Story #190: Simon Says (Part 4: The Fair)

Story #190: Simon Says (Part 4: The Fair) (Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, mind control, made to wear someone else's messy diaper, diaper sniffing, degradation) Whenever Simon had made mention of having 'fun' at the fair, it would now appear that he had quite obviously only been speaking to the amusement that he himself would be allowed to enjoy. The fetid odor that followed Buster, while he clumsily waddled around, was a testament to that. People wrinkled their nose in his wake, and Buster could hardly blame them; even with the fumes being of his own brand, he found himself feeling disgusted by the ever present scent. He was supposed to be making a good example of himself, for his mom and for his club, but right now he was just the kid that smelled like shit. His typical respectability had been flipped completely around, and it was obvious that things would only get worse. "You sure are popular with the flies today, Buster." Simon snickered, walking alongside his chubby captive. The interior of the giant diaper he had been forced to wear? Completely spotless and fresh. That wasn't where the smell was coming from. The smell was coming from *outside* the diaper; more specifically, from the dirtied briefs being used as a diaper cover. That was why Simon had stopped him from throwing the loaded pair away. Instead, the lumpy undies had been pulled up over his diaper, and then he'd been allowed to get dressed over them. Buster recoiled and cringed as he thought about how gross it had felt to pull those smelly britches back up his legs, and to feel as the large lump pressed against the outside of his diaper. It was peculiar and extremely awkward to move around with, which was saying something when considering how much trouble he was having with the diaper alone. The only silver lining was that his pantload had been very firm, like a lump of clay, so his pants were mostly safe and the mess inside was mostly secure. Buster was unable to disobey what Simon had told him, which was that they would be attending the fair *together*, and that Buster would be following Simon's every edict, which was itself a bit redundant. He wasn't allowed to talk about Simon's powers, or to act as if the boy was being antagonistic toward him; he was to play the part of a friendly fool. The festival was just as Buster had expected it to be. Booths were set up, a handful of ramshackle rides were operational, and everyone from around town was enjoying themselves. It was the same as every year, except that Buster wouldn't be having any fun this time. Simon led Buster to a carousel that had been set up and pointed it out, "Do you want to start out with riding the pretty horsies?" Buster blushed at the boy's condescending tone and frowned, "N-no..." "I say that you do. Simon says that you're going to go for a round on the carousel in those poopy britches of yours, and while you do, I'm going to go take care of something." Simon patted him on the head. There was no choice in the matter. Buster got in line to ride the carousel with all the little kids; the ones he was closest to were wrinkling their nose as he brought a stench of poo with him, which was only muted by the open air of the environment and all the more pleasant odors in the air. While he got in line, Simon cackled and walked away. Simon made his way to the food area and found the two eating contests that would be going on today; the first was a pie eating contest, and the second was chili. It was the wicked boy's plan to enroll Buster in both, to make him look like a fat pig and to make sure that he made wildly liberal use of the immense diaper that he had been taped into. Meanwhile, at the carousel, Buster would run into Bailey and Theodore. Both Buster and Bailey wanted to talk to one another about Simon, with Bailey wanting to warn Buster, and Buster wanting to plot strategy against the supernaturally gifted boy, but neither were allowed to discuss him. Instead, they had to make idle chitchat, as if nothing was wrong. Bailey kept catching whiffs of the dirty briefs that Buster had beneath his pants, but he excitedly assumed that it was his baby brother; he checked the back of Theodore's Pampers multiple times, hopeful that he'd see a beautiful mudslide that he could snoof, but he had no such luck. It was a blessing really, and Bailey knew that, but his mind had been so horribly twisted by Simon, that his impulses craved the degeneracy of dirty diapers, even though his core personality shrieked in horror at the thought of anything remotely filthy or germ-ridden. It came to be their turn on the carousel and all three boys got on, with Bailey sharing a horse with his baby brother, while Buster's big butt was riding solo on one of his own. Buster could feel the lump flattening as he sat down on the horse, further plastered the turd-stuffed underpants to his diaper, as if being glued. Fortunately for his dignity that his trousers were a dark color, and that the load he was hauling was firm and sticky, so that nobody saw from the outside that he was riding dirty. Meanwhile, Simon had made his way back to where he left Buster, and he smiled whenever he saw that Bailey was here as well. He waited for the carousel to come to an end, and then he greeted the trio with a broad grin. "Did you two have fun riding the horsies? I see that you're babysitting like a good big brother, Bailey." The third grader frowned and folded his arms, but the words he wanted to say were fleeting from his mind. He was afraid to say anything too bold, since he knew that Simon could easily make his life a lot worse with little effort. "...Yeah, Theodore wanted to ride, so I took him." The toddler remembered Simon from the day before, but he didn't have any concept of what the boy was capable of. His memory of being used as a tool to torment Bailey was hazy, and so he didn't have the same anxiety that his older brother did. "The horsies was fun!" He chirped. "Good! Bailey, why don't you go and take your brother to be watched by someone else. There's a kiddy corner for the little kids that you can dump him off at. You deserve to have some big boy fun; you *are* a member of the illustrious Big Boy's club after all." Simon smirked, already having an idea of what he wanted to do with the boy. Bailey didn't have a choice in the matter, so he just weakly nodded his head and took Theodore by the hand to lead him off. He thought that if he left immediately, then Simon wouldn't realize that his command hadn't made any mention of returning, and thus he could simply duck Simon for the rest of the afternoon. But Simon hadn't made any mistake here; he'd passed the little toddler zone on the way to and from the food area, and he knew exactly what Bailey would get wrapped up in, because he'd stopped briefly to offer some of his special words to the caretakers who were volunteering their time. Bailey would be getting trapped there for a while, and knowing what all this greasy fair food would be doing to the tykes there, he'd have his hands full with what would naturally be the consequence. Buster watched his friend march off and turned his attention back to Simon, "He seemed...Normal. Sort of..." "But not completely, hm?" "I guess I've never seen him check Theodore's diaper before. I didn't think he'd even ever touch one, let alone look inside." Simon let out a laugh and pulled Buster by the hand to keep moving, "I guess he's not as much of a prissy little prince as he used to be, is he? Maybe he's a dirty little piggy like you." That put a blush on Buster's face, but he didn't make any further comment on the matter, instead simply toddling along with the cruel boy that he had to consider his master. With some time before the first eating contest was to begin, Simon took Buster to pregame at some of the food booths: cotton candy, corn dogs, and whatever other fried trash that he could find. He wanted to make sure that Buster was well filled for the big show. In the meantime, Bailey had taken his brother to the little area that Simon had mentioned. It was a colorful section of the fair that had attractions and activities for much younger children, that was closed off from the rest of the fair, so that people could either drop off their tots or play with them in a more fitting environment. He went to sign Theodore in, but the lady with the clipboard went on to ask for his name as well. Thinking that it was typical paperwork, he signed in his own name too, and walked inside what was effectively a massive playpen. "Okay Theo, I'll come and pick you up in a little while, okay? Play nice with the other babies." The toddler nodded and immediately went to find his preschool pals, not at all dismayed by being relegated to what was fundamentally a little slice of daycare. Bailey watched him saunter off and let out a sigh of relief; ever since yesterday, he had been struggling with the artificial impulses that Simon had imbued him with, and he knew that being around Theodore was a recipe for degradation. Whenever he returned to the entrance and tried to leave, one of the caretakers stopped him and forced him to turn around: "Uh-oh! Silly boy, you can't leave without your mommy or daddy coming to pick you up." The boy blinked, "Huh? N-no, I was just dropping off my little brother. I'm too old for this place." It was as if she wasn't even listening to him; she gave him a pat on the rear and directed him to turn around, "There's all sorts of fun in here for you sweetie. You can get your face painted, or you can get a snack, or you can play in the bounce house..." It was at that point that Bailey realized that he had signed himself in, and for whatever reason, the adults in here refused to acknowledge his maturity. He was on the small side, sure, but this place was for Kindergarten kids and below, which he was obviously above! It then struck him that there might have been a reason that Simon suggested he come drop off his baby brother, beyond just trying to get him alone; Simon must have already come by here and worked his magic in advance, with the knowledge that Bailey would be at the fair today! The older boy had thought of things in advance, but to what end? What was the point of getting Bailey stuck in the little daycare area? **BRRRRRRAAAAPPP! FLLLRRRT! PBBBFFFTT!** The boy's ears perked up at the foul, sloppy sounds that breached the air. It sounded like pudding getting shot through a high pressure hose and into a crinkly, plastic bag. It was a highly titillating sound that put a buzz throughout his brain and set him on high alert. It was undeniably the symphony of a pair of Pampers being explosively packed with hot, soft mush. It made his brain feel as though it was made out of jello, and his focus tightened like he was a wolf hearing the frolicking hops of a rabbit in the woods. Bailey glanced around in an effort to locate where the rude noises were originating from; with a place full of tots, he thought it would be like finding a needle in a haystack, but it ended up being a lot closer than he'd expected. Less than ten feet away, a little boy, maybe a little older than his brother, was bent over with his hands on his pudgy tummy. Bailey stared, seeing the grimace on the younger boy's red face, and the clenching of his jaw. The boy was groaning in discomfort, obviously having been the victim of overindulgence in the banquet of fried food that the fair had to offer; this was an obvious conclusion for a little tyke with a sensitive tummy and who still was clad in Pampers like a toddler. Another wave of explosive diarrhea began to splatter the diaper under his shorts, squirting and plopping rapidly, while the kid could do nothing but bend his knees further and moan. Bailey's eyes remained fixed on the sight, his artificially implanted instincts telling him to get closer to get a big whiff of what was going on, even though his subconscious was screaming at him for housing such gross desires. Before yesterday, he'd been a snob and a certified germaphobe, one who would reel at the thought of even touching the waistband of a stinky diaper to check his little brother, let alone touching any lower part of a sagging poosack. Now? His brain buzzed and yearned to stick his nose up against the bulging, warm seat of one; he wanted to wear the secondhand diaper, with no thoughts on the vile reality of such a thing. He'd worn Theodore's poopy diaper, and added to it with his own mess, for quite some time yesterday. He'd shamefully enjoyed every moment of it, squishing around and gleefully smearing the mess around in his pants, for hours of the afternoon after Simon's uninvited visit. Bailey knew that he'd been reprogrammed, that the inner workings of his brain had been rewired, but he was a slave to his impulses. Even when Simon had left, and his presence was but a bitter memory, Bailey had been compelled to stick his nose into the packed diaper pail in Theodore's nursery. He'd sniffed the younger boy's sagging seat as recently as this morning, whenever his onesie's buttons had been straining to maintain the load from overnight. And now here he was, at a place where he would be surrounded by yucky, mucky Huggies, and loaded, bloated Luvs, and icky, sticky Pampers; with all the tykes who had been feasting upon the delights of the fair, it would be a regular mushy-tushy convention center in here! Undoubtedly as Simon had conspired. And since he'd seen Buster being marched around by the mystic boy, it came to reason that Bailey wasn't even his primary target today! Bailey was an afterthought, a side quest, and Simon probably hadn't planned much more than simply getting Bailey stuck in here, with the knowledge that it would be a humiliation that executed itself. **FLLLRRRRPP! SPLLLRTTTT! SPLAT!** The ode to filth continued its bubbling, gurgling sonnet, with the tot moaning and starting to involuntarily drool on himself as his tummy spasmed and his bowels cramped. It came to reason that he must have had some minor food allergy in addition to what the fried food would usually do to a boy his age; this wasn't at all a normal soiling, and that further intrigued Bailey, though he wished it wouldn't. Before he could go and debase himself by sniffing a stranger's butt, one of the workers seemed to take notice of the boy's upset tummy. The young woman came up to the boy and gave him a pat on the head, quietly cooing about his dirty diaper and sore stomach. She took him by the hand and started to lead him off to the bathroom, which was part of a local storefront that had gladly leased that part out for the fair. Bailey's eyes tracked the back of the boy's shorts, hearing the juicy farts that were remnants of his putrid pantload, and the sloshing of a diaper that'd been made into a bog of boom-booms. Flies were trailing in his wake, as if following a railroad made of his stench, and Bailey quietly joined the conga line from a distance. He waited a few minutes outside the bathrooms, hiding himself from prying eyes; he could hear the diaper change from outside, such as the ripping of the tapes, the cutesy commentary of the caretaker, and the squishy thump of the diaper being disposed of, all of which made his anticipation bloom. Finally, the woman came back out with the boy, who himself seemed much happier now that his tummy had settled and his bottom was clean. Bailey waited a few moments for them to vacate the area, before slyly sneaking into the bathroom to check out the trash can near the changing table. It wasn't the only diaper in there, which was an obvious conclusion of what this place was intended for, and Bailey sniffed deeply of the can. The balled up diaper on top was obviously his main objective though, and from sight alone, it looked far more loaded than he could have possibly hoped for. Picking it up, it was hot to the touch, and brown stains had begun to mar the fabric in splotches of shame. The boy brought the heavy garment up to his nose and took a deep whiff of the fumes, which sent shudders of excitement down his spine, and tickled his warped brain. He understood the taboo, not only socially, but from his own intense sense of hygiene, and yet he didn't care. Simon had made him into something else. Simon had said that he was a degenerate little piggy that liked to be dirty, that craved dookie diapers, and now his elegance was but a facade. He bit his lip and opened the diaper back up, seeing that it was awe-inspiring in how grossly full it had become. Throwing caution to the wind, Bailey stripped his own pants off and began to tape the dirty diaper on around his waist. It was heavy, squishy, and it was very hot; the strong odor only emboldened him, the germaphobe part of his brain being once again gagged by Simon's influence. Once he got it secured around his waist, he pulled his designer briefs back on over it to secure it in place, and then his shorts were next. He could feel the warmth oozing immediately across his backside, and creeping beneath his undercarriage as well, and he could only get a dumb smile from it. Bailey would be begrudgingly enjoying himself, while Buster was taken by Simon to the execution of his own reputation; Tyler was also somewhere on the fairgrounds, which Simon had likely already created a contingency for. The destruction of the Big Boy's Club was still in full swing, and Simon was aiming for the fences.