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_THE STORY SO FAR:

Milrew the wolverine oversees a large household of a dozen young humans that help him deal with supernatural threats and incident that he is so very knowledgeable on. After months of introducing his new human friends to many supernatural creatures, the stress and horror became too much and they snapped.

To cut down on stress, Milrew and the housemates spent a weekend in a dumbed down state, usually resulting in embarrassing and infantile behavior that they would go on wanting to forget._

There was a lingering stress in the household.

It was during the passing weekend that the household was put under an enchantment- a spell that reduced everyone's intelligence to a sub-idiotic level.

That wasn't the cause for the stress, in fact, it was quite the opposite. The house of college-aged humans frequently dealt with supernatural occurences and situations, and the knowledge of the supernatural world could be overwhelming. Being dumbed down is a stress relief, and a good one at that if humiliating to think about afterwards.

Milrew, a three foot well-dressed wolverine, ran the house. Not officially, but actually. He was everyone's initial and prevailing link to the supernatural world and had much arcane knowledge of the things. Which meant he usually explained to his housemates about all the horrors of the world they were never meant to know.

He was also privy to the general atmosphere in the household. Even after a weekend of going dumb to relieve the stress, the denizens of the household were still exhibiting many signs of discomfort.

Even Hank, who was the most aloof out of all the housemates, was looking glum playing a handheld gaming device in the back sunroom. Even when Milrew approached, Hank did not look like he was enthusiastic.

"Hank?" asked Milrew, "Are you alright?"

Hank sighed, and turned off his gaming device. He dragged a hand down his face, looking like he was about the yawn, "I'm... fine."

"You don't sound fine," Milrew said walking down the small steps onto the sunrooms finished wooden floor, the wolverine's claw feet tapping on the surface.

Hank grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I feel all twisted in knots. Can't relax, you know?"

"What's got your so wound up?" asked Milrew, sitting on a sofa nearby.

"It's the dumbening weekend," said Hank, "While I was under, I did a lot of strange things. I wonder... how much of it was really me?"

"It was all you," said Milrew, "but I'm sure it wasn't anything too bad!"

"Milrew..." Hank lowered his voice and leaned towards his wolverine pal, "when I was under... I found the panda lady very attractive!"

The panda lady was Eustice, a friend of Milrew's who was an easy call away if anyone needed some matronly help. She was around the dumbening weekend to help take care of the house and the housemates.

Milrew giggled like a song! He said, "She'd be delighted to hear you say that."

"There was other... sex stuff..." said Hank.

"I know some behavior from your time in that dumbed down state is going to confused you," said Milrew, "but everyone was safe and ok. Worry not about it."

"Right," said Hank, not looking convinced.

Milrew decided to leave Hank with some thoughts. The same speed as he came in, Milrew left the sunroom and walked off into the halls. Hank turned on his game and continued with that.

Over the dumbening weekend, the house employed the help of two genderless robotic beings known as the clearers. They were jovial creatures and competely content to clean people when they had urinated or defecated on themselves. A room to the side of the main living space was set up as a changing station, where the clearers spent their off time.

One of the clearers, the one with the orange color to its form, walked around the house, seeing if anyone needed assistance. It was unlikely that anyone did, as they were all back into their lucid mindspace and weren't likely to have an accident, but it was procedure to do a patrol.

Tina was one of the human residents of the house. Her steps were slow and her expression was pale. The orange clearer turned a corner and Tina's expression improved. She couldn't help but let a smile crack on her face.

"It's you," she said, the clearers having no discerning name.

"Yes," the clearer replied in its androgynous voice, assuming that Tina's statement was meant to be as basic as it was on its own.

The orange clearer changed and cleaned her the day the household came out of their dumbed down state, and having it touch her body in such a gentle way awakened some kind of love for the strange alternative lifeform.

"How are you today?" Tina asked.

"Functional," said the clearer, "And how are you? Are you in the need of any assistance? Do you need to be changed?"

Tina giggled, and tapped the sides of her skirt, "No, I'm fine. I just wanted to say hi."

The clearer smiled, "That's good. If you ever need to change your pants, I am here for you." Its eyes turned pink with affection, "I would love to change your pants!"

Tina giggled once more and brought a hand to a cheek, shying away while blushing, "Unfortunately I don't go in my pants very ofen. Usually I need to be scared for that to happen."

"What a shame," the clearer said. Tina could have sworn that was a joke but the clearers were so strange, she couldn't tell for sure.

"By the way," said Tina, "do you have a name?"

"Clearers do not have names," it said.

"How do I tell you apart then?" asked Tina.

"Why would you need to?" asked the clearer.

Tina thought for a moment. She said, "Could I call you 'Orange' then? Because of your color?"

The clearer smiled, "I don't have a problem with that."

It was settled. Orange was the clearer with the orange color that changed Tina the day the house came out of its dumb stupor. The clearer had other places to be and Tina as well, so the two parted ways once again, wondering if they would ever have a session together in the future.

Darryl was sitting in the living room, watching TV. It was hard to pay attention to the afternoon news. Darryl's focus only narrowed on the news for the occasional moment. It seemed like a report for some kind of parade.

He couldn't care. That was the fake world to him now. After finding out all he knew about the world- magic, monsters, other dimensions- he couldn't see grocery marts in the same mundane light anymore.

Milrew saw Darryl looking like he was thinking of drinking himself to death and knew he had to intervene. He walked up thinking about how he would open the conversation but when Darryl turned to him Milrew knew that it would be awkward if he didn't say something.

"H, heya Darryl!" said Milrew, "What cha watching?"

"Oh... nothing," said Darryl with all the enthusiasm of a flat tire.

"Something wrong?" asked Milrew, hopping on the couch beside him.

"It's nothing..." said Darryl.

Milrew put a hand on Darryl's knee, "Come on, Darryl. You can tell me."

Darryl sighed, "I'm still worried about the future. You talked about how many monster and demons were going to attack Earth... how are we supposed to stop all that?"

Milrew smiled confidently, "By preparing! The more people prepared against the coming attacks, the easier it will be to survive!"

Darryl snatched the remote and clicked off the TV. He pouted, his arms crossed, facing away from Milrew, "Ya, well I'm still worried."

Milrew exhaled through his nose and straightened his glasses, "I was hoping that being dumb for a weekend would have helped you make peace with that fact." Milrew took his hand off of Darryl's lap, "Did it help at all?"

"A little..." muttered Darryl.

Milrew scratched an ear, "Maybe I should have made the dumb weekened, a dumb week. Or maybe I should have made you all full primal."

Darryl groaned and got up, "Why does your ideas of R&R revolve around peeing your pants? Maybe instead of dumbing us down you should ask us to piss ourselves and speed up the process. At this point, I think we could be pretty good at it."

Another human roommate stomped off. Milrew's heart sunk. He came into that household to help them and nurture them but the last couple weeks had been devastating. He curled his tail around his lap and rubbed the tip, tapping his foot at the edge of the couch.

'Ask us to piss ourselves': the words rang in Milrew's ears. But as he thought of them, an idea came to mind!

He smiled, eyes bright and fangs out! He had a plan yet!

Later that afternoon, Milrew called everyone to the living room for another one of his meetings. The housemates emerged from their rooms, outside, and any place they were hiding. They exchanged looks of anxiety and worry as they folded into the main room.

"What could it have be this time?" one asked another.

To prepare for the presentation, couches were turned and extra chairs were laid out to seat the larger number of residents the mega-house habilitated. There was a guest there, Owain. Owain was fatherly white wolf with a beard at the end of his furry chin and a newsboy cap on his head between his pointed ears. He wore a puffy white shirt underneath a bronze colored vest and a pair of dark purple corduroy slacks. In front of the TV there was an easel with a blank display card.

He smiled, nodded sagely and waved at the college kids. He seemed nice but all the residents were (rightly) worried that something was up or that the wolf could turn dangerous in a flash.

Most of the residents were human college kids and all of them had participated in the dumbening weekend.

Milrew, being shorter compared to the humans and Owain, stood on an orange armchair so that he could see the entire crowd. Most of the human kids were seated on the couch but some were standing up, leaning against walls.

The wolverine knew this was going to be a hard conversation so he cut right to the chase when everyone was in the room. "Hello everyone. This here is Owain."

Owain gave another casual wave, "Yes, I am Owain. I am a specialist of sorts."

"A specialist in what?" asked one of the males, suspending his head on his knuckle resting on the couch arm, "Are we doing another round of being dumb?" He slapped the couch arm, "Why don't you just ask us to piss in our pants?"

Milrew chuckled and dotted his fingers together and chuckled nervously, "That... is pretty much what I'm trying to do."

Blinks of disbelief and grotesque caution went around the room. The housemates heard what Milrew had to say and knew he was serious.

"Wait," said a girl, "You're going to get us to shit ourselves?"

Milrew exhaled and slumped back on his seat. He knew they would not be open to this idea. He straightened his coat, "That is correct. I am throwing a party in which everyone here will be required to purposely... soil their drawers."

No one in that room was having it. Everyone shot complaints and outrage at Milrew. One of them got up and walked towards the door, hands up like he didn't care. A girl crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and shook her head. She wasn't going to do that.

Milrew stood back up, and called above the crowd, "I know that this is weird and disgusting but it's important."

Darryl's voice took priority among the crowd of complaints, "What could be good about 'going' in our pants?"

Owain stood up, clawed finger in the air authoritatively, "I can answer that question."

Everyone went quiet as Owain walked to the easel. There was a pointer resting on the sill of the easel that Owain picked up and tapped on the surface. There was nothing on the front of the first sheet but then Owain took it and flipped it back.

On the first sheet there was the image of two featureless people worshipping a giant toilet. This got a chuckle from a few people around the room. Owain wasn't very familiar with how humans were as a culture and what they'd find absurd but worshipping a giant toilet is how he imagined all of their cultures.

Owain tapped the picture with his pointer. His voice was commanding, "You might see going in your pants as a juvenile, degenerate thing, but look on the other hand: being a slave to the toilet- to be expected to relieve yourself into specific places in private rooms!"

The room was uncomfortable, ripe to ridicule, and disturbed. Darryl thought, oh this is actually a thing. This isn't a joke.

The wolf flipped a page behind the easel. The next one featured a picture of an otter guy casually peeing in his pants, wet streams going down his legs, looking at a dolphin chick who was also peeing herself, her capris exploding with wetness. The dolphin chick had an expression of nervous joy.

"Purposely going in your pants," said Owain, "is a relaxing experience, if not liberating! It might seem strange and might weird out your peers but the benefits are worth it!"

No one was going to be convinced. They were humans and the very idea of purposely going in one's pants was absurd, even if the lot of them had gotten a lot of experience soiling themselves ever since they met Milrew and got introduced and faced with many monsters and demons and other horrifying concepts they had no idea about before their lives with the wolverine.

Owain flipped the page to another. It was a picture of a dog girl and a bird boy sitting in the middle of what looked to be a forest, both having peed their pants and sitting in their own puddle. One was relaxed and content and the other was happy to see a feral rabbit hopping by.

"Purposely going in one's pants," said Owain, "It builds connection with nature. You become more empathic for the natural world around you and for animals, too!"

One of the roommates raised a hand, "Wait... how?"

"Because by being so primal and degenerate," said Owain, "you see yourself in even regular feral animals!"

None of these reasons were convincing the audience. There was no way that the humans were going to purposely go in their pants for the sake of being more at peace with nature or anything like that. This presentation, they knew, was meant for Owain's own culture, not humans.

Owain didn't take their reluctance sitting down though. His presentation continued. He flipped the page over and revealed a new one with a picture of a frog girl and a sheep guy eating a romantic dinner at a restaurant... it seemed. There weren't many details on the illustration. They had both casually soiled their pants- odor marks rising from their laps- and seemed content about it. On the bottom, they are on a bed, naked, and fucking with both eyes wide and manic with arousal as the sheep guy gets the frog girl from behind.

"And connecting yourself with your instinctual primal self gives you a better edge in primal activities," Owain chuckled, "Like mating."

It was the first point Owain had made that resonated with his human audience, even if it wasn't very convincing. Getting better in the sheets? It was a welcome improvement even if nobody in the room was up for soiling themself to get there.

Owain flipped back and revealed another page. It was a menacing dragon glaring down a group of various animal people- 'zoomans' as they called themselves. Most of them were rightly terrified, bawling and holding their crotches like if they clamped their jeans tight enough that would stop them from totally filling their pants with their bodily wastes. There was an otter girl with glasses stood determined, fists out to fight- her pants as soaked as the others but not detered by her accident.

Owain liked that illustration. The confident otter girl looked like a friend of his although his friend was not one to purposely soil herself very often although she was halfways confident and had an equally expressive rack.

"Those who purposely soil themselves," said Owain, "they handle themselves better in stressful situations! They are more confident! They are leaders."

Most of the roommates had resigned to making through the presentation and not caring about the sentiment behind it. It was something to suffer, not to enlighten.

Owain flipped a page and the next one was blank. That was the end of his presentation, but he had more things to say. He held the pointer in his meaty clawed hand and paced around the room, tail bouncing behind him.

"Human society has a tyrannical hold on bladders," said Owain. He adjusted his glasses, "Your species is so focused on not soiling one's pants that your brain is constantly burdened with it. It limits mental energy and even blocks latent psychic powers! Your society is dumber because you are all so scared of wetting your pants!"

No one had a comment or question. What was there to say? They were deeply uncomfortable with the notion and weren't up to entertain any of Owain's zooman philosophies. They quietly fidgeted and kept to themselves.

Milrew was disappointed, but not surprised. He stood back up on his seat, "That's why tomorrow at 1 o'clock we will be having a night of soiling one's pants!"

There was disgust and chatter in the audience. The roommates expressed discontent. Milrew leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his arms, reserving to their complaints. He knew they were going to complain.

"There has to be a better way," said Darryl, "This is fucking stupid!"

Milrew, fed up with their upset, crossed his arms and shouted at them, sharp teeth on display with his barks, "Maybe there is a better way but I will not pursue any! By midnight tomorrow, everyone in this house will have better soil themselves- both one and two- or else!"

Owain walked over and put a hand on his friend, "Milrew, you don't have to be so forceful!"

Milrew took a deep breath in and out. His scowled faded to a innocent grin, "I know this is weird and embarrassing for you, but I assure on the other side of this, you will be your new selves!"

Tina rose her head, looking past her hair shyly. If everyone hadn't quieted down no one would have heard her. She spoke, "What about the smell?"

Milrew leaned back against the chair, "We set up air fresheners all over the house earlier. Enchanted ones that will mask most of the smell."

Owain perked up, "They're already set up? Then let's try them out?"

Owain stared into space, there was a loud hiss, and the others watched as wetness raced down his pant legs, soaking his drawers. Water drizzled down his pants and tinkled on the floor, drenching the carpet at his wolfy feet.

The roommates that were close to Owain backed away, with a few of them hopping out of their seats. The wolf continued his pee, the loud stain growing on the front of his slacks. The things were soaked.

The housemates screamed at the display! It was psychotic to them, a wolf man so casually pissing his pants! A few of them even felt nauseous at the event.

Just as his urination was finishing, squelching began. It trumpeted behind him with loud belches. Those with a view behind him would see his pants twitch underneath his tail, and a form pushed out behind him.

He remained content and still while a bulge grew on the back of his pants. The form grew heavy and his pants sagged. At the end of his relief, the squelching became pathetic squeaks and the bathroom break ended.

Owain sniffed into the air, "Its odor is reduced considerably!"

No one cared. A wolf man had just purposely gone in his pants in front of all of them and they were all disgusted. The puddle on the floor soaked into the carpet. Owain took a few steps and his load jiggled.

"I can't believe you did that!" said one of the roommates.

Owain noticed no one was impressed but he chuckled to himself because he knew statistically that at least one of them, if air fresheners hadn't vacated the scent, would find the smell of his product to be a turn on.

Milrew went by a few final points including that the clearers would be nearby to help anyone with being changed. Some rules were in display: Milrew warned that scaring oneself or hypnotizing oneself into soiling would not count for the project quota and Owain even suggested that the best way to inspire soiling oneself is by distraction: like a video game, movie or book. That was the advice he had, and the housemates had to accept that. The meeting was adjourned.

For the rest of the night, it was awkward for the humans to talk to each other. Most of the housemates kept to themselves, but Darryl went to Sharon's room to hangout and talk. It started as a friendly talk about last week's episode of A Matter of Pride- a lion-focused sitcom- but they couldn't ignore the elephant in the room.

"So we're going to have to crap ourselves tomorrow," said Darryl, breaking any conversation they were having like a brick on a glass table.

Sharon sighed and rubbed her arms nervously, "I still can't imagine doing it." She chortled, "It reminds me of this guy my sister knew that was chained up by the police for hours. He needed to use the washroom but the cops wouldn't let him so after awhile he ended up peeing his pants."

Darryl snerked, "That would do it, yeah."

Sharon smirked, "Maybe we should drinking a whole carton of apple juice?"

"That or a whole carton of ex-lax," said Darryl.

"Pretty sure that's cheating," said Sharon.

"Lots of fluids and a big meal is the way to go then," said Darryl.

"Promise me you won't think anything less of me when you see me walking around in pissed and shat pants," said Sharon.

"I've already seen you in pissed and shit pants," said Darryl, thinking back to an incident where Milrew had a couple housemates wrangle a bunch of mind-draining animals.

Sharon put a finger up to her chin, "Really? When?"

"It was when we had to catch those sugar gliders," said Darryl, "You don't remember because one of them got you. In a dumbed down state, you went in your pants."

"Oh..." Sharon chuckled, blushing.

"And me?" said Darryl, "One of them landed on my head and got me so scared I pissed and shit my pants!"

Sharon couldn't take it anymore. She dropped her pants and spread on the bed. Darryl whipped out his cock, already hard, and got down on Sharon like a leopard in the jungle. He vibrated into her while she grunted and pried her legs open like she was trying to kick herself in the head. Tomorrow was going to be a wreck of a day but at least in that night they were able to enjoy something very adult.

Tina wandered the halls. Nervous like the rest of her roommates, she felt too awake to even lay on her bed. The night was quiet which only heightened the anxiety about tomorrow.

Tina was shy about exploring the topic, even in her own thoughts, but she had to think about it. Why would something so babyish be so beneficial to them, she wondered.

It made no sense to her but in the last while of dealing with supernatural things and interacting with the supernatural world, Tina knew there was a lot out there and a lot about humans she did not know.

Imagining herself purposely going in her pants got her thinking about Orange. It didn't see anything wrong with a grown adult doing something like that. If she was going to do this she would get to spend more time around Orange. It would make her feel good.

Towards the living room at the end of the hall the door to the changing room stood at the corner. The clearers were likely inside. Without knocking Tina went to the door and went inside.

"Which one do you prefer?" asked the blue clearer to Orange, "Five or seven?"

"Seven," said Orange.

"Funny," said the blue one, "I prefer five."

The two clearers, seated on opposite ends of the room, sitting on chairs, saw Tina enter.

"Greetings, Tina," said Orange, smiling- its mouth like a spray-on graphic on its plexiglass face.

"Hey..." Tina said giving a half-assed wave, "Can we talk?"

"Of course," said Orange. It gestured at the blue clearer, "This clearer and I were ranking numbers in terms of likeability. Which do you prefer: five or seven?"

Tina blinked, "I... don't. Either of them."

The clearers glanced at each other. "Looks like we'll have to start over from square one then."

"I didn't come to talk about numbers," said Tina, "I came to talk to you. In private."

"There is no need for privacy around any of us," said the blue clearer, "Do not feel embarrassed."

It made sense to Tina that she didn't need to feel shame around any of the clearers, even with the weird things she was going to talk about. She took a seat- anything she could say to Orange she could say to the other clearer.

Tina walked over to another plastic chair, pulled it over to Orange and sat down. She slumped her chin into her hands, "I'm anxious about tomorrow."

"They are having you urinate and defecate into your garments, aren't they?" asked the blue one.

"Yeah..." said Tina, "I'm not looking forward to it."

Orange's eyes glowed, "It is because you humans are trained to not urinate and defecate freely and thus doing so would be a social embarrassment."

Tina nodded, saying nothing.

"The thing to remember is that all of these things are subjective," said the blue one, "There is no objective problem whether you urinate into a toilet or into your pants."

That didn't make Tina feel better. She wasn't interested in objectivity.

"If I go in my pants," said Tina, "Would you change me, Orange?"

"Of course!" said Orange, with a big smile, "That's what I am here for!"

Having more time with Orange was a motivator for sure, even if she was still grossly uncomfortable with the notion.

"Do you need a change right now?" asked the blue one.

Tina shook her head, "No."

"Maybe you should practice," said Orange.

"I don't know if I can," said Tina, "and I only want to have pee and poop my pants once."

"It would be good practice," said Orange.

It had a point and Tina was right there so once she did the deed she could get changed right away. She squirmed in her seat, "But how do I do this?"

"Can you not simply... let go?" asked the blue one.

Tina sat still, closed her eyes, and concentrating on letting her bladder unlock. She could feel herself put energy in opening up but there was more restraint. She gripped her seat and breathed hard.

"Try imaging yourself as a monkey," said Orange, "like your ancestors millions of years ago."

A dumb monkey, Tina thought. She thought about being a dumb monkey and sitting in the middle of a large jungle. Squatted over to relieve herself. Her chair felt like a toilet the way the curves rubbed her pelvic bone.

After a moment of trying and nothing coming out, Tina sighed, "I... can't."

"You tried," said Orange.

"You'll get it next time," reassured the blue one.

Tina got up, "Thanks anyway. Maybe I'll try sleeping."

Orange grinned, "Good night."

The blue one gave her a good night and Tina walked out the room. The clearers continued their tournament of numbers.