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From: "Dream Spinner" <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: ST: At Their Mercy - 08 (m/b/b/b, scat, mind control)
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Warning Welcome: This is a story about us (Jay and Tyler, age 11, and
Billie, age 9) taking over the mind of a forty-four-year-old man.  If
you don't like stories about poopy diapers, you might wanna skip this
part.  If you do, then you can thank R****** along with us for this
idea.  If you got any ideas yourself what we can do with ol'man
Wallace that we haven't already done, let us know and we'll do it.
Then we'll make him tell you all about it.


		   At Their Mercy - Part 8


    When I could not take my usual dump and morning piss last Friday,
I immediately suspected my preteen tormentors were involved.  When
Saturday came around and I still had not felt any need to perform
those two basic bodily functions, I knew the three boys were
responsible.   At ten that morning their arrival confirmed it.

    "Hi, Mr. Wallace," they greeted cheerfully as they came sauntering
into my kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator and cupboard.

    "Boys," I replied, trying to sound pleasant so as not to offend
them, although I had come to associate their presence with my
humiliation.  Whenever they arrived, I had a staring role in the
performance of one of the most perverted acts I have ever known.

    They helped themselves to the Gatorade and bag of Nachos that I
kept on hand just for them.

    "You better strip so we can get going," said Jay.

    Over the past two months I have done many things under the
hypnotic control of these boys, and I have learned I might as well go
along with them as much as I can for my own health if no other reason.
Willingly exposing myself was crossing the line even though they have
now seen me naked plenty of times.

    "Ah, shithead.  Haven't you learned not to fight us yet?" asked
Jay with irritation.

    The key word immediately put me under their hypnotic spell.  The
boys had something big planned or they would not have put me under so
quickly.  I had learned by now that they enjoyed toying with me as
much as they enjoyed making me perform obscene acts for their
entertainment.

    "Now, strip you fucking shithead."

    "Even though I've seen it seven times now, I still can't get over
how the old fart obeys us the moment he hears the word shithead,"
observed Billie as I began to unbutton my shirt.

    "Me neither," agreed Tyler as Jay left the room, "but isn't it
neat?"

    "Fuck yeah," swore Billie.  "And what we make him do is even
neater!"

    The two boys laughed as they helped themselves to another handful
of Nachos.  I was just stepping out of my underwear when Jay retuned
with a couple shopping bags.  I had no memory of making the purchases,
but evidently I had.  In the first bag was a pack of adult extra large
disposable diapers.  I stood there helplessly as he opened the pack up
and put one on me.  Tyler and Billie glanced at each other and
giggled.  This was followed by a pair of extra large plastic pants.
In the other bag was a pair of men's shorts, brilliant lime green, and
a polka dot short- sleeved shirt.

    "What do ya think?" Jay asked the others once he had dressed me.

    Billie and Tyler were laughing so hard they could not answer.

    "Okay, shithead, listen real close.  Today you are a little boy,
and we are your babysitters.   We want you to talk and act just like a
two-year-old.  Course you can really understand all the words you
understand now, and you can think just like you do now, you just can't
act or talk like an adult.  You got that?"

    "Uh-huh," I replied, nodding my head as a two-year-old might.

    "Right-on," Jay said and the three boys high-fived.  "Now, when
you hear someone say the word 'good', you are going to start to poop
your diapers.  And when you hear someone say 'nice', you are going to
start to pee.  When someone says 'great', you will stop pooping or
peeing.  Understand?"

    I nodded my head, my adult mind screaming its objection to what
the boys had in mind but being unable to do anything about it.  With
those simple instructions, we headed outside and down to the park at
the end of the street.  There were several mothers and little children
and a few slightly older children at the playground.  Being a bachelor
and sticking pretty much to myself, I did not know any of them by
name, but I did recognize them all of being from the neighbourhood.

    "Go ahead, baby Wally, you can play on the playground while we
have a visit," said Jay with a wide grin.

    I ran over to the swings immediately, the baby part of my mind
bubbling with excitement, the adult part dreading what was going to
happen.  "Swing," I said, pointing to the swings.

    "Yes, that's right," said Jay with a smile.

    "Swing," I said more emphatically.

    "Oh, you want a push?"

    I nodded my head enthusiastically.  When I was really a child of
two, I could have spent the entire day on a swing set if anyone had
let me.  Now forty-two years later, I was feeling the same way again.
The three boys glanced at each other with huge grins.  Jay came over
and helped me get on and then pushed me for a while.  Quickly tiring
of that, he told me to go play on the slides.  All the mothers were
looking at me strangely, and some of the children were also.  I played
on the slide and got my babysitters to play with me on the
teeter-totter for a while.  It took all three of them to balance me.
They quickly tired of that and we returned to the swings.  Two of the
older boys came over to where we were and got on the swings beside me.
They were about four or five years old.  After looking at me for a
while, the braver of the two boys spoke up.

    "There something wrong with him?"

    "What do you mean?" asked Jay.

    "He's sortta big to be liking to swing so much."

    "Yes, he is," agreed Jay.

    "So, is he, you know, stupid or something?"

    "Yeah, Baby Wally has a problem that way."

    "He's a retard?"

    "Yup."

    "He your brother?"

    "Nope.  We're babysitting him."

    "He's weird."

    "Yeah, he is.  You mind him playing on the playground?"

    "No.  It's just weird seeing an adult playing on all the stuff is
all."

    "So you think that's bad?" Jay asked, glancing at the others with
a twinkle in his eyes.

    "No, just weird is all, not good or bad," the boy replied
innocently.

    I immediately began to release the shit that had been filling my
intestines for the past two days.  The first warm, thick turd eased
out easily.  A mixture of emotions passed over me.  I was thankful for
the final relief, and the physical sensation was pleasant to both my
two-year-old mind and my adult mind.  Of course I was embarrassed as
hell, and feeling the warm shit oozing along my butt crack was weird.
Most of all, I was angry with my tormentors for their control over my
simple bodily functions.  The boys all noticed the odour immediately.

    "Great," Jay said after a moment.

    "I think he just farted," the braver of the two boys whispered
with a grin so his mother would not hear.

    "Uh-oh.  Baby Wally, did you go poop?"

    "Wally go poop," I replied as if it was a perfectly natural thing
to say as I nodded my head.

    "You're kidding!  He didn't?" the boy giggled as he glanced at me,
then at Jay and finally at his buddy.

    "Yep, he did.  Gotta put a diaper on him."

    "Bet it's a big one!"  He and his friend giggled with amusement.

    "It certainly is," observed Billie.  "When he goes, he's got lots
of poop."

    The two boys laughed, and then one called his younger brother of
about three over.

    "Hey, this retard poops his pants."

    "No way."

    "Can't ya smell?"

    "Yuk.  He stinks."

    "He certainly doesn't smell good," Tyler said with a twinkle in
his eye.

    I immediately began to force out another turd, refreshing the air.

    "Yuk, I think he's doing it again!"

    "Hey poop head, that feel good?"

    Even at two years of age I would have known they were teasing me.
I began to turn red.

    "Hey he's poopin' so hard his face is turnin' red!"

    "Baby Wally, it's bad to poop your pants," Jay said sternly.  "And
it certainly can't feel very great."

    I ceased my efforts to evacuate my bowels even though there was
still a lot more left.  It did not feel great.  I could feel the hot
mush along the crack of my ass and down between my legs.  It was
sticky and foul smelling, and I felt filthy.

    "Yeah, pooping your pants is not nice," observed Billie.

    I began to release my bladder, and after holding it all this time,
the release felt good despite my situation.  The hot piss soaked into
the padding around my crotch and began to spread across my stomach.

    "Hey, how come he looks like that?" asked the first boy.

    "Baby Wally!" scolded Jay.  "Are you going peepee?"

    "Baby Wally peepee," I announced gleefully.

    "Oh great!"

    I stopped.  By this time the circle of kids had grown to about
nine, ranging in age from probably two to six.  As each newcomer
arrived he was told what was happening and the group of tiny kids
giggled and pointed and held their noses.

    "That's weird, a grown man peeing himself."

    "He's a big dumb poophead," observed one of them.

    "I'd sure hate to change his diapers!"

    "Yuk, that's for sure."

    "Hey, poophead, you like going in your diapers?"

    I looked at my baby sitters for help.

    "He doesn't know it isn't good," observed Jay.

    I resumed emptying my bowels much to the amusement of the boys
around me.  I should have known I would not get any help from my three
tormentors.  The teasing began anew.

    "Yeah, he doesn't know it isn't nice," agreed Tyler.

    I continued emptying my bladder, soaking the front and underside
of my diaper and feeling the piss spread across my belly.  I stood
there, forty-four years old, crapping and pissing my pants, the butt
of amusement and teasing from a gang of little children, and there was
nothing I could do about it.

    "Com'on, Baby Wally, lets go for a slide," said Billy wickedly.
The others all knew perfectly well why he suggested it, and they
followed me with perverted amusement.

    I went over to the slide and slid down it as the kids all glanced
at each other knowingly.  I could feel the hot, sticky shit oozing
inside my diaper and spreading across my butt.  As I walked, I could
feel it hanging between my legs.  The stink was overpowering and I
noticed the children were keeping their distance.  Gradually my
audience wandered off or left with their mothers.   Finally it was
just my three tormentors and I.  Taking me down to the ravine, Jay
pulled down my lime green shorts.

    "So, ya havin' fun, Mr. Wallace?"

    I shook my head.

    "Bet you're really hating us right about now," he said as a matter
of fact.

    "Yes," I said.

    "That's too fuckin' bad," he said simply.  "Get on you knees,
shithead."

    Unable to do anything other than glare at him, I did as I was told
as he pulled down his fly.

    "We don't want your diapers getting dry, Baby Wally," he said with
a wicked grin.

    Pulling out his penis and pulling open the top of my plastic
pants, he moved close to me.   A second later a yellow stream erupted
from his dickhead and splashed against my diapers.  I stood there
helplessly as his piss soaked into the padding and the aroma of fresh
piss enveloped me.  When he was done, he stood there and laughed as he
shook himself off.  We returned to the playground.

    Finally around noon the boys decided it was time to go for
something to eat.  I drove them to the MacDonald's near by.  The heat
in the car was oppressive, and the stink from my dirty diaper
unbearable.  Of course the boys would not think of going through the
drive-through.  As we sat there eating, the patrons around us all
moved away from the stink emanating from me.  A number looked at me
with disgust, evidently wondering how a grown man could be so careless
in his personal grooming.  A few glanced over with sympathy, evidently
realizing the problem couldn't be as simple as that.  If they only
know just what my problem really was.  I sat there embarrassed as hell
and wondering if a two-year-old had any such feelings at that young
age.  I also wondered when this humiliation was going to stop.

    After lunch, we went shopping at the Target Store.  The boys
wanted me to buy them some comics and some gum, something they seemed
to be continually chewing.  As we approached the clerk, she wrinkled
up her nose and took a step back.  She gave me a look of disgust.  I
wanted to tell her just what her place was, and lecture her about
judging people without knowing anything about them, but all I could do
was stand there and give her as mean a glare as a two-year-old can.
We returned to the playground, and the boys took me down to the
ravine.

    "Well, Baby Wally, you want some candy?" Tyler asked, handing me
one of the suckers I had just bought the boys.  As I began to suck on
it, he drew down my shorts and had me kneel like Jay had.  "Gotta keep
those diapers nice and wet," he said with a grin as he began to empty
his bladder.  His hot piss soaked into the padding of the diaper and
into my shit.  All I could do was kneel there sucking on my sucker and
let my eleven-year-old babysitter soak my diaper with his urine.

    "He's such a shithead," observed Jay.

    "Yeah, but he's our shithead," Billie said with a grin and the
three boys laughed as they high-fived.

    We returned to the playground and to a new group of children who
soon discovered my situation.  They surrounded me and teased and
taunted me, all to the amusement of my tormentors.  All I could do was
stand there and take it while my three babysitters lay down on the
grass and read their new comic books.  Midafternoon Billie added his
piss to my diapers.  We returned to the McDonalds for an afternoon
snack, and then went back to the Target store to buy the boys some
water pistols.  Throughout it all, I tried to ignore the chaffing
between my legs and the fact my diapers were stuck to my body.  I
could not ignore the looks the other shoppers and the clerks gave me.
The boys finally took me home around supper time.

    "Thanks asshole," Jay said, at last pronouncing the cue that
released me from their hold.   "Smell ya later."

    The boys all giggled and gave themselves high-fives as they headed
up the street.  I went into the bathroom and removed my shoes and
socks and slipped off the shorts and shirt the boys had dressed me in.
Very carefully opening up the adhesive tapes, I slowly removed the
sodden, shit-filled diaper and placed it in a plastic garbage bag.  My
stomach, butt and legs were smeared with shit.  It was caked to my
pubic hairs and between my legs and was wedged up the crack of my ass.
Stepping into the shower, I washed for over half an hour, but I could
not really clean my lower body as well as I would have liked.  The
inside of my thighs, my genitals, and my ass crack were so raw and
sore I could barely touch them.

    I applied Vaseline to the tender areas, including my red, itching
penis.  Putting on a fresh pair of diapers in the hopes they would be
more comfortable than shorts, I crawled into bed even though it was
only seven o'clock.  I was totally exhausted.  As I was drifting off,
I made a mental note to myself that tomorrow I was going to have to
get some talcum powder for my diaper
rash.--====================987654321_0==_ Content-Type: text/plain;
charset="us-ascii"



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