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Story #173: Simon Says (Part II: Taylor)
🕑 Added 2024-11-26 20:26:20 +0000 UTC Story #173: Simon Says (Part II: Taylor) (Part 2 to 'Simon Says') (Content Tags: Mind control, messing, wetting, pull-ups, domination, humiliation, ongoing story) "You've been very helpful, Bailey. You're more perceptive than you look. You keep awfully detailed tabs on people you claim to be your closest friends." Bailey Beaufort, richest third grader in town, had just spent the last hour spilling his guts in more ways than one. Subjugated by Simon's silver tongue, he'd sold out the rest of the Big Boy's club to his mental captor. He'd been made to remain in the Pampers he'd watched his baby brother fill from a very close distance, squishing back and forth on the little baby toy. One by one, he went down the list of his associates and he answered whatever questions Simon had. He knew he was betraying them, and while it wouldn't take a phenomenal level of pressure to make him go turncoat, he didn't *want* to be spilling the beans. He just couldn't say no to Simon; it was as if the older boy had a hold on him. Evident by the fact that a narcissistic, foppish germaphobe was sitting in someone else's poopy diaper. "I want you to make a call for me, Bailey. I want you to tell...Let's see, how about...Taylor. Call Taylor and tell him to meet you at the park in an hour. Tell him to come alone. Then, I'm going to need some spending money..." Ten minutes later and Simon was stuffing a wad of bills into his pocket. A little start-up cash to make the next step go more smoothly. He turned to face Bailey and smiled: "Okay. Wait five minutes after I leave and go to your nanny. Tell her you had an accident and get cleaned up. You can't tell anyone about what actually happened here today; no tattling to your parents or warning your friends. And remember what I said earlier, about your new reaction to seeing a dirty diaper? Have fun with that." Simon had effectively clipped whatever meager wings Bailey might have had. There was nothing the youngest member of the club could do to put Simon's threat on the radar for his friends; besides, he'd be plenty busy with adjusting to the new quirks that Simon had bestowed upon him. Until he'd fully conquered the rest of the club, there was no point in going much further. If Bailey caught his ire, then maybe he'd worsen the lad's situation, but didn't want to be too hard on his little piggy bank, even if that piggy now like to wallow in filth. With financing taken care of for the rest of the day, Simon took his bike and headed off to local pharmacy. He had about forty minutes to get what he needed for the next victim, and unfortunately for the whole club, Bailey had set the theme by being first. Simon was an artist at heart, so he wanted to make sure there was a connecting thread between all the ways he destroyed these pompous kids. Thanks to Bailey's little brother, that theme would decidedly be dirty diapers. Each victim would have their own uniquely crafted fate, but the shared motif would be dirty diapers. Perfectly juvenile and degrading, and especially relevant since they had already tempted fate by calling themselves the 'Big Boys'. Simon had already gotten some ideas for Taylor, after Bailey had given him the rundown on each member. Taylor seemed like both the second easiest and the second most useful in terms of rewards. Taylor Templeton, ten years old and a fourth grader at the local elementary school. The one who had so easily fallen under his spell when they'd first met, when Taylor had name-dropped all the members of their club. According to Bailey, Taylor was a star athlete and more interestingly, his father was the sheriff. From what Simon could gather, he was basically a meathead jock that likely flaunted the law with the assurance that his daddy wouldn't punish him. Whenever he'd probed about weaknesses, Bailey had mentioned that Taylor had needed an inhaler when he was younger, that he had wet the bed at their last sleepover, and that he'd begged his parents to hold off on getting him braces. All those details coalesced into a clear vision of how he wanted to ruin Taylor's life. It was the same process he used for whenever he did something like this, whenever he took interest in breaking something; each person was like a slab of marble, and only after chiseling away with details, would he realize what the final product should look like. For Bailey, it had all been obvious. So many neurosis to exploit and draw inspiration from! A short, snobby rich kid that hated filth and thought himself better than everyone else; Simon had targeted each of those traits. The culmination being that Bailey's insecurity about his size, his obsession with status, his haughty views on wealth, and his revulsion to germs, had been perfectly represented by making him put on his younger brother's secondhand messy diaper. It would be a little harder with Taylor. He wasn't quite as absurd, at least from what Simon had seen. While a big singular event had been the catharsis with Bailey, it would likely be a slower burn with Taylor. There would still need to be something flashy, an ironic punishment, but the real payoff wouldn't be immediate. Simon hit up the pharmacy, and he hit up a thrift shop nearby while he still had some time. The park wasn't far, so he'd be able to spare a few minutes to gather what he had in mind. At the park, Simon could see Taylor waiting at a bench on the far end. Just as Bailey had instructed, he was alone. He had on a camo tank top and a pair of blue track pants; he'd probably shown up early and run some laps. Simon wheeled his bike across the grass and leaned it against a tree, before approaching Taylor. "Hey buddy." Taylor cocked his head and frowned. He hadn't been impressed with Simon when the boy had first ambushed him and Buster, and he had no desire to speak any further with him. "Beat it, dork. I'm waiting on a friend." "Bailey? He's busy, so I guess I'll have to take his little appointment with you." "What are you talking about? How did you know I was meeting with Bailey?" The suspicions were certainly warranted, and Simon's creepy smile didn't do anything to assuage the worries starting to flutter in Taylor's tummy. "Take it easy, I was just at his house. We were getting to know one another." Simon sat on the bench next to Taylor and put his bags down in front of him. "His house is huge. Pretty funny, since he's such a pipsqueak, right?" Taylor scowled, "No way he'd let you in his house, dude. He about lost it when I tracked mud in, and he *likes* me. Someone dirt-poor like you? Not a shot." That got a chuckle out of Simon, "All you 'big boys' are so hostile. Your cowboy friend about knocked my block off for looking at him funny." "Yeah, well I might have to knock your block too if you don't start telling me what you're doing here" Simon sighed and leaned back, "Straight to it, huh? Well, I think you'll want to stay sitting for this, okay? Just be still and quiet while I fill that head of yours with some neat ideas." Taylor hadn't realized it yet, but he was already under Simon's spell. He'd be glued to the bench, quiet as a church mouse, until Simon directed him otherwise. "Now, I think I've gotten a better idea about how things work around here in Montgomery. Such an itty-bitty town that all of the power is consolidated to a few select families, am I right? And the sons of those families decided to get together and wield that same power on a smaller scale. Bailey's family is rich, and your dad is the sheriff, right? Buster's mom is the mayor, Nash's family owns the biggest farm and his grandfather is the pastor, and Cody's dad is the judge and his mom is the principal. I know it goes deeper than that, so don't think I haven't done my homework, but those are the bullet points, yes?" Taylor looked perturbed and he looked like he wanted to respond, but Simon hadn't given him permission to do anything of the sort. Instead, Simon waited a moment for that to sink in before he continued. "All the bases are covered by your little club. Everyone has a mommy or daddy who they can cry to whenever something doesn't go their way. Five families that practically own this crappy little town. It actually makes things really easy for me, so I should thank you. Instead of having to disassemble things from a thousand different angles, I just have to destroy the five of you. Montgomery might be a trash heap, but if I have to live here, then I'll be living as king of the trash. Now, I assume you're wondering what that means for you, right? After all, I did just say I was going to destroy you, so that must be scary, but don't worry! I still need you and your friends all in one piece, well, literally at least. Here, I'll show you what I did to Bailey. Maybe that will help you understand." Simon pulled out his phone and started to tap at it. After a moment, he shoved it into Taylor's hands and told him to take a look. The thing he was looking at was a video that Simon had taken earlier in the day: it was Bailey, wearing a filthy diaper that was obviously too small for him and farting hard in it as he rocked back and forth on the infantile toy he'd borrowed from his brother. "There were other things that led up to that, but that was the end result." Taylor stared down at the phone in horror, unable to look away since Simon had instructed him to watch, thus making him have to view the scene being looped over and over. Meanwhile, Simon had lifted the bags off the ground and put them on the bench next to Taylor. "Don't look so glum. I won't do the same thing to you; I'm not a hack that repeats his own work. You'll get your very own nightmare, just like all of your little friends will." Simon plucked the phone from Taylor's hands and put it back in his pocket. "Now, open up the bags and tell me what you think. Softly though, I can only deal with so many empty threats and attempted bribes." Apprehensively, Taylor lifted one of the bags and looked inside. From what he could see, it looked like ugly, dorky clothing. Plaid polo, suspenders, that sort of thing. It was a stark contrast to the sporty attire he was accustomed to. "...You want me to dress like a nerd?" Simon smiled, "That's halfway correct. You'll be doing more than just dressing like one though, you'll be playing the part completely. Go ahead and open the other bag." Taylor grimaced and slowly opened the other one. His eyes widened as he saw what was inside. "Y-you said you weren't going to do the same thing to me as you did to Bailey!" He squeaked, closing the bag back up once he'd seen that it was a package of youth Pull-Ups. "I didn't lie to you, Taylor. You'll all have a connecting thread, but the circumstances will be wildly different. You're going to be a geeky, dorky diaper-boy; Bailey is a gross little diaper gremlin, a pail-pilferer. Very different execution between you two." Taylor shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what was happening, but he was still unable to flee. He was still compelled to stay seated, just as Simon had said. "...When I tell my dad--" "Simon says to shush. What was I just saying about empty threats? Trust me, your daddy is going to be just as much in my pocket as you are. Your mommy too. Nobody resists my words; some can last longer than others, but everyone eventually falls in line. Now, I want you to take those bags and I want you to go change in the woods. Leave your old clothes behind, you won't be needing them anymore." Simon thought for another moment, "Actually, first, I want you to pee your pants. Right here on the bench. You have a weak bladder now, and too much excitement leaves you soaked." The boy didn't have to be asked twice. There was a dull hissing sound and Simon could see the front of Taylor's pants staining from the sudden deluge of urine streaming out. His cheeks got pink and he looked like he might cry, but he didn't say anything about it. "Good! Now go ahead, pee-pot. Go get your training pants on." Taylor stood up, his legs acting on their own, and he carried the bags with him as he walked out into the forest that the park was on the border of. Simon didn't have to worry that Taylor would run, so he just patiently waited at the bench. It took a few minutes, but Taylor eventually emerged from the forest with a vastly different appearance than before. Gone was the sports jersey or jeans, and in their place was the dorky ensemble that Simon had picked up from the thrift store. Polo, suspenders, and khaki shorts that stopped above the knee; the disposable briefs also cut a bit of a shape, though a subtle one. "Looking good, Taylor! Like a real geek. Come over here and let me get a better look; I still have some work to do on you." Taylor quietly groaned and shuffled his way toward his tormentor. "I look ridiculous like this..." Simon nodded as he pinched at the back of Taylor's shorts, "Yeah, you'll need to grow into the role. For starters, you're not an athlete anymore; you're clumsy and not very confident at all. You trip over your own shoelaces so much that you'll probably need velcro instead. You're also terrified at the prospect of conflict, because you're an anxious mess." The power of suggestion was immense, but it always depended on just how suggestible the target was. Giving temporary commands was easy, but making longstanding changes to a person's brain was a great deal harder, especially when it became about tricking the brain into thinking it had faults that it didn't. The weak bladder was like that, as was the strike to Taylor's coordination or the editing of his psyche. To someone with a strong will, those wouldn't work properly; those were the cases where Simon had to get creatively cruel. Taylor though, he seemed like an exceedingly suggestible person; everything that Simon had in mind could be easily implanted by command alone. "You ever hear about IBS, Taylor? Irritable bowel syndrome. Manifests itself in different ways, but for you? It means that emotional stress leads to uncontrollable farting and pooping, and let's throw in a serious lactose intolerance problem too, for laughs. Let's see, let's see... You'll also need that inhaler again, and you're going to talk to your parents about expediting those braces." Simon put a finger to his chin, "I want you to start staring at the sun every day. Three times a day for about five minutes each time. It won't take long for you to need glasses." Given everything else that Simon had just done to Taylor, it was glaringly unnecessary to damage his eyes for real, whenever he could simply change the boy's perception on a mental level. All things considered though, Simon felt that Taylor had gotten off too easy thus far. As it stood, he might be the one to be destroyed the least, but Simon could always circle the wagon on it. "S-stare at the sun? B-but...I..." "I'm sure I could find a more painful way for you to damage your eyes, if that's what you'd prefer. A needle, or maybe some bleach...?" Taylor gulped and a sputtering of flatulence came from the back of his khaki shorts, "N-no! Sorry!" The boy's knees were knocking together in terror, and that fart had sounded far too wet to not be something more. Simon could assume that the boy's newfound IBS had kicked into action, and Taylor didn't have to assume, because he could feel the hot mush pressing against his buttcheeks. "Good! Now, I don't want you saying anything about what happened here. I'll set up a time to come 'convince' your parents that all is normal with you, and we can go from there. In the meantime, you're not to contact any of your friends. Except Bailey, I suppose; you can still see him. I'll let you know when I need to use you for my plans." Simon gave the back of Taylor's shorts a firm squeeze and smiled, "Start finding new interests outside of sports. Stuff more suited for a dorky geek like you. Dungeons and Dragons, or whatever." That checked off the second youngest member of the 'Big Boy's Club', at least for the time being. Now it was time for Simon to decide who to go after next.Comments
AaronMc
Loving this series
