Story #67: How To Train Your Poobrain (Part I)

Story #67: How To Train Your Poobrain (Part I) (Part 3 of the 'Preteen Poobrain' series) Content Tags: (Messy diapers, humiliation, role reversal, mental merge with dirty diaper, humiliation, diaper sniffing, domination) The stroller rocked and shook from the volatile force being put upon it by my hands. Bradley didn't complain, but since I was loudly verbalizing what I was in the middle of, he probably didn't mind my poobrained outburst. So I was now down the street from our house, trying to get these diapers home in secret, with a big mound of hot, sticky poop in my pants. A big mound of poo that was making endorphins soak into every neuron in my head. I just wanted to grope and squish my own pantload, I wanted to smell my own droppings; it was a type of mindless joy that was unlike any earthly pleasure I had ever felt before the merge. It put me in a blissful, slobbering stupor. "Parker? What are you doin?" The high pitched inquiry snapped me out of it. Coming down the sidewalk toward me was Alfred, one of the younger kids on the street; I didn't have much of a repertoire with him, since he was too young to be a playmate for me and too old to be one for Bradley. "H-huh...?" I wiped my mouth off with my sleeve and tried to push away all the intrusive thoughts that were assaulting my brain. "Just...Umm, walking home from the store. Had to buy diapers...For my baby brother." The tyke tilted his head a little, "Is that why you were yellin' about 'poopy'? Did the baby go poopie in his die-ah-pur?" The stilted and drawn out pronunciation was almost enough to throw my brain into another idiotic haze, but I resisted and stiffly nodded my head. "Y-yup...Gotta get him home, so he can get changed." Alfred immaturely laughed into his hand at the confirmation, and then waved that same hand in front of his nose in a large, exaggerated gesture. "Better hurry! I can smell his doo-doo diapers from here!" I forced a bashful, disingenuous smile. I felt a strange pride well up though, as if it was an honor for the fumes of my dirty disgrace to be smelled by others. Like I was an artist showing off a painting to an adoring public. I almost blurted out that the doo-doo smell was coming from *me*, like I was jealously indignant that Bradley would get the credit. "Uh-huh! Gotta go! Don't want to stink up the whole neighborhood!" I quickly pushed the stroller past Alfred, hoping that he wouldn't notice that I was walking funny, or that my butt looked kind of strange. I didn't exactly want to tank my social standing before all this could get fixed, since then I may be back to normal, but my reputation would be totally ruined. Every step was neurological dynamite. The warm oozing squishies in my diaper was making it harder and harder for me to focus, and the only word that kept blasting my brain was 'poop'. Bradley had remained suspiciously quiet, but it was likely that he was just sitting back and enjoying the theatrics. Finally, mercifully, we got back to the front of our own home. Now came another difficulty. I needed to get these diapers inside and upstairs without my parents noticing them or the rank odor emanating from the one I was wearing. They were typically pretty inattentive, so that boded well, but the risk was still right there. I reached down and lifted Bradley out of the stroller, putting him back on firm ground. "Well, smartypants, how should we get these upstairs all sneaky like?" The toddler looked entertained by how nervous I seemed, but probably also because I still had a dopey, drooly grin from my loaded diaper. "I'll go in first an' make sure that they're not by the stairs." Suspicion nibbled away at me, but I decided that the little genius probably didn't want our parents to get involved, since he was going to be working on fixing the damage that he'd done. So I quietly opened the door and let him inside, pushing the stroller slowly in behind him. The tot went and looked around, before returning to me with a big thumbs up. With the coast clear, I picked up the large package of diapers and made a bowlegged beeline for the stairs. Each step up was another step that smeared the warm waste in my seat, and it was getting progressively more difficult to resist putting my hands back there. Once we made it back to my bedroom, I dropped the package of diapers on my bed and immediately unbuttoned my pants, desperately wiggling myself out of them. I *had* to wallow in what I'd done, I needed to be surrounded by own putrid plumes of stink! I kicked my pants away and grabbed the back of my messy diaper, kneading the backside and getting a better appreciation for the mucky heft. I plopped down on the floor and began to scoot back and forth, more drool starting to accumulate on my chin. "P-pooopie...pooopie...Warm...squishy...Ngghhh...l-love poopies..." Bradley was watching me and barely stifling his snickering, but I was too busy with my own happiness to care. It felt like I had warm play-doh in my diaper, and I wanted to spread its eminence to every corner of the crinkly garment. I only briefly stopped my squelching to lift my left side off the floor and push out a loud, juicy fart into the boom-boom bog below. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." The brainy blond smugly stated, folding his arms and looking down at the undignified way I was conducting myself, like a pig in a mud puddle. He wasn't wrong. I felt like I could do this all day, like I *wanted* to do this all day. The only things that could make it better would be if I could soil myself even more copiously, or if he would bless my senses with another dirty diaper of his own. For now, I'd have to be content with my own fetid fumes and a mid-sized mess in my pants. Bradley stood by and let me continue on like this for a while, at least half an hour, but eventually he was either getting bored of my relentless self-indulgence, or he needed to carry a conversation with me without me focusing entirely on poopy diapers. "Alright, poobrain. Dat's enough for now." He said plainly, looking down at the brown stains that had formed all across the formerly white facade of the youth-sized Huggies on my butt. "Gotta say goodbye to your poopies." "But...b-but...stinkies...squishies.." I brainlessly blathered, my display of obsessed idiocy on full display to the much smarter baby. "J-just five more minutes.." I managed to add, whining like a little kid who didn't want to get up from the TV. "No, you need to get cleaned up. I have a playdate today, remember?" Bradley said, giving my devastated diaper a testing nudge with his sock-clad foot. "You gotta take me, an' I bet you don't wanna go like *this*." The playdate had completely slipped my mind, not that I could really be blamed for that, considering everything that had happened to me today. I was supposed to escort Bradley to go play with some other toddler down the block, and then my parents expected me to hang around with the tot's older brother until it was over. I remembered that I'd thrown a fit about it, thinking it to be a waste of my time. It really was too, since I was older than the tot's sibling, and since Bradley was secretly way too smart to be intellectually stimulated by other babies around his age. All around, nobody would be properly matched up. I groaned and pressed my rump harder against the carpet, wanting to stew in my cauldron of filth for just a moment longer, before I had to say goodbye to it, but Bradley stopped me by giving me a slap to the back of my head. "I said 'now', poobrain! We hafta be there in thirty minutes...You can still tell time, right?" A scowl painted itself across my face, and I began to stand up, my heavily soiled diaper sagging low between my thighs. Bradley stuck out his tongue in disgust at just how badly I'd gone and shook his head, "You gotta clean up in da' shower, den' I'll put a new diapee on you." It took me nearly twenty minutes to clean up and to stow the loaded thing deep into Bradley's diaper pail. Once I'd been deprived of the garment while in the shower, I'd felt my thoughts return to me, but once I was hovering over the open pail, that mucky malaise had again swept over my mind, and Bradley had to drag me away from huffing at the fumes that escaped. Messy diapers were clearly the trigger for the effects of the merger to surface; I could think mostly clearly when they weren't in the mix, but as soon as they *were*, then I became the very 'poobrain' that my baby brother called his pet. I would have to find a way to avoid dirty diapers until I was fixed, but considering I often had to look after Bradley, and that I now had my own diapers to worry about... My prognosis wasn't good, to say the least. Just as he said, Bradley helped me get taped up into a fresh diaper from my pack, and he tossed a couple of them into his own diaper bag for good measure. I threw on some quick, baggy clothes and we rushed out of the house. As we paced briskly down the sidewalk again, Bradley was starting to give me rules and reminders about how I should be acting, and how I needed to behave in front of the ones that would be hosting us for the afternoon. I felt embarrassed to have my baby brother be the one doling out orders and expectations; it was specifically irksome, considering it was his own fault that I was acting this way in the first place! If he hadn't gone this far with his revenge, then I wouldn't be suffering aberrant behaviour in the first place! But here he was, talking down to me like I was a naughty puppy that needed to be housebroken. "...And if Billy poops in his diaper, you can't go sniffin' his butt in fronta' everyone! Are you even listening to me, Parker? You better be on your best behavior, or nex' time I'm gonna bring a leash!" "..I'm listening." I grumbled lowly as we arrived to the house near the end of the street. "..Annnnd? Are you gonna be a 'good' poobrain or a naughty one?" A deep sigh of concession passed my lips and I bobbed my head, "I'll be a good poobrain..."