Story #16: A Scan Artist Punished

Brennan was a genius, a real child prodigy. At least, that was what people though. The truth was a little more complicated than that and more or less put him as a slick grifter. The little boy had a power that no one else knew about, and wouldn't have been able to understand anyways. He could project his mind out of his body and scan the minds of others, or even objects for that matter. It was a form of telepathy, but one that could dig out information with much less effort and much more risk. After scanning the information, he could then decide to use it and discard it, or instead allow the information to be imprinted onto his brain, encoding him in a more permanent way. He tended to just go with the first option. The act of actually grafting information to his brain was uncomfortable and unpredictable, and as far as he was concerned, unnecessary. Even if it was just temporary, his ability allowed him to crowdsource information and appear as a genius, and that was good enough for him. His lackadaisical usage of these forces wouldn't go unpunished forever though, and the day had now arrived that he'd be burned by his own reckless arrogance. It was a test day, and while he cheerfully swung his legs under his desk, a looming doom was on the horizon. The test was placed in front of him, but Brennan wasn't concerned about it. He would wait a few minutes, before focusing and letting his mind begin to move around the room, gathering test answers from his older classmates. Between all the minds in the room, no question was a problem to solve, when Brennan would be utterly incompetent on his own. It came down to the final question, a bonus question that was meant to be borderline impossible. No one in the class had a clue, and he considered attempting to scan his teacher, but decided against the attempt, since adults seemed so much more difficult to scan. Instead, he decided to cross the hall and try the real genius of their grade, who was currently in a different subject. This was risky, since the further the range, the less control he had. He decided to go for it; after all, he had a reputation to maintain! Brennan focused deeply and started to project his mind outside of the classroom, and by horrible coincidence, something would intercept him. One of those stupid kids in the special ed classes; a boy around his age, though only physically, whereas mentally he fell awfully short. He was being escorted down the hall by a teacher, when suddenly he stopped and began to grunt. Brennan's mind impacted with the applesauce that the other boy called a brain, and with the range, he couldn't immediately eject himself. The connection felt like a thick haze that slackened Brennan's brow, and he could see the brazen thoughts on display of how the other boy was bent on taking a dump in his diaper. Brennan began to panic, realizing that he wasn't discarding anything, and instead was headed for a total imprinting of the addled mind, if he couldn't change course. Each second was an eternity and was bringing forth a reality where his brain became hybridized with some drooly pantsfiller. He tried to force himself to eject, which would randomly put his mind nearby instead; his hopes were that it would put him in the teacher's head. That was not the case. His mind exited one bad place, only to go south and arrive somewhere a million times worse. He'd never scanned objects as much as people, and he'd definitely never imprinted anything from an object. The 'information' typically wasn't as useful or interesting. He'd never thought he'd end up scanning a dirty diaper of all things, especially one still being put to good use. The imprinting again ran rampant, though the impressions were more generalized than the nuances of working with a living cognition. Between the mushbrain and the poopy diaper sagging between his legs, Brennan's brain had effectively been corrupted. His mind would return to him, just in time for him to write 'pOoP' as the answer to the bonus question, and for him to lift his butt from his chair and start to let a load push out into his briefs. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. The obsession given by his newly minted mind was a slow moving infection that would leave Brennan completely focused on dookie-diapers, and not just necessarily his own. He'd be aware of the degradation, painfully so, but he'd also be unable to stop himself from sinking to the depths of shame. He could feel the warm muck starting to fill out the entire back of his juvenile briefs, and the smell began to waft throughout the class. He'd been so set on answering a completely optional bonus question, just for the purpose of his ego, and now he had essentially mind-melded with a stinky diaper and turned himself into a poobrained moron. It'd only get worse as the corruption of his mind spread; it looks like the grift was finally up.