Story #169: No Tourists Allowed

Story #169: No Tourists Allowed (Second part to 'Dummy Daydreams of Dookie Diapers') (Content Tags: Messy diapers, mushbrain antagonist, diaper-brained protagonist, diaper squishing, forced diaper sniffing) Diego Gomez, or 'Slowmez', as other kids had been swift to assign, had once been a completely normal kid. Decent grades, plenty of friends, could talk to girls, and he was a star on the soccer field. That was who he had once been, before his unfortunate bicycling accident, for which he admittedly was being reckless. Since that day, he'd been anything but normal. His thoughts were sluggish and impotent, his reasoning simple, his language infantilized, his eyes dull, his mouth damp with slobber, and his toileting had returned back to a time where dumps belonged inside his pants instead of outside them. No longer was he gearing up to watch tween dramas on television, instead his focus being more effectively captured by the bright colors and mindless plots of cartoons meant for an intended audience of drooly pantsfillers, though most of them were many years his junior. It'd been as if various early stages of development, different aged versions of himself, had been sloppily and randomly stitched together to make a whole new Diego. Toileting of a two year old, vocabulary of a Kindergartner, drooling of an infant, but all those different developmental levels all shared the same preteen form that was his outward appearance. One thing that had stayed at the same age had been his capacity for feeling ashamed of himself. It was probably the one part of the brain that someone in his condition would have been better off losing, but it was as healthy and strong as ever. There were no bones to be made about whether or not he was mentally retarded, or rather 'severely intellectually impaired', but unlike most others in the same camp, he had distinct memories of when he'd been normal, and that normal part of him still felt the sting of humiliation. For Diego, life could be thought of as an unending nightmare. One from which there was no waking point in sight. Normal one moment and then pooping in diapers the next. Whenever they'd moved to a new neighborhood, Diego had actually been pretty happy. That meant a new school district too, where people at least wouldn't have known him as something he once was; instead, everyone would only see a dimwit that they could assume had always been that way. As sad as it was, it was preferable to be thought of as if he'd been born this way, rather than that he'd lost everything being a stupid show off. While his father had meant well, he'd come to revert to treating Diego as nothing more than a large toddler. It was appropriate for Diego's fallen intellect, but it still reminded the boy that nobody saw him as a normal kid anymore. His little brother, Carlos, sure as heck didn't. More than anyone else, Carlos seemed bereft of the sympathy that Diego was surely owed; Carlos was younger, so Diego cut him a small amount of slack, but it didn't make his mockery or condescension any less hurtful. And then there was Landon. Landon was a bridge between Diego and Carlos in terms of age, being almost a perfect middle point. That was just by physical age though, if mental age was to be considered, then Landon was the 'oldest' of the three boys in the house. Unlike with how Diego could make excuses for his brother's rudeness, he really thought that Landon was old enough to be held culpable for how mean-spirited he'd been. Ever since moving in, when Diego had helplessly stooled in his diaper while in Landon's bedroom, the boy had been taking every opportunity to demean, belittle, and taunt Diego. It was like he always was keeping an eye out for Diego, so that he could come and bully him some more. Crude nicknames, invasive questions about the state of his diaper, and even unwarranted bumchecks. Diego didn't know what the heck Landon's problem was, but he'd grown to despise the wretched brat. With that hate had also grown the insidious seed of envy; Diego had become covetous, and who could blame him? Landon was about the same age that Diego had been the last time he was normal; the life that Landon was allowed to lead was just like the life that had been taken away from Diego. It was an injustice that Diego could be left with nothing but his shame, but that Landon could conjure such cruelty and be untouched by the harrowing hands of fate. Diego hated Landon, not because of the way that Landon treated him, but simply because Landon had something that Diego wanted more than anything: normalcy. Or so he had thought. Diego wasn't much of a thinker these days, so it hadn't occurred to him that there might be a reason that Landon was so obsessed with him. Someone with a few more brain cells probably could have figured things out, but it was just textbook bullying as far as Diego was concerned. So it came as a shock whenever he'd been awoken from his gentle slumber in front of the television. "M'jussa dumb diaper-dooker..." On the coffee table, sitting atop some magazines, was a baby monitor. It was only turned on by chance, as his father had forgotten about it from earlier in the day, whenever Diego had been playing alone in his room. It wasn't really necessary to have, but his father still seemed unsure just how young to treat his son, and the thought of him sitting unsupervised upstairs was still a bridge too far. The baby monitor was there just for the possibility that Diego might hurt himself and need help. Diego's voice hardly ever graced the thing, and it was more typical that his flatulence or soiling was received by the one-way transmission. But someone was talking on it. Someone that sounded a lot like Landon, and he was saying some very questionable and outlandish things. Diego wasn't sure what to make of it. Unsure exactly what he'd find up there, he gently toggled the power off of the monitor and made his way to his bedroom. Sneaking up to his own door and cracking it slowly open, he was greeted by a surreal sight he couldn't quite believe: Landon was wearing his clothes. Not only his clothes, but Landon was undeniably wearing a plastic pants covered diaper under the 'Poop Factory' onesie that he'd borrowed. There was a slobbery pacifier between his teeth, and he was rocking back and forth on the wooden horse that Diego's father had bought for him. From the squishy sounds he heard in the room, it became definitively clear that the diaper around Landon's waist was full of poop. Looking across the room, Diego could determine his diaper pail was open too. Diego was no genius, but the pieces were slowly starting to come together, as the picture became too clear for even a blind man to ignore. "Mmmph! Landon is even dumberer tardee than Diego. Diego is like a genius...! He make Landon go poopie on himself like a dumb-dumb loser..." From where Diego was standing, he could see Landon's face getting red. He could relate to the telltale signs that a BM was imminent, even though for Landon this was some strange performance piece instead of his actual reality. Was this some new form of mockery? Dressing and acting like him to make his lowly state into a joke? That felt the most immediately obvious to Diego, but it didn't explain the particular things that Landon was saying. The strange flattery and self-deprecation, and then there was the tidbit about how Diego was apparently 'forcing' Landon to do this; it didn't add up! Diego watched with a gaping, boggled expression as he saw the back of the diaper beginning to puff out underneath the onesie. That distinct crackling and plopping sound that Diego had become so familiar with, but coming from the backside of someone who Diego could never imagine doing something so foul. His housemate, who gleefully called Diego a 'tard' and pushed his palm against the boy's seat to squish his loads, was now himself loading his pants. That's when Landon turned and saw Diego standing in the doorway. That's when the happy smile had turned to a frightened frown, and the drooly pacifier had fallen to the floor. The two made silent eye contact and the world seemed to stop, all except for the turd that Landon had pushed too far out to stop now. Just staring and pooping, as if Landon really was what he'd oddly claimed himself to be. Slow or not, Diego wasn't completely clueless. There was still plenty enough in his noggin to consider the gravity of what he'd walked into. The chubby boy took a step into the room and quietly closed the door behind him; just like with the baby monitor, he wanted a chance to make his own decisions, without Carlos or his father trying to interfere. "You jus' pooped." Diego said plainly, watching as Landon's posture stiffened anxiously. "You gots my diapee on an' you pooed it." The act that Landon had been so utterly enmeshed in had fallen apart the moment he realized he had an audience. He might still be dressed for the part, but he couldn't stay in the character that he'd been so convincing as. His daydreams disrupted, he reverted back to a normal kid that knew there was no easy way to explain any of this. "D-Diego...I...Ummm...Y-you're sleeping! This is just a dream!" That lame excuse chafed the dimwit more than anything else could have. Diego knew he was stupid now, but he hated when people underestimated him to such a level that they thought he'd fall for anything. It spoke to how Landon viewed him, that Diego wasn't even worth an excuse with some thought put behind it. Diego folded his arms, "Nope." Landon visibly recoiled, obviously having expected that Diego would thoughtlessly swallow the lazy lie that'd been served to him. The younger boy bit his lip and started to get up off the rocking horse, "O-okay, well, I was just doing this to... Umm, to make fun of how stupid you are!" That one actually made Diego crack a smile. It made him feel clever that he'd already considered that justification and soundly debunked it. "Nuh-uh. Dun' tink so. You din't know I'd see ya." The other boy was looking impatient, "Think you're so smart, huh?" "Dat's what you said. You said me a genie-yus, an' dat yoos is a dumberer tardee den me. Dat I wuz makin' you go poo on yerself." Landon was looking a little pale as his own words were recited back to him. He was desperately thinking about what a third excuse might be, but Diego was done entertaining such silly lies. The older boy closed the gap between them and put his hand on the back of Landon's onesie-clad rump; without a word, he gave the mushy padding a firm, domineering squeeze and kneaded the fresh load. "Dat diapee wuz already poopy. You got it from da' diapee pail. Dat's got *my* poo in dere." Diego wasn't asking questions, instead just stating the facts as he saw them, and Landon was too timid to deny anything that Diego had deduced. "I-I can explain...Please, just..." Diego gave another squeeze to the bulging seat and shook his head. "Da' twuth. To me or to ma' daddy." The threat was like a punch to the gut for Landon. There was no way he could explain his feelings to a grown-up, especially when they involved so terribly using that grown-up's son as an objectified muse. At least with Diego, there was a believability issue if he tried to relay it to others, but he was still justifiably reluctant to spill his guts about what his motives were here. "...I just...I was just playing pretend...Thought it would be fun to act like I was a...Well, l-like you." He murmured bashfully, looking now at the ground instead of into Diego's eyes. "Pwetend? Ta' be wike me?" Diego furrowed his brow at the bizarre notion. Why would anyone want to pretend like this was their life? To be reduced by so much that they didn't even have the brainpower left to keep droppings out of their pants? To be treated like a complete invalid by everyone who had once respected you? It didn't make sense, and more than that, it was appalling. Diego was stuck in an unending nightmare of humiliation and degradation, and Landon wanted to play pretend that he was the same? It made the dimwit grow increasingly furious at the whole premise. His grip on Landon's bulging seat tightened and he started to breathe more heavily. Landon was nothing but a tourist! A 'tard tourist' who had no concept of what the true tribulations were, but who was intrigued by the idea; except Landon could walk away from that 'life' as easily as taking off the dirty diaper. Diego's life to him was just a game that he thought he could play! Aside from Landon clearly being some kind of weirdo, he was also lacking the empathy that would have made him realize how inappropriate this all was! "...Yoo wanna pwetend ta' be a wee-todd. Jus' fer' fun." Diego gritted his teeth. As his anger was beginning to boil violently under the surface, the chubby boy was letting out some rank toots into his tidy diapee. Landon was the boy that had been *relentlessly* mocking and bullying him for the way he was, and now Diego came to find out that Landon was so amused that he wanted to try it out for himself? All that mental anguish, and Landon was just going to be a happy little tourist? Who after this could peel off that poopy diaper and go back to living a normal life? Back to making Diego's life even worse than it already was. No. Landon shouldn't be allowed to walk away from this without consequence. The boy in the 'Poop Factory' onesie had a face as red as a tomato by this point. "I-I was just curious, Diego. I'm done. P-please don't tell anyone about this..." And now he was asking for mercy? It made Diego so angry that-- --Well, even a dummy like Diego knew what his body was about to do. How he was going to react. He looked down again at where his hand was, gripping onto the lump that Landon had made, as if it was the handle of a leash. He was reminded that the dirty diaper wasn't just filled from Landon; this was a recycled diaper from the top of the pail, and Landon had shockingly been fine with putting it on. "Yoo wike my poop." He firmly asserted, kneading the back of the onesie a little more. "An' yoo wanna be a wee-todd. Wike me." Landon didn't answer, too ashamed of himself to say anything that confirmed that. "Yoo gonna be. Yoo gonna be even dumberer. Jus' wike yoo sed." Using his superior strength, Diego suddenly shoved Landon onto the ground with a nasty squelch. Before the younger boy could react or move, Diego had quickly popped a squat right above the boy's face. All that rage had to come out, and if Landon liked Diego's dookie so much, then he could debase himself by getting a really close whiff of it. "Me gonna be a genie-yus nex' ta yoo!" He grunted, and a powerful fart slapped against the inside of his seat as logs began to push out and heavily plop right into the bottom of his bulky diaper. The garment bulged and drooped. The mass of the stool so dense and copious that it was already touching the tip of Landon's nose. Diego pushed harder, as if to unleash all his fury, and a sputtering of gas brought on a second wave of earthy smelling mush. The warmly loaded diaper was starting to smother Landon's nose, and Diego was intentionally lowering himself to better assault Landon. Diego wasn't completely sure what his plan was yet, but he did know that he would be true to his word. He would make Landon become a worse retard than he himself ever was, just like the little 'tourist' seemingly wanted. He wasn't going to let Landon just be a tourist. Landon was going to be living this life for real, directed sternly by the diaper-dooking dimwit that he'd objectified.