Story #29: A New Filter Factor

Story #29: A New Filter Factor (A sequel to 'Underneath the Filter') My little brother had been very serious in what he had meant. After making the 'phone call' on the toddler toy, he had taken me by the hand and walked me out of his room, all the while commenting on how much I was stinking the place up. I couldn't really argue with that, and after his most recent 'wish', I had found myself enjoying the scent that emanated from my immense diaper. As he led me back to the living room and made me sit back on the ground, I was truly understanding just how much I had been made to love this; not just the earthy fragrance, but the warmth and sensations of having a packed seat. It was unnerving of course. After all, he hadn't simply affected me on a physical level this time, but on a mental one. He'd rewritten a core part of my mind, and that meant he could go much further with it, if that was truly his intention. As of right now, I appeared as a mushbrain to everyone around me, but with a quick 'call' he could make it real. I shuddered at the grim thought, but also at the contrasting pleasure of grinding my messy seat against the carpet. I still couldn't be sure if this was a blessing or not; if he wasn't willing to change back everything else, then perhaps it would be better to at least be able to enjoy the ride, regardless of how demeaning it was. "Alright, I'm gonna turn Barney back on for ya, and you're gonna stay down here. I don't wanna catch you snoopin' around my room again...Or makin' it stink like dookie!" He chastised me as he fiddled with the remote and got the purple dinosaur back on the screen. With my mind still intact, he must know how much I truly despised this. Making an adult watch something so horrifically juvenile might as well have been a form of torture, but fortunately for me, my mind was much more preoccupied with the squishy pile in my pants and the fumes that were radiating off of my crinkly seat. "Now you better behave...I'd hate to hafta make two phone calls in one day!" He threatened with a devilish little grin. "Uh...huh..." I mindlessly responded, which seemed to satisfy him enough to leave back to his room. As to be expected, my soiled state was eventually discovered and taken care of. Instead of the usual singular indignity of a messy diaper change, I now also could feel the shame of resenting the fact that I even got a change in the first place. Over the next few days, I would find myself intentionally pushing on my bowels in an attempt to force something along, whenever I was in a clean diaper. Fortunately for this new mindset, an uptick in the frequency of messes did not equal an increase in changes; if anything, I was getting fewer changes, as I would go off to hide and enjoy the fruits of my labor, instead of seeking out an immediate reprieve. I was growing more comfortable with my new lot in life, which was something that actually struck fear in my heart. I knew that I needed to remain determined and that I needed to keep my mind sharpened and my resolve strong. Knowing these things was not enough though; my willpower crumbled like a sand castle in the tide, as soon as I made 'squishies' in my 'diapee'. It was frustrating to be at such odd ends with myself, to want to break free of this newfound obsession, so that it didn't stymie my motivation for freedom. I now knew the object of his power, so my resolve should have been strengthened to vast levels of burning passion; I could now approach fixing things with a clear plan of attack! But... My thoughts were now muddled with 'mud' in my britches that I loved so very much. The rationalization of knowing that these feelings were implanted should have been enough to circumvent this problem, but I found myself completely torn. Another opportunity would soon arise for me, and I knew that I needed to take the chance, while I was still lucid enough to 'want' salvation from this filter that had been placed over my being. My little brother had gone outside to play with his friends, my diaper had just been changed, and I was assumed to be taking a much-needed nap. I would need to be quick and quiet. With my steps as ginger as I could currently make them, I crept from my room and began to plod down the hall with a constant rustling from the bulky adult diaper around my waist. As usual, the large bib that draped onto my chest was damp with drool; if everything went according to plan, that'd soon be a distant memory of a past nuisance. Cautiously, I opened the door to his room. Like last time, the floor was littered with his toys and an assortment of clothes and other miscellaneous clutter. I weaved between some Lego landmines, nearly losing my balance from the 'graceful' maneuver. With coordination like a toddler, except in the body of a full sized adult, it was a miracle that I could toddle with any sense of balance at all. As I neared his toy chest, I took another cursory glance behind me, to make sure that I was still in the clear. The last thing I needed was that brat coming back and seeing what I was doing; I might have been triple his puny size, but the filter still prevented me from doing anything with it. I towered over the shrimp and could probably toss him, but I now had to be gentle as a lamb, and completely obedient to his orders. I opened the toy chest, almost fearing that my brother would surely be too smart to not change the hiding spot after last time. It would take some major stupidity or some major arrogance to not any precautions against me finding this dumb toy phone. No way. There it was, submerged under a rather shallow trove of other toys. Not only had my brother not moved the damn thing, he hadn't even buried it any deeper! Already, I could imagine what my next line of action would be. I'd fix myself, first and foremost. But after that? I'd give my bratty little brother a taste of his own medicine, and then I'd smash the fucking thing into a million plastic pieces. My drooly lips curved up into a giddy grin. No more bibs, no more babbling, no more being seen as a retard, and no more shitty diapers! My hand paused inches away from the toy. I felt an anxiety suddenly pulsating throughout my entire nervous system, as if I was on the verge of an insurmountable grief. No more shitty diapers.. I grimaced, with the thought gnawing at my brain. I was stunned, made to brace for the impact of loss; made to prepare for the mourning of something that now brought me an indescribable joy. I knew that this feeling wasn't really mine...Didn't I? This desire had been forced upon me, so I should have been able to continue on with ease! But, I couldn't. Moments away from freedom, and I was contemplating ways that I could justify remaining enslaved to this inorganic set of circumstances. I couldn't give it up cold turkey; it was like an addiction, and I would have to bargain with myself to proceed any further. Just one more time. One final poopy diaper to enjoy, and then I'll fix everything, and then I won't even miss it! I told myself, finally allowing my hands to scoop the phone up out of the chest. I placed it on the floor in front of me and took a deep breath. I'd only been in here for a few minutes, so I allowed myself to feel comfortable in the scope of time that I should have to accomplish everything. I was too blinded by my own hedonistic thoughts to consider how risky I was making this. I was acting like a teenager who risked smoking a cigarette during the time it would take for his parents to get home; the 'want' was so intense that I convinced myself the time-frame was totally reasonable. I got onto all fours, planting my palms and knees against the carpet. My plentifully padded posterior positioned upward and I began to push. The rush of dopamine was incomparable to any drug that I'd tried as a teenager, especially upon the moment that the first steamer made its impact against the 'wall' that was my diaper's seat. I bit my lip and squinted, feeling utterly uplifted as the log continued to make landfall in my plus-sized Pampers. Slobber began to more rapidly accumulate from my maw, coating my chin in a glistening slickness, before dripping its way down to further soak my bib. "Nnnggg...PoOoOo-PoO! Make...POOPIES!" I was compelled to moan, devolving beneath any outward sense of dignity. I pushed harder, hearing a rapturous fart in response, and then being immediately rewarded with yet another sizable turd. Now that I was right in the midst of it, I wouldn't be able to turn back for anything. It was as if nothing else mattered in this moment. My diaper was beginning to get heavier, but it was also becoming more taxing to keep this party going. I began to have to strain even harder, which led to longwinded grunts and cherry-cheeks. I felt like I had to go all out, if this was to be the last messy diaper that I could enjoy. Finally, after what had been several minutes dedicated specifically to the filling of my pants, I felt that I'd done all that I could for now. I reached around the rubbed at the back of my diaper, cupping a hand around one of the warm lumps that I had so proudly produced. While I had loaded up my diaper quite significantly, the total rush hadn't yet ended for me. I still had to allow myself time to enjoy all the hard work I'd put in to this. I massaged my squishy backside for a few more moments, before I began to lower my rump to the floor, so that I could sit and squish around in it. A broad smile etched itself onto my face as the fresh muck oozed all throughout my diaper; I began to gyrate my hips, listening to the relentless squishing it provided. I looked again at the toy phone. Just a few more minutes of bliss, and then I'll take care of business, for real! I just...I just need to stew a little bit longer.. The next few minutes would be crucial in determining my future. I hoped I would have the strength to do what needed to be done.