Tale #37: Babysitting the Bully II: Deconstruction

Tale #37: Babysitting the Bully II: Deconstruction (Recap: Jasper is a preteen bully that has harassed a boy in his class named Caiden for several years. This has escalated to a point that Jasper spread a false rumor about Caiden being a bedwetter, further ruining the boy's social standing. Caiden's older brother, Patrick, took a babysitting job for the weekend, and the client is Jasper himself. Knowing he'll have total power over the bully for the weekend, he throws together a plan to make him pay for hurting his little bro. Sweetening the pot, it turns out that Jasper himself is a bedwetter, and so Patrick runs with that, forcing the boy to wear a diaper 'just in case', and going as far as putting him in locking plastic pants, which has now led to a large pantload...) (Content Tags: Messy diaper, diaper squishing, humiliation, punishment, bully getting what he deserves.) Jasper was at a loss for options here. He'd spent a lot of time fussing and arguing with his babysitter about how he didn't need any daytime protection, and now he'd gone and shit his pants. Thirteen was just a hop and a skip from where he was, and instead of taking a big step into 'adulthood', he was shitting in a diaper like an infant. A sneaky clean-up wasn't even an option. The blue locking plastic pants, which had been the instigator of his soiled state in the first place, weren't going anywhere, and that meant no taking this sack of poop off his waist. So Jasper was just staring down at the calm, still water of the toilet bowl. He'd been right here, and in a cruel juxtaposition of reality, his bowel movement was intimately taut against his backside, instead of being callously flushed away to oblivion. The preteen could hardly remember the last time he'd felt like this. He hadn't pooped his pants since Kindergarten, and aside from his sheet-soaking, he wasn't a kid with many insecurities or chances to feel truly pitiful. Gingerly, the wavy-haired boy took a step away from the toilet and turned to look at himself in the mirror. He looked ridiculous to be wearing this at his age, and once he tilted himself some more, he could finally spot the heavy dump he'd just made. Rattled, he rested his palm on the protrusion, feeling the warmth seep even past the thick plastic of the locked covering. 'Scissors...I need to cut this thing off!' The idea finally occurred to him, now that he wasn't desperate to relieve himself, and he began to open all the drawers in the bathroom. Surely there had to be at least one pair in here, for haircuts or *something*! Rifling through each one, he was coming up empty-handed, and before he could finish conducting a thorough search, he heard Patrick calling from the base of the stairs. "Hey, Jasper! Pause your game or whatever and come on down! We need to talk about dinner!" "Shit." Jasper gritted his teeth. The blond stepped outside the bathroom and cupped a hand around his mouth, "Y-yeah, I'll be down in a few minutes!" He shouted, before turning and toddling rapidly back toward his room. There would be no time afforded to him to cut the smelly vestment off; he only had a few scant minutes before his babysitter would grow suspicious and come looking for him, so he would have to mitigate things another way. His best bet, at least for now, was to just cover up and hope that he didn't get sniffed out. Jasper threw on some board shorts and tied the drawstring tightly. Then, in absence of any other ideas, he gave himself a spritz from a can of 'AXE' that he had on his dresser. It was pretty much middle-school cologne, and it was what their locker room always reeked of, but it'd have to suffice to cover up the sordid smell of self-soiling. "Come on, kiddo! Get the lead out!" Patrick called from downstairs, sounding a lot more impatient this time. "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your friggin' horses!" Jasper hollered back, tossing aside the can of deodorant and shuffling out of his room. Patrick was still waiting at the base of the stairs, and he gave a wry smile once he saw Jasper having to come down with a bowed gait. "You really like to take your time, don't you? Well, come on, we need to discuss what pizzas we're going to order." The babysat boy grumbled lowly, but followed the teenager into the living room, keeping his arms folded and a good few feet between him and the teen. Patrick's nose wrinkled, "...You expecting a hot date or something? What's with all the cologne?" "..No reason." Patrick already had an idea what that might mean, but he decided he would mess with Jasper first, before making any accusations. "Alright, well sit down and think about what toppings you want." He gestured toward the couch. Jasper stayed standing, making things even more obvious for his babysitter. "Pepperoni is fine, can I go now?" Patrick shook his head and again gestured for the smaller boy to take a seat. "No, we have to talk about some other stuff too. Now please, sit on the couch until I can get the pizza ordered." The look that Jasper was getting told him that he wouldn't be asked a third time without consequence. With a soft grimace, the preteen gingerly sat on the couch and felt the warm mass in his diaper begin to flatten and mash, spreading out across his buttocks. It was a disgusting experience, somehow even worse than the initial BM being dropped in his pants in the first place, and he worried that it'd only release more of the pungent aroma. Patrick only smiled down at him, seemingly unaware on the surface what Jasper had done, but in actuality, being quite perceptive to the effects of locking the boy's plastic pants. "Now stay there for a minute and I'll go make the order. You want a soda? I'm about to get one myself." "Sure, whatever." Jasper folded his arms in front of himself. Patrick left Jasper to stew in his sticky, smelly shame for a few minutes and wandered into the kitchen. He dialed the pizza place and made the order, while pouring two cups of cola; he took a medicine bottle from his pocket and began to adulterate one of the cups. "..Yes, a large pepperoni and a large supreme. That'll be for delivery. Thirty minutes? Sounds great, thank you." The teen hung up and carried the cups back into the living room, where Jasper was watching something on the TV. He reached the tainted cup down to the boy's hands, "Here. Pizza will be here in half an hour." "Whatever." Came the kid's disinterested response, his expression betraying how uncomfortable he was to sit in a pile of his own steaming hot excrement. Jasper accepted his cup and took an idle sip, "Can I go now?" Patrick shook his head, "Not just yet. We need to talk, remember?" Jasper let out an exasperated groan, gulping more of the medicine-laced beverage and glaring at his babysitter with complete contempt in his eyes. "Fine. What stupid thing do you want to talk about?" Patrick took a seat across from Jasper and put his cup on the coffee table between them. "Settle down there, killer. I was just thinking that maybe I was too harsh earlier." His charge looked skeptical, but put himself at ease to hear the rest of what had to be said. Patrick continued, knowing how much more these 'kind' words would actually sting. "Just because you're a bedwetter, doesn't necessarily mean I shouldn't trust that you can keep your pants dry during the daytime. I've just had kids that I've babysat that say they only have accidents at night, and then they'll go and pee their pants during the day. They were a *lot* younger than you though; a boy your age should be trusted enough to not need a diaper." Could this truly be a spark of sanity in this crazed sitter? It sounded too good to be true, and while Jasper was happy to hear it, the squish underneath his buttcheeks made him think twice about what would come next. If Patrick was going to let him take off the diaper, then the teen would have to unlock the plastic pants, and if he got close enough to do that, and to see the sorry state of Jasper's dirty diaper... "...Well? You're being awfully quiet, kiddo. Aren't you ready to take those big baby-pants off? You can just slide down your pants and I'll unlock the plastic pants for you..." Shit. Jasper's eyes were bugged out; he was frozen on the couch, stiff as a board. The preteen had been put in a lose-lose scenario. If he went over, then Patrick would surely realize the diaper was full; if he refused, then Patrick would just get suspicious and come check him anyway. "...Right." The decision had been made. Both options were bleak, but at least this way, there was a chance that his babysitter wouldn't notice that he'd fudged his Huggies. The boy carefully got up off the couch and shuffled toward Patrick, he stuck out his hand: "Just give me the key and I can go take all this stuff off." A chuckle passed the teen's lips and he shook his head, "Don't be silly. Might as well take off the plastic pants down here, so I can put them away. Don't really need privacy for *that*, right?" Jasper bit his lip and curled his fingers around the waistband of his pants. "...Sure, fine." He let them drop down to the floor, since he'd have to step out of the plastic pants anyway. It may have just been his paranoid imagination, but Jasper could swear that the foul odor got worse once the board shorts had come down. He looked at his sitter in an attempt to discern if Patrick seemed to notice, but his expression was inscrutable. The larger boy reached down with the key, ready to unlock the plastic pants and free Jasper of this indignity. "I'm glad that you won't be needing this. When I found out you wet the bed, I was afraid I might get stuck changing wet diapers the whole weekend. My last job was like that, except it was a two year old, and he was loading his pants the whole time. Babysitting bigger kids is so much easier..." Patrick's hand was paused in front of the lock while he talked. Could he be doing this *any* slower? As if sensing the preteen's impatience, he unlocked the garment and slid it down Jasper's legs, but not having him step out of them just yet. "...Well, most of the time anyways. But you won't be giving me any trouble, right?" It was a pointed question, and it was suddenly punctuated by the teen using his other hand to give Jasper a playful, 'affectionate' pat on his padded posterior. *SQUISH...* That reactionary noise was all that filled the air, and then a mutual silence befell the room. Jasper knew that the game was over for him; there was nothing else that warm squelch could mean, other than that the youth diaper was now 'occupied'. "...What's *this*, Jasper?" Patrick finally asked, his pat turning into a firm grasp on the squishy seat of the diaper. "...Well? Either you dumped a bowl of oatmeal down here, or..." He was trailing off with the expectation that Jasper would admit what he'd done, but the boy wasn't speaking. Patrick began to knead the poopy diaper more roughly, "...Well, Jasper? What is it? Is there something you want to tell me? Surely you're aware that you have something in the back of your diaper, right?" Still nothing but silence from the beat down bully. "Time's up, Jasper. Let's see what's behind door number two..." Patrick pulled back the waistband, as if he didn't already know what the diaper was weighed down with. "Ding, ding, ding! Number two is what we got here! A truckload of it too." Patrick snapped the waistband back into place and started to lift the plastic pants back up. "I guess I *will* be changing diapers all weekend, and not just wet ones either." "..It was an accident...I couldn't get the stupid locking pants off." The teen shook his head at his charge's bashful defense. "I told you to come get me if you needed to go potty. Instead, you decided to potty in your pants and then you tried to hide it. Either that, or you really just aren't fully pottytrained." He began to lock the plastic pants back into place. "So, since you either didn't notice or didn't seem to mind it, you'll be wearing those icky Pampers until after dinner. You'll also be answering the door and paying for the pizza. Then after your diapee change, then maybe we can start talking about what your *real* punishment is going to be." Jasper heard the click of the lock, sealing in his humiliating fare for the next two days while under the watchful eye of a babysitter with a vendetta.