🕑 Added 2025-01-14 01:52:25 +0000 UTC
Story #182: How the Curse Unfurls
(Part 3 to 'Curse of the Poobrain')
(Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, mind alteration, diaper squishing, fantasy, ongoing story)
Piero had discovered the diaper shortly after it'd manifested itself around him. It hadn't been immediate, since his thoughts had instead been consumed by the impossible accident he'd been having, but it hadn't taken but a few feet out of the classroom for him to recognize that there was something seriously different with his undergarments.
Briefs didn't have such absurd bulk, nor did they rustle with movement, like a leafy branch in the wind. No, those attributes were solidly in the realm of one particular form of garb, and a magician of his pedigree shouldn't have been wearing one past two.
A quick detour into the washroom would confirm his fears; a lift of his robe and he could see the garment staring him down in the mirror. A cumbersome nappy that had been made more unwieldy by a solid mass of stool that radiated warmth across his entire backside. His fingers ran across the front, prodding and pinching, as if in disbelief by what he was seeing.
It was undoubtedly the work of magic, but how? He had been checked for curses, hexes, and all manner of trickery, and yet nothing had been found; he'd been guarded by a ward, and his bowel control had been made completely manual, so how had his underpants been transformed and how had he defecated on himself again?
It wasn't as if he'd been protected by a slouch either; he'd sought out one of the academy's utmost authorities on the matter! There should have been no way for this to happen, and yet, here he was with a massive lump of dung pressed firmly against his buttocks.
Piero refused to let anyone discover the compromised position he was in. He let his robe drape back down, fully covering his shame, and he made his way back to his private quarters to take care of things with some discretion. Walking was made more difficult, and he was glad that the halls were mostly barren, since he was sure that his difficulties weren't subtle.
Each step he toddled, the prestigious pantsfiller could feel the sticky squishing of his own fuming, steaming dump. It should have filled him with not only shame, but disgust, and yet...
It was oddly pleasurable. The diaper itself and the contents it held; he logically held contempt, but illogically was buzzing with bliss.
The padding of the oversized Pampers, and the warm droppings inside, were making his brain feel embarrassingly content. The physical sensation was unquestionably incredible, and it grew more euphoric as he continued to make his way to his dormitory. It felt akin to the effects of a drug.
Once he'd locked himself back in his room, he disrobed down to just the puffy, white diaper and stood in front of another mirror. He was fixated on the image before him, specifically on the babyish undergarment itself. There was something captivating about the way the diaper appeared, as if it was a dazzling treasure on display.
The smell of his own waste had begun to waft up from the back, and it tickled gently at his nostrils. Instead of shying away or cringing from the odor, he felt himself finding it as comforting as smelling a freshly baked tray of cookies. He'd been holding his nose until now, with the assumption that he'd be disgusted by the fetid odor, but he now was taking bolder and bolder sniffs of the rank air.
His hands became similarly explorative and began to gently move around the back of the bulging seat. He could get a good judgment of the size of his load, and he could feel the wondrous warmth that glowed like a glorious ember inside.
Feeling overwhelmed, he stepped away from the mirror and mindlessly sat down at his desk. Immediately, he could feel the hot mass being flattened like a pancake beneath him; the sticky solid mashed underneath his buttcheeks and spread its heat evenly across his backside. The ecstasy was so intense that he felt a massive spike of dopamine in his brain, enough to leave him slack-jawed and with a dribble of drool escaping his lips.
He wasn't sure how much time passed during the near fugue-like state he found himself in; a thought barely passed across his brain while he sat there on his simmering pantload, as if all of creation had paused for him to revel in his diapered debauchery. It took a knock at his door for him to snap back to reality and realize he'd been gyrating his bottom into the chair, further smearing the dung-pie all across his backside.
In a daze, he wiped the wetness from his chin and rubbed his eyes. "W-who is it?" He called out, clumsily getting out of his chair, the dump in his pants shifting uneasily with his movements.
"Bianco! I didn't see you in conjuration class, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Piero massaged his temples, seemingly relieved it was simply one of his sycophants. His eyes darted to the clock hanging on the wall and he realized he'd really already been in here for over an hour!
"Y-yes, I'm fine! I'm feeling under the weather, so I won't be making it to the rest of my classes today. I'll be sure to catch up this evening..."
There were still two courses on his schedule for the day, but he didn't feel capable of making it to either, let alone paying attention. His current padded predicament was bad enough, especially with the rampant soiling he'd been suffering, but his thoughts felt far too muddled to focus on academic matters.
"Do you want me to fetch someone to help you feel better? Should I bring you some food?" Bianco called through the door, ever loyal to his superior, though that may not be the case for much longer.
"N-no! I don't need your pity, I just need some rest and some quiet. Leave! If I need anything, then I'll beckon you."
"Yes sir! Sorry for the interruption!"
The power of status was strong. Bianco was several years his senior, but he kissed the ring like any other simpering whelp; Piero's name, its legacy, was enough to turn an elite upperclassmen into a stammering fool. Such had been the case for all of Piero's life, since he'd been in diapers the first time around.
Hearing the footsteps getting quieter as they got further away, Piero let out a sigh of relief and wondered what his next step should be. He almost felt too embarrassed to get a second opinion on whatever this affliction was that had come over him, and it seemed pointless to call the same cleric back up, whenever things hadn't been adequately addressed the first time around.
The diaper itself wasn't anything special; a simple transmutation could have turned his underwear into it, and there was a strong precedent for that. In fact, in earlier years, it was a fairly common prank or bullying tactic that was used to humiliate someone. Piero himself had done it to those who caught his ire, at least when he was younger and more juvenile.
It was the soiling that was more problematic, as well as the strange way that his mind had been so accepting of it. It must be a powerful curse to have broken past the defensive ward that Piero had been assured would hold. No fellow student could be capable of overwhelming such a barrier; it would have to be from a far more experienced origin!
He could have never guessed that the provenance came from the most detestable of magical schools, from the most mocked and forbidden of spellcrafts. To expect a special ed 'poo wizard' to be capable of cursing him, or even figuring out what a curse was, was simply unthinkable. There was no widely known precedent for someone using 'brown magic' to be capable of anything resembling offense, unless counting the odor that followed them.
"...First things first, I need to peel this heinous garb off and bathe." He verbally asserted, as if he had to convince himself of it.
**Frrrrrrrtttt!**
Piero grimaced and froze in place. The guttural bellowing from his bowels had come swiftly and had immediately caused flatulence to spew forth into his soiled seat. There had been no warning, and no way of stopping it.
Before he could react to the gassy outburst, his body was adjusting its posture, as if he physically already knew what to do. His knees bent, his hands balled into fists, and his bottom pushed outward. Wearing this ridiculous diaper and nothing else, his pose was undeniably that of a toddler about to decimate their diaper with dung.
"W-what? N-no! I-I w-won't...!"
His lonesome cries to his own body were ignored, and he felt his belly spasm wildly. His body was working alone on this, leaving his mind in a frenzied panic at what he knew was obviously coming. Piero desperately made an attempt to clench his buttcheeks as tightly as he could, with what little autonomy he was afforded, but it was a struggle made in vain.
Ignoring his cries to the contrary, his bowels began to empty on their own accord. He could feel the length of a solid log pushing past the 'door' he'd tried to latch, causing a shudder to ring up his spine; not a single inch of the mushy pole departed without acute awareness from the distressed aristocrat who was involuntarily unloading it.
The partially loaded diaper fought with the invading solid, offering resistance against its encroachment, simply out of a lackluster remainder of space. Piero, or rather his body, had to double down in the effort to expel the snaking beast, with his face growing hot with exertion.
"Nnnggghhhh! W-why...Mmph...C-can't s-stop...it..." He vented his frustrations between strained grunts, each pause punctuated by the gassy crackling of his not-so-magic missile.
He had to lower himself further to the ground, putting himself into the lowest squat that he could muster. The payload quickly picked up speed, barreling into his smelly garment with reckless abandon, and giving a flatulent **THUMP** as an epilogue. His diaper, sagging with yet more of his own droppings, now scraped against the floor of his dormitory.
Piero was left panting, his body feeling back under his own control, instead of entranced into the most primal of bodily functions. For as humiliated as he felt, and how disgusted with himself he was, there was an undeniable serenity that'd come with making more muck in his thick undergarments. The relief of evacuation was immense, and the sensation immaculate; even the fly-attracting fumes, pungent as they may be, were instrumental in the divine way he felt.
He shakily got back onto his feet and turned himself to get a better look in the mirror at a diaper that'd become even more befouled than before. Instead of revulsion, he felt a bizarre sense of pride, as if the steaming pile in his seat was a masterpiece to behold, instead of a dirty secret to bury.
He knew these thoughts were not his own, and that they were outright heretical to the refined path that he'd been entrusted to walk; no noble, the next in a long lineage of perfection, would tarnish the legacy of their name by feeling such a perverse affection for filth. Those were the thoughts of a brown mage, of a poo wizard. Those were thoughts tainted by degradation and degeneracy.
And yet, he found himself troubled at the prospect of taking the diaper off. Any rationality that should have been sparking off his neurons were being blocked by the miasma of having a messy bottom. His instinct wasn't to depart from the cauldron of filth around his waist, to which his underside had become completely submerged in, but to embrace the warm feeling it gave him.
Still fighting with his more logical side, as if fighting over the steering wheel, he opened up a drawer in his desk and pulled a small, ornate charm from within. Its purpose was to enhance clarity and focus, to strengthen control over the mind; it'd been an invaluable tool for studying. Holding the jewel-encrusted trinket in his hands, he immediately could feel the clouds clearing.
Whatever had been done to him was strong, as this powerful charm was just barely enough to give him back full control over his ever-stranger thoughts. He could feel bizarre desires and patterns in his brain, with his pleasure paths having been heavily impacted, but he could more easily shoo those unpleasant concepts away.
The charm wouldn't do anything for his sudden onset incontinence, but it'd at least make sure he kept a level head. Whatever was wrong with him was obviously worsening, since these peculiar notions hadn't been dancing in his head beforehand; he couldn't be sure how far things would go, or even what the nature of the affliction was, but he'd obviously need to work fast at finding a solution.
The first order of business was to take care of the stinking sack of poop that was bound to him; aside from hygiene or dignity, the loaded diaper was obviously exacerbating the condition. The very smell of his own shame was enough to mesmerize him into a vacuous stupor. He carefully stripped from the foul thing and went to take a bath, hoping that time in the tub would spur some grand epiphany.
No such luck on the revelation, but it did confirm that his affliction was noticeably worsened by being around the messy garment. Whenever he walked back into his quarters, where'd he'd balled up the diaper, he immediately found himself attracted like a magnet to it. He hadn't immediately disposed of it via magic, because he hadn't had the heart to.
In the radically altered way his mind was working, the lumpy embarrassment was still a work of art to him. To destroy it so callously was a tragedy! But to keep it here, where it would beckon to him and mock him, that also wasn't an acceptable outcome. He was torn between two worlds, with his logical mind only hardly outweighing the ravings of his compromised emotional mind.
And speaking of compromise, that's exactly what he had to do. He locked it in an amateurish time-bubble, which was typically a spell more useful for preserving food or keeping a potion from becoming volatile. Inside the bubble, time would stop, and the 'work of art' would be preserved without degrading, and more importantly without stinking up his dorm.
With the dirty diaper securely bubbled, he placed it under his bed and let out a sigh. "What am I doing...?"
He shook his head and kept his charm palmed, still afraid to have his stranger thoughts take the driver's seat again. Opening up his wardrobe, he pulled out a pair of briefs and put his legs through. As he pulled them up to his waist, they immediately transformed like the last pair, becoming a cumbersome diaper instead.
"A loop?! That must mean it's a hex or a curse...It has to be a part of the rest. Everything that's happening is all one big thing..." He mumbled to himself, glowering down at the white garment.
As much distaste for it that he had, he couldn't deny the current need for such a thing. If he couldn't stop his bowels from emptying themselves, then a diaper was a shameful, yet sensible precaution.
But Piero was only now ending stage one of the poobrain curse, and the horrors ahead would rapidly ramp up in time for the promotion exam ahead.
