Tale #137: A Thanksgiving in Diapers (P2)

(Part 2) If unyielding flatulence had been the only consequence, then PJ wouldn't have had any regrets over the sheer excess that had been the chili-dog plate. If he hadn't been going into the rest of the day in a diaper, which itself was a consequence of his rampant bedpooping, then he could have lived down a 'one-time freak accident'. Those had not been the factors in play though; those weren't the cards that he'd been dealt. His stomach had felt funny before they had even left the booth. PJ had gorged on a meal that was too big for him, against the advice of his parents who thought it might spoil his appetite for dinner later, and it had settled like a greasy rock in the pit of his tummy. The feeling hadn't subsided whenever the family had finally all finished and started to head back to the car; if anything, the gross feeling had been worsened by an anxious fluttering. Quite understandable, since PJ had to walk across the parking lot in a diaper that could be seen by anyone with semi-functioning eyes. He'd tried to stay close to his parents, to use them as camouflage, but the parking lot was far too active for him to fully escape the prying eyes of bemused onlookers. Hard to blame them for staring, especially the kids, who didn't see a ten year old boy in diapers every day. When they made it back to the car, he'd begged to get clothes out of his bag to change into, but he'd been denied. His father mentioned that him and Theo could get changed into their regular clothes at their final stop before their destination, whenever they were getting gas and having the final toilet break of the drive. When PJ pressed harder about it, he got a swat and was chided about leaking earlier, even though that really hadn't been his fault. Dejected and openly diapered, the boy had slunk back to his seat in the car and buckled up. He didn't understand why his parents had to be so difficult about things, and he hated that he had to sit next to Theo with his babypants on display. His only solace was that the car was a somewhat private place, so his shame would be neatly contained for the time being. Eventually, him and his brother would play some car games, and PJ would let himself forget about his situation. At least until the toots started up. They were pretty quiet at first, and pretty small, but they were also hard to hold back. The bulk of the diaper actually made it harder for him to effectively clench his buttcheeks, so he kept warming his seat with intermittent farts. The smell wasn't too bad at first, muffled by the odor-blocking padding of the diaper and the plentiful powdering that he'd gotten. They would grow worse over time though, and while it was amusing to make fart jokes with his little brother, the gas was climbing up to dangerous levels, where he feared about the inevitable 'fire' that was making all this 'smoke'. It was a little over two hours past their departure from the diner whenever PJ felt that something more than gas was knocking at his backdoor. "Umm, dad? Can we stop? I need to use the bathroom..." "The gas station is coming up; just hold it." PJ frowned and fidgeted in his seat, "Umm...Like, for how long?" It wasn't a question that he wanted to have to ask, because it was a tacit admission that he was scared that an accident was actually possible. It floated the idea that he couldn't hold it like a big boy should be able. "Fifteen minutes, champ. You can hold on that long." As it would turn out, his father was overestimating PJ's abilities, and that would very soon become obvious. PJ made it pretty far, if any credit should be allowed for that; he'd not only made it to the parking lot of the gas station, but he'd been en route to the toilets. Thighs pressed together, both hands pushing on the seat of his diaper with all their might, and buttcheeks clenched like never before. But that simply wasn't enough to contend with the raw force that his lunch had launched against his poor intestines; every shambling step forward had been propelled by a toot slipping out, and halfway across the parking lot, those toots had become wet enough to leave a mark. He didn't make it to the bathroom before his control completely collapsed. He was forced to stop in his tracks, still several feet away from the door, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It came out like a boiling geyser, splattering and flooding his crinkly undergarment with a deluge of soft poop. He felt the diaper warm against his palms as it filled with the hot sludge, and he whimpered quietly in shame. If context clues from his body language weren't enough, then the symphony of rude noises and the discoloration of his diaper should have laid the facts bare. PJ was pooping his pants in broad daylight; not just a little, but a lot. "PJ! You were right there!" His mother sighed in exasperation, while Theo watched in awe. "I-I couldn't hold it, mommy..." He whined, still farting and feeling soft lumps pushing out into the toxic swamp of his puffy pants. His mother roughly grabbed him by the arm, clearly frustrated by her eldest son's toileting  regression. She led him again into the women's restroom, while Theo took his backpack and headed into the other bathroom to change into his day clothes. PJ was again told to finish up his business, which he shamefully had to squat to take care of. A little girl and her mother came in shortly after and the girl gawked at the gross spectacle of the older boy having explosive diarrhea in his sagging, browning diaper. It was just another blemish on the holiday for PJ. After he felt adequately emptied out, he bashfully let his mother know and she got him cleaned up again. It took a lot more wipes this time, for obvious reasons, but he was eventually left back in a fresh diaper. Then, as earlier promised, she took him back to the car to get changed into some real clothes. It was PJ's hope that the diarrheal nature of his accident would be taken for what it was, and not be attributed to a genuine lack of daytime control over his bowels. With the friction that his nighttime issues had caused, it was a treacherous slope to be walking on. The last leg of the trip was under an hour, and while Theo was happy to see their grandparents' house coming up, PJ was more anxious than anything. He didn't want his grandma or grandpa to find out about his issue, nor any cousins, aunts, or uncles! It was bad enough that everyone in his immediate family knew! Hypothetically, it could have easily remained a secret. If he wasn't padded already, and if his brother didn't have loose lips, then he could secretly get it on before bed and get changed before breakfast the next day, without anyone being the wiser! As it was though, he knew it would only be a matter of time before everyone heard about his infantile behavior. Once they parked, Theo and PJ were only tasked with taking their own bags, so that they could take them up to the guest room they would be sharing. The boys made their way inside and were quickly greeted by the many different voices of their relatives, some of which had made a similar journey to be here. It was a motley crew of relatives that included the likes of: Uncle Joel, with Karen his wife, and their two kids: Kelly and Richie; Aunt Beth, with her boyfriend Santiago, and her son Wesley, and then their grandparents. But something was missing, and PJ was hoping that it would *stay* missing. He hadn't seen hide or hair of his obnoxious cousin Reuben or his equally terrible sister Ruby. They were the preteen twins of his Uncle Blake, and that whole side of the family was snobby and strange. They were private school kids that had the whole creepy twin vibe going for them and they were the most spoiled pests that PJ knew. They'd somehow slipped his mind until now, when he'd done a little headcount in the living room. They didn't show up for every holiday, since they also lived pretty far away, but they sure knew how to ruin the ones that they did attend. PJ tried to push aside the thought of them and instead went to the guest room with his brother, so they could set their stuff down. As usual, the bed had a plastic sheet on it, as Theo couldn't be trusted, but now that was a genuine reflection on PJ too, even if his grandparents weren't aware of it. If PJ could have gotten away with it, then he would have stayed in the guest room until dinner. He had no desire to socialize when he was sporting toddler couture under his shorts. Alas, his sourpuss behavior was unacceptable and his mother eventually kicked him out of the room whenever she noticed that he hadn't been hanging around the yard or the playroom. So he went out and awkwardly mingled, doing his part to say hello to the various relatives around the house; he got his cheeks pinched and was told how big he was getting, which was the usual crud he had to suffer. Nobody seemed aware of his diaper, thankfully, which he hoped had been helped by the pair of undies he'd layered on top of them, which helped cut down on the rustling. He would eventually find himself outside in the front yard with his little brother and the other two boys, Richie and Wesley. At ten, PJ was the oldest kid among them, with Theo being eight, Richie being six, and Wesley being three. Theo suggested a friendly little game of football, to honor the holiday, and PJ reluctantly agreed, though with the condition that it have certain rules. To be fair, only PJ could be tackled, and the other three boys would only need to be touched, as to keep everyone relatively safe with the wildly different sizes. The next issue was a matter of teams, and Theo said that PJ and Wesley should be a team. The snide way he said it, made PJ think the declaration had a hidden subtext, but Theo rationalized that the biggest and smallest player would make it the most balanced. As they lined up to play though, PJ saw the waistband of a Pampers popping out the back of Wesley's pastel shorts, and it became clear that this was the 'diaper boy' team. Football went fine for a while, with PJ mostly ignoring his bumbling teammate and instead using his superior athleticism to run rampant. Even with the diaper on, he was still able to outpace his brother, and the scoreboard showed it. But then he got sloppy, and some *other* things turned sloppy too. Theo and Richie caught him off-guard with a one-two strategy; Richie had tried to tackle him from the front, and had ended up headbutting PJ in the tummy. The gastric distress from earlier returned with a vengeance, but PJ didn't go down, instead stumbling away from the fallen boy and continuing his trajectory. Having been slowed down though, and the need to poop sharply striking him, he hadn't noticed Theo running up from behind and diving. Theo dived and grabbed a hold of PJ's shorts, then PJ tripped as his shorts went down to his ankles, and he landed hard on his stomach in the grass. Immediately upon impact, he blew a juicy trumpet note into his diaper, and a big mushy turd surged into the seat. While veiled by his underpants, the bulk was undeniable and made his underwear look strange, and pooping himself sure didn't help either. Theo laughed, thinking he'd both stopped a touchdown and humiliated his brother, and as he got up, he put his palm on his brother's padded rump for balance. Which is when he mashed the fresh load flat. "Oh my gosh, *again*? You did it *again*?" PJ groaned and rolled over once he was able, before swiftly getting his shorts pulled back up. "I-I didn't do anything!" His cousins looked confused by the conversation, and PJ huffed that he was heading inside, which only confirmed for Theo that his brother had again messed himself during the day. Needless to say, PJ wasn't having a good time. As he waddled back into the house with warm poop smothering his backside, he felt even smaller than Wesley. He should have taken care of the problem himself, but he didn't have the confidence to tackle it, especially when he was a guest in someone else's house. So he found his mother and had to whisper in her ear that he needed help. He had to admit that he'd soiled himself again. He had to ask for another diaper change, only a few hours since his last. She wasn't happy. She even questioned if he was doing this out of spite for the fact that she'd made him wear the diaper today, and he had to insist that everything had been very much accidental. He blamed the chili-dog, he blamed getting hit in the stomach, and she just shook her head at him. She changed him, but mentioned that changes onward would be more sparse, since she hadn't accounted for how many diapers he'd needed on the trip. He'd already used three, and he'd need one for bed for two nights, and one for the trip back home. She wasn't confident they could find a suitable fit for him out in the boonies. He tried to convince her that it would only be nighttime accidents from here on out, but she didn't look very convinced, and for good reason; today had painted PJ in a very unflattering light. As he would return back to the festivities, he had to wonder if any of his relatives were aware that he'd been walking around the house with a giant dump in his pants while he'd been searching for his mom. Nobody gave him any strange looks, so it looked like his secret was still safe, at least amongst the adults. Around the two boys he'd messed his diaper in front of, it was less certain that his secret was still a secret. At the least, they'd seen his 'weirdly thick underwear' and heard him have a gnarly gas attack in them, so there were probably some suspicions. It wasn't even time to cut the turkey yet and the holiday had already been too much for PJ.