Story #196: Of Pampers and Poopies

Story #196: Of Pampers and Poopies (Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, slice of life, babysitter scenario, role reversal) "Okay, mudbutt. Let's get that gross diaper taken care of, alright?" "I-I can't yet..." "What do you mean by 'can't'? I wasn't giving you the option to put if off; the room reeks, you're going to get a rash, and if that thing *leaks*--" "-- I still have to go." Mitchell pursed his lips after interrupting his babysitter to explain the truth. There was no part of him that wanted to admit to even having a dirty diaper, let alone that he still needed to dirty it some more, but the alternative would have been to immediately crap in a fresh one, which would have obviously just irritated the older girl further. As experienced as she was at babysitting, Mitchell doubted that Judy had ever had to deal with a scenario quite like this. Maybe she'd run into something similar with a toddler or late-blooming preschooler, but certainly not with a kid that could tie their own laces and cook their own spaghettios. No, this was unfamiliar territory for the both of them, because Mitchell hadn't been a 'dirty diaper boy' for very long. In fact, this was the first babysitter he'd had since becoming one, and thus the first true foray into having this new reality viewed by those outside his own immediate family. Sure, he'd gone out in public with a diaper under his pants, but it wasn't like anyone else knew about it. This was different. There could be no hiding anything from a babysitter, as it was their exact job to keep a close eye on their ward. It definitely hadn't helped that the initial soiling had been a dead giveaway to the secret he'd wanted to keep so close to his chest. And she'd assumed that it was Bethany! His baby sister! But no, because Bethany was actually in big kid underwear, which was a lot more than Mitchell could boast these days. She got panties and praise, and he got Pampers and poopies. It hardly felt fair. He'd already known that it was over whenever that turd has nestled its way into the back of his britches; he'd known that the smell would inevitably be an issue, and outside of performing a very secret diaper change on himself, that those fumes would eventually grace his babysitter's nostrils. It'd come so unexpectedly too! He'd spent the afternoon psyching himself up about retaining his dignity throughout the evening, and then he'd let himself get too distracted, and the whole house of cards had fallen right over. There had been an erroneous belief that playing video games would be a good way to pass the time, and that it'd keep him distanced enough from Judy's attention. What it'd really accomplished had been that he'd gotten so ensnared by the dopamine-inducing gameplay, that all signals from down below were set to silent. He'd only realized that he'd crapped himself whenever he'd gone from sitting on his knees to lowering his bottom back on the carpet. Warm, squishy, and sticky. That'd been the feeling inside the back of his diaper. That had been the first and final alarm that his body was willing to give him about the load being dropped off. It made for the world's most ineffective security system, which would only alert you once your house had already been broken into, robbed, and burnt to the ground. What a joke! But he hadn't been laughing. Quite the contrary, he'd been both mortified and petrified. The babysitter had only been there for less than thirty minutes, and he'd already gone and crapped his pants while she was still basically settling in. It wasn't enough to fail his mission at achieving basic dignity, but he'd failed almost immediately! So there he'd sat, with a hot dump simmering beneath him, and with the fetid fumes wafting up to tell his nose what his buttcheeks already knew. The act on an emotional level hadn't ever dulled in severity, with each accident bringing fresh shame to wash over him, and the tactile disgust had only subsided minutely over the last few weeks. He could pretty easily zone it out, if there was something to distract him, but if his mind was focused on the accident in question, then there was little he could do to whisk away those thoughts. He didn't like the way that the load pressed against his bottom, especially whenever he was sitting and the mess was packing his crack like spackle between bricks; the stickiness was also repulsive, as was the tingling against his skin as the gas bubbles ruptured. And then there was the odor; it was obvious that others found it more putrid than he did, but he in no way liked it either. It really put into perspective how much the water in a toilet bowl did to mute the stench of stool. This was far more readily apparent whenever he had to be right next to the smell for long periods of time. And that very smell was his undoing, obviously enough. He'd been too anxious to move off the floor, and like any child his age, he'd simply hoped that things would work out without any personal effort. The rational side of him, for as small as it was, knew that no magic solution would float his way, but the rest of him was too small to acknowledge that. With the passing of enough minutes, the rank plumes had spread far further than the immediate confines of his hidden diaper; he knew as much whenever he heard the teenager start to sniff at the air. "Bethany? Everything okay over there?" His baby sister had been preoccupied with her baby doll, and at the time, it had appeared that she'd been ignorant to what was going on. Their parents, to their credit, had done quite a bit to shield all the accidents that he'd had as of late; Bethany was aware that Mitchell kept getting in trouble, and that he kept getting pulled away, but she didn't know the full story. It was something that should have been obvious to her by now, but her mind was still young, and her sense of perception still very immature; her brain filled in blanks with things she already knew to be true, such as that Mitchell was a 'big boy', which made it so much easier to not notice the way his pants crinkled, or why he'd been so sulky lately. To put it more plainly, his sister didn't actually know that Mitchell was back in diapers. It was less hard to believe when realizing what a short period he'd been padded, and when taking into account the discretion thus far, but all illusions of Mitchell being a 'big boy' were about to be shattered. Mitchell knew that full-well when he saw Judy move closer to the little girl; he watched as she knelt down and gave Bethany a gentle pat on the back, smiling sweetly and with no judgement in her eyes. "It's a little stinky in here, don't you think?" Bethany looked up and gawked, "Tinky? Yuh-huh! It *is* tinky!" "Do you have any idea why that might be?" Bethany shook her head and idly bounced the doll in her hands, "Nope! Maybe my dolly did an uh-oh." The babysitter chuckled, "Maybe, but I think we should check *your* diaper first." "I dun' wear diapees! Mm'a big girl!" To Judy, it must have appeared obvious that the tot was using transference to pin the deed on the doll, and that the fib about not wearing diapers was simply the resolve of a kid ready to be out of them. If Judy were to take her previous experience into account, then this would have been something she'd encountered countless times before. But Bethany wasn't lying. Unlike Mitchell, she'd never had any potty problems past training at a commendably young age; diapers or Pull-Ups were practically foreign to her, even if many of her playmates in daycare still struggled to slip those babyish bonds. "Is that so? Well, your mommy said something a little different. Now just let me take a quick peak, okay?" What chaos it would be whenever the teenager discovered that her employer's words had been so completely misconstrued! The job had indicated that diaper changes may be involved, but it has never stipulated who they would belong to... "...Oh! Um, you're *not* wearing diapers." Judy blinked, looking confused as she was greeted by the sight of pink panties, which were completely unmarred. "Dat's what I tol' you!" And so it really only left one suspect to paint as the culprit, did it not? Two kids in the room, and one had already been absolved of guilt, which only left the unchecked other. It only left Mitchell, who was meekly sitting in front of the television, with a steaming dump in his diaper. "Mitchell? Is there something you need to tell me?" Judy's voice was still gentle, but it held more judgment than it had when speaking to Bethany. It was normal enough for a preschooler to still have pottytraining delays or accidents, but Mitchell was no preschooler. He wasn't so old that an accident was completely off the table, but the diaper containing said accident would be a real curveball, even with his mother's words in Judy's ear. "...No." "Do you know why it's stinky in here? Do you want to tell me in private?" That had been when she'd still wanted to spare his ego a devastating strike; there was still a good deal of mercy in that moment. Sure, that mercy would have evaporated once she better understood the truth, but he could have at least avoided getting outed in front of his baby sister. "...N-no. Maybe it was just a fart?" The older girl sighed quietly, but Mitchell felt the frustration radiating off of her; it began as tepid, as lukewarm, but it would soon begin to boil over as her charge opted to take the difficult path of most resistance. "Mitchell, are you saying that you farted? I think it's been a little too stinky for too long for it to be just a toot, kiddo." Mitchell could feel his sister's eyes on him; Bethany was focused on what was unfurling before her, even if she didn't fully understand it. For even a mind as young as hers, it was becoming readily apparent that Judy was making the same accusation that she'd levied at her, except now the target was someone unimaginable. "I dunno..." The boy looked down at the carpet, wiggling anxiously and feeling the muck spread even further around. "Look, I'm just going to give you a little check too, just to be fair. Alright?" Her tone suggested that it was simple procedure, and that she didn't really believe him to be the caca culprit in the room, but her tone was itself a deception. Mitchell found the power to stand up, as awkward and uncomfortable as it happened to be, and he looked caught between thoughts of flight and fight. Running would make him look guilty, but staying would only confirm who the real smelly baby was. His only reasonable option was to try to negotiate his way out of it, but he truthfully just didn't have the chops for that. "I'm a b-big boy, Judy. I don't need to be checked!" He fussed, his anxiety giving life to indignant outrage that he lamely hoped would coax her to end this hunt. "You're never too big to have an accident, Mitchell. I already checked your sister, so it's only fair that I check you too. It doesn't make you a baby, okay?" But it did. Maybe not the simple act of pooping his pants, but what he'd done the act inside of; what he was wearing beneath his shorts was undeniably infantile. Any eleventh hour protests weren't even entertained, and the teen just came closer and closer, until she had wedged a finger in the back of his waistband. Within an inch of tugging the waistband out, away from his backside, and the game was definitively lost. Staring back at her wasn't the colorful cotton briefs that were plastered in cute cartoons, but it was the puffy white wall of protection that should have only been reserved for a tot that was half Mitchell's age, if even as little at that. "Oh...!" An ironic mirroring of the same shocked response she'd had to finding no diaper on Bethany; it was an unintentional callback that accentuated how opposite the expectations had been for the two children. Mitchell didn't respond to it, or he at least couldn't bring himself to. His hands were frozen in front of him, his eyes filling with tears of shame, and his grimace becoming something more dire. Judy didn't seek a response either, instead probing one layer deeper, as to finally ascertain the truth she already knew. Once he felt the cool air against the crook of his back, and the fumes of his failure were allowed to waft up in complete freedom, he knew that his lackluster lie had been officially aired out for the load of literal crap that it was. "Mitchell...Why didn't you tell me about this? You said you were a big boy, but a big boy wouldn't just sit around in his...poopy diaper, and then lie about it! That's something a little baby would do." Her chastising words were like lashes, and the worst part was how much of a pause she'd had to take to actually say what the boy was sitting in; those words felt so alien to use here, so unexpected, that her normal babysitting speeches came from a place of disorientation. It would take her a few moments to adapt, to process, but once she did, she would reorient to a position where she saw Mitchell as little more than a toddler. His responses to her lecturing were full of sniffles and murmurs, and he could hardly focus on her words whenever faced with hearing the cruel giggling of his little sister in the background. Mitchell's diaper was on full display, and maybe there was still some physical subtlety to its alleged dirtiness, but Judy's word was enough confirmation to convince Bethany of what the situation was. Once the chiding had ended, and Judy had made some semblance of peace with the idea that the diapered child under her care was actually the older one, she settled off her high horse and told him it was time to get cleaned up. Mitchell would have loved if that had been the end of it, but his gut had been on fire from the emotional turmoil he was being assaulted with, and he knew that he wasn't done. Which is what had led things to this point; instead of being able to find a swift end to the humiliation sagging from his waist, he was forced to admit that his shameful display still had one act to go. "I-I still have to go..." "...Oh!" And there it was for a third time, except Judy sounded even less composed than the last. "Uh, well, don't you want to try doing that on the...potty?" The question lacked a certainty of knowledge; the babysitter honestly had no idea whether toileting was even something that the diapered boy was capable of, and she wasn't sure if it'd come across as hurtful if he had some medical condition that made any sort of pottytraining a non-starter. It was yet another moment where she cursed the fact that she'd taken on the job with so little information to go on. "I don't think I can make it." Mitchell mumbled, wiping the tears from his eyes and wincing again at the rolling cramp in his belly. "Okay, that's okay...Just, uh...Go ahead and finish up, alright? And then we can get you squared away." Judy awkwardly tried to comfort him. "I'll go get the stuff while you take care of that, okay?" Mitchell nodded and watched as the teenager started to head out of the room; he thought briefly on the fact that she hadn't asked where to find what she was seeking, but those thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the boiling below. He pulled his shorts back up over the garment and took a deep breath to steady himself. He started to push, hoping that it'd be a quick and painless resolution, but all that came out was a rumbling thunder. "Hehe...Big brudder is a big *baby*." His efforts came to a standstill immediately whenever he heard that; Bethany's voice was like the arrow that pierced his already tattered chainmail. It was a decisive moment too: would he take the insult laying down, or would he assert his position in the familial hierarchy? His ego had already taken a brutal beating in a very short period, and his pride was already wounded from all that had come before tonight; if he had any hope of holding onto what little he had left, then he couldn't let any comment go uncontested, even one from a toddler. "Shut up! I am not, Bethany! You're the baby!" The boy barked, caught in a futile tizzy; as the last word danced off his lips, another juicy blast sputtered wetly into his poopy padding. "A baby goin' poo-poo again in his diapee!" The younger girl chirped in a mocking, sing-song voice. The dynamic between the two had seen a world-shattering flip, and while Mitchell wouldn't admit that to himself yet, it would very soon become apparent where his new role in the family was. After all, she had panties and praise, and he had Pampers and poopies.