fallen to an all-time low. He sat on the carpet, wearing nothing but a soaked drool bib and an immensely thick adult diaper that his pudgy belly hung over the front of. Snot idly hung from his nostrils, while his vacant eyes stared intently at the television screen. Kurt sat on the couch in the back, texting on his phone and trying to ignore the disgustingly saccharine sounds of the baby show being played. The year had been as good to him as it had been bad for his brother; he'd assimilated much of the moron's former friend circle and become similar to what his older brother had once been. Kurt was cool, he was bold. While Richter had degraded into a blubbery baby with no friends, Kurt had matured into an athletic young man with plenty. Their trajectories were the same, just inverted. The younger brother looked up from his phone, a sly smile dancing across his lips. "Hey bro, hope you don't mind, but me and Lexi started going out." Lexi had been Richter's girlfriend up until the accident. She was a vapid 'mean girl', so it wasn't difficult to understand why she'd broken things off pretty quickly and taken to mocking her ex boyfriend to anyone who asked about him. The fact that she thought it appropriate to date the younger brother of her ex was completely contingent on the fact that Kurt's popularity had exploded up to where Richter's once was. Richter tilted his head, seemingly unaware that he should be upset. "Aba goo?" He babbled in return, pearls of drool hanging from his lips. Kurt snickered, "Yup, exactly. Glad that you're okay with it. I guess you're more interested in your shitty diapers now, instead of having a girlfriend." A wet ripple reverberated in the back of the plus-sized diaper and the moron began to scrunch up his face. "Nngh...P-pooo.." He lifted up his flabby rump from the carpet and let loose another gassy outburst, though this one concluded with the sound of something powerfully splattering the interior of the puffy white diaper. "P-Poopie!" Kurt groaned and shook his head at the sights and sounds in front of him. "Yup, I guess you *have* been in a clean diaper for more than twenty minutes. Must be a record, huh?" His snark was lost on his brain-damaged brother, who instead was getting on his hands and knees and beginning to loudly grunt, his chubby gut nearly brushing against the carpet in its sag. Richter started to loudly grunt and wiggle his giant padded rump; his defecation was a disgusting orchestra of flatulence and the cutting of turds, and the bulky adult diaper bulged and swelled with the warm weight of each of his droppings. Richter's tongue even hung out amidst the fudging of his tardpants, and Kurt grimaced at the sight of how lowly his brother had devolved. It happened every day, multiple times in fact, but it still seemed surreal to witness. After some much louder grunts, Kurt could see the back of Richter's diaper bulging yet again, but this time with a solid python that was running out of room in the cramped quarters of the garment. "MMMPHH! HRMM! P-POOOOP!" The anaconda began to coil as it made space for itself in the ever-expanding seat, and after a full two minutes of powerful pooping, Richter collapsed onto his stomach, reduced to a sweaty heap. After a few moments of rest, the tubby dullard raised himself back up enough to flip over. His eyes filled with mindless pleasure as the the multi-pound pile of steaming hot excrement squished underneath his buttcheeks. As Kurt had come to expect, Richter would now spend the next twenty minutes mucking around in his own fuming filth. Kurt decided that it was time to take his leave, before he had to police Richter putting his hand down his diaper, or worse, before he might have to change him. The teen got off the couch and gave his brother's hair a tussle as he headed for the door, "Catch ya later, bro. Going to the slopes today with my friends...Well, the ones who *used* to be your friends. I'll tell you all about it later." Richter sat at the bottom of a slope, with a dung-packed diaper taped around him, while Kurt was about to reach the tippy top of the slope. The only question would be if he learned from the mistakes of the past.