Story #62: Secrets Sunken in the Swamp

Story #62: Secrets Sunken in the Swamp (A sequel to 'Pin-Cushioned') (Content Tags: Ongoing story, dirty diaper, messy undies, bedwetting, supernatural antagonism, voodoo, obsessive antagonist) Remy hadn't been able to get the scene out of his head. That cute little blush, that smug grin turned sheepish and panicked, the feeling of that mushy seat squishing against his forceful grip... He'd replayed it a thousand times since he'd left the park's bathroom, when he'd left Jean Baptiste to his newfound dirty diaper. Diapers had always been an interest, though not for himself to wear. He'd always been more interested in the thought of another boy being made to wear them, which is partially responsible for what had drawn him to Jean in the first place. Seeing that moment in the grocery store, all those years ago, it'd fueled his obsession with the boy. That made up half the equation, the other half being a genuine affection for how cute he was. Was it truly a romantic desire? Or was it an infatuation that was driven by the thought of putting his little butt back in diapers? Perhaps a part of him had wanted to be rejected, if only to give him an excuse to turn to voodoo instead. In a real relationship, there had to be trust and respect; the odds that Jean would have been receptive to Remy's wants were slim, but in the case of revenge, the boy had no choice but to become what Remy wanted. If Remy was willing to be more honest with himself, then perhaps this introspection would have stopped him from fashioning the doll in the first place. There was no place in his plan for looking inward though, his heart ached from scorned advances and his mind urged him to act on his most base impulses. After all these years of listless daydreams and dark fantasies, he'd brought them into the realm of reality, and he had no desire to put them back in the world of make believe. No, going this far meant that it only made sense to keep going and to not look back. He looked at the doll between his hands, its hair belonging to the real article, and part of its patchwork stitched together from fabrics he'd stolen from Jean over the years. At some point, it'd reverted back to wearing briefs, instead of the full diaper he'd last seen around its waist. A little strange that the doll *only* had briefs on, but he figured Jean must have just cleaned up, and was now just lounging in his room. Remy considered taking underpants off the table completely for his cher, but he wasn't quite there yet on it. It wouldn't be difficult to bind a garment to the doll, but it didn't seem necessary yet. What he really needed was a way to get a better look at what was going on with the boy. The doll shifted and changed to match Jean's appearance, but that wasn't enough information to go on by itself. What he needed was some sort of remote vision, a scrying ball or something. That was a little out of his wheelhouse, he'd have to do more research before he could figure something out. There were tomes he could consult about it, or maybe he could even go and speak with someone else he knew that was experienced with the loa. For now, he picked up a vial of bayou mud and scooped some out with a little utensil; it was good to keep the pressure up on Jean, to make sure his beloved didn't get too comfortable. Even if he couldn't see it happen for himself right now, he could at least sit well with the knowledge that his influence was absolute. He pulled back the waistband of the doll's underoos and shoveled in some of the mud. Wherever Jean Baptiste was right now, Remy knew the boy was soiling himself profusely. The boy grinned and set the doll aside, allowing himself to daydream about how Jean must feel right now, with a steaming load in his britches. "Humiliating, isn't it, *mon ami*? Taken back down memory lane? Just for bedwetting back then, eh? I think we both know you were lying about that...Those Pampers were for so much more." He mewled affectionately at the doll. Remy smiled and placed the doll back down on his desk and prepared to make a trip out into the bayou. It was easy to think that the obsessive boy was simply denying reality. Bedwetting at that age, in second grade, made the most sense, did it not? But Remy wasn't just fixating on making more out of what it really was. He wasn't trying to turn a molehill into a mountain. No, when Jean had told him that the diapers had been for nighttime problems, Remy had been able to see it in his face that he was lying. The eyes were a window to the soul, and Remy had looked right through those sparkling blue pools to determine what was and wasn't true. Whether Jean would be forthcoming about it or not, there was something else to his crush's past. Maybe it was nothing? If not bedwetting, then perhaps just late pottytraining? Second grade and still mastering the potty, that would be worth lying about. Remy couldn't be so sure about it, but his instincts told him that the truth of the matter was something that would not only unravel a years-long curiosity, but also pull Jean apart at the threads. Not even the murky waters of the swamp could hide a secret forever, no matter how far down it had sunk. All truths must eventually float on up to the surface and be accounted for, even those as petty as them Pampers. Meanwhile, Jean Baptiste was back at home. After the confusion on the field, and in the park bathroom, he'd made a direct pedal back to his house to make some sense of things. Riding a bike in a filthy diaper was something that he would never have guessed he'd be doing, and after how gross and squishy it'd been, he was hoping it wouldn't come up ever again. His parents were luckily still at work, and his little sister had been preoccupied with whatever tripe she was watching on TV, so he'd made a beeline for his bedroom, leaving a trail of fumes in his wake. The boy had stripped down to just the dirty diaper and now that he was alone, he could finally get a good look at it. The garment felt totally foreign to his current sensibilities; it wasn't a shame he'd had to endure for quite some time now, and the feel of a mucky bottom was also something he'd willfully forgotten over the years. To feel this way again, to relive such things, it made him feel just as small as he was back then. The real question here though, ignoring the pulling of the past, was where the hell it had come from! Jean traced the events of the afternoon carefully: he'd gone to play a soccer game at the park, he'd had an exceedingly poor time of it for some reason, he'd messed himself in front of everyone, and then once he'd gone to the bathroom, his soiled briefs had turned to...This. There was no rational explanation for it, and the following accident that he'd had in the puffy garment couldn't be explained either. This was no nightmare or illusion, so there must be something more supernatural at work. Regardless of the source, the first step was to get cleaned up! Jean went into his bathroom and gingerly removed the tapes on the diaper, allowing the heavy thing to drop to the floor with a squishy thud. The next twenty minutes were full of him tidying himself up and taking a shower once he'd given up on wiping away the minutiae. He dried off and carefully balled the smelly diaper up, wondering exactly how he was going to rid himself of it in a discreet manner. For now, it would remain in his bathroom trash, stinking up the place. Tomorrow was thankfully garbage day, and he'd be the last to leave the house, so he'd have to toss it out then. He pulled on a fresh pair of briefs, playfully thinking he was glad he hadn't worn his lucky pair to the game this time, since the pair he *did* wear were just totally gone. "Now to do damage control...There weren't *that* many people at the game, and nobody got that close to me, except..." Remy. How had he already forgotten the other oddity about his afternoon? The weirdo had even squeezed his ass, even if only to get a handful of lumpy Pamper-butt. The freak had said something about seeing him in second grade at the grocery store, but Jean Baptiste had been so flustered, that'd he almost blanked it out. "..Said he saw mom buying me Pampers. That's what he said. What did I tell him..I couldn't have told him everything, but I must have said *something*..." Jean's head was spinning, had he denied it or lied? That whole part of the encounter was a blur! The only distinctive part of it had been him totally crapping himself in front of the dork and then getting physically harassed. Could Remy have something to do with all this? Or was it just a really strange coincidence? It felt more likely that the two events were completely unconnected, and that he was only conflating them because they'd intersected in just that moment. Then again, why would Remy have even been there at the game? He didn't have any siblings playing, and Jean was pretty sure that none of the players were friends with the swamp rat. So it came to reason that Remy must have been there simply to watch *him*. Was that because of his crush, or because he was somehow involved in all this? Before Jean could deduce anything else, he instead felt himself dropping a deuce instead, right into the back of his fresh underpants. The fabric stretched out with the heavy lump, and Jean froze up from the distinct lack of warning. This might prove to be a larger problem than he anticipated. Damage control would have to start with another shameful trek to the bathroom, and his trashcan was about to get another odorous occupant. Remy didn't get back from his expedition until late into the evening. He'd given a cheery greeting to his grandmother and then had gone back up to his room to check on the doll. He put a crystal on the desk next to it and began to rifle through his extensive collection of trinkets and ingredients. "Just you wait, cher. I'll have a window into your life soon enough. A shame I never thought of it before! But eh, *c'est la vie*! As they say, necessity is the mother of invention." Remy began to pour some different herbs and powders into a small glass jar, he then got up and went to open a special box in his closet. Inside were all the things he'd gotten from Jean over the years: paper he'd written on, gum he'd chewed, clothes he'd worn, and other such trophies. Outside of voodoo, this would be plain creepy and obsessive...Hell, even *for* voodoo, this was a bit much. Remy was too close to see that though, and he retrieved an envelope that had some of his photographs inside. "Hm, yearbook or picture day...Let's go with picture day! You were dressed up so nicely, must've been your mama makin' sure of that." Remy chuckled, taking the small glossy photo out and pinching it between two fingers. He walked back to his desk and placed the photo on the crystal. "Now we'll just have to see if any loa are willing to bite!" His teacher had already warned him that this could be a lengthy process for a spirit to take the bait and become a willing window to his target, so he wouldn't be holding his breath on it. "Now...Why don't we look at that little fib, eh?" Remy pulled the red needle from his satchel and rested the tip of it against the doll, which was now wearing a tank top and some boxers, which Remy figured was Jean's idea of jammies. . He took a little squirt bottle and gave the front of the boxers a hearty spray, before piercing the doll gently in the bladder with the might of the red skull. "You want to say you were a bedwetter, so why don't we make an honest boy out of you?" The next morning would prove difficult for the bewitched boy: waking up in a wet bed, having to still smuggle a dirty diaper and poopy undies out of the house, and all before school! And that'd be assuming that Remy didn't pull any more shenanigans during that time! Remy could hardly wait for the weekend to be over, something he never would have imagined thinking.