Tale #112: The Dirty Diaper Details

Tale #112: The Dirty Diaper Details (Part 3 of 'The Dirty Diaper Diary') (Content Tags: Messy diaper, wet diaper, diaper checks, humiliation, reality-alteration, mild diaper sniffing) If Dash had lived up to his name, then maybe he would have stood a chance of escaping this humiliation. That was his thought process anyways, since he was oblivious to the immature tampering that Adam had been engaged with; who could have thought that a diary could hold such power? The very tome that Dash had meticulously chronicled every facet of his life into, and it was now being used to bust his life wide open. That's how he'd retroactively become a diaper boy. That's how he'd retroactively gotten a pair of 'Barney-printed' underoos to lamely plaster over the puffy garment. Neither of those things were a true reflection on who he'd been, but with some ink and malice, Adam had easily made it so. Now his head was full of wrong-feeling memories that were built off a false history. Memories of potty accidents and of being an immature crybaby. Dash was supposed to be witty and cutting, but the confidence that'd made the combo pungent, it was like it had never existed. How could a freshman in diapers be confident? The best case scenario for someone like him was to make himself invisible, not drench his remarks in snark and sass. It was wrong. It was all wrong. And of those very wrong things, the most wrong was what he'd just done in front of his 'Home Economics' class. The steaming mountain of shit that was packed in his Pampers and plastered, in all its sticky imminence, across his ass. Smelly enough to strip paint off the wall, hot enough to set his world on fire, and a large enough amount of it to make him consider whether or not his diaper could hold out. The moment that it had happened, when his bowels had gone fully rogue and evacuated themselves, Dash had felt like he'd been pulled inward. It was like his psyche had been trying to protect him, by making him forget about where he was right now. The jeers and laughter of his peers, most of which were older girls, had been swept away. All that existed was the need to relieve himself, and that was all that he could focus on, at least until the last of the droppings had made their noisy exit into his crinkly babypants. It felt good to let go; there was no denying the relief that he'd felt when he'd gone, but that quickly faded away when his mind returned to the truth. He'd just shit his pants, or rather, his *diaper* in front of his entire class. In front of that stern bitch of a teacher too. In front of a girl he'd had a major crush on. Loudly, explosively, without any hint of subtlety. No way to give him the benefit of the doubt. And yet, his teacher planned to simulate that very doubt, for the sake of the lesson at hand. Diapers on dolls were helpful for practice, but it could never prepare someone for the real thing, and Dash had all but volunteered to make himself into a real-life example of the process. "Now, let's get a few of you up here, and we can talk about how to *check* a diaper, if you have reason to believe it is needed. Different age groups of children mean that different frequencies are needed, but the methods of the check itself never really change." He couldn't let this come to pass. It was time for damage control. "Mrs. Barton, I-I don't think..." "Please be quiet, Mr. Durante. After dirtying yourself in my classroom, I think the least you can do is stay silent while the lesson continues." "B-but that's really not--" He tried to argue, but before he got very far, the teacher was shoving a pacifier in his mouth. A prop from a lesson down the road, quite obviously, but oddly befitting the current situation. "There. Keep that in and no more disruptions, do I make myself clear? This is a high school course, not one for Kindergarten; I won't consider a little boy in a dirty diaper to be a student of mine, so you'll have to settle for being a learning prop." The woman informed him, looking as if she was just daring him to take the pacifier out. It would stay in for now. He didn't have the strength within to argue it, and he couldn't stop the fear that was gripping him. All his confidence and bravado, it was currently simmering in the back of his pants. "Good. Now...Lucy, Polly, Dana, and...Charles. The four of you please come up to the front. Serena, you may take your seat for now." That was a small comfort, that his crush wouldn't be a participant in what was about to happen, though she would still be a spectator. Kind of a moot point, since there was no way she'd ever reciprocate any interest in him now; it was hard already when there had just been an age gap, and now there was more like an 'age' chasm that was wide enough to crash a satellite in. "Lucy, you first. Show me a way that you might check a child's diaper." The brunette approached, having to stifle her amusement at the pitiful boy standing in front of her. Sucking on a pacifier and bowlegged like a cowboy. She went around him and grabbed the back of his short's waistband with her fingers. She looked down at the bulging diaper, clearly able to see how the back had puffed out with the mound he'd made. "Very good, that would just be a 'sight' check. If the diaper looks soiled or wet, then that's a good indicator you need to change it. Thank you, Lucy, you can sit back down. Dana, show us another method." The next girl was a year older than him and not one that he'd been overly familiar with. She looked less amused and more disgusted by what she was being tasked with. "Do I really have to touch him, Mrs. Barton? He's kinda...Gross." She put bluntly, eliciting another round of laughter from the audience. "Babies often are, Dana. That's something you need to overcome quickly when involved in childcare. They drool, their nose runs, they get sick, and they need their diapers checked, even if it's unpleasant. They're too helpless to keep themselves tidy, so it falls on the grown-up to take care of them." Dana sighed, not all that moved by the explanation, but also not about to get a poor grade in an easy elective. She came up to Dash and looked down at him, as if wondering what she should do to check. She decided to go with the path of least resistance, though it *would* mean seeing something she'd really rather not. She walked behind him and braced herself. Like the first girl, she was clipping her fingers onto the boy's waistband, but this time his diaper was also being pinched and pulled out. Dash felt a breeze tickle at the exposed skin, damp from the trapped humidity of wearing a diaper in this heat, and he could suddenly smell his own payload much more clearly. Dana was peering down the back of his diaper, and almost immediately she recoiled, letting it snap back into place and looking sickly. "Uuuggghh! So, so, *SO* gross!" She shrieked, making Dash's face pinken further. The teacher chuckled, " That's another visual check, if the diaper itself doesn't show the soiling very well. Thank you, Dana, you can take your seat now. Polly?" Next up was Polly, a particularly nerdy looking girl with glasses, braces, and a horrendous fashion sense. The only thing missing was the 'kick me' sign on her back! In this one instance, whatever social superiority that Dash had exhibited since grade school with this girl, was completely evaporated. If she was at the bottom of the social ladder, then he was halfway down a pit that was dug behind the ladder. She cackled a little, "Luckily I babysit, just not usually babies this big. Does your mommy need a babysitter, Dashy-poo?" The girl pinched at his cheek for a moment, before smiling smugly. "A lot of kids I babysit are pretty mean when you're trying to check their diaper. Turn into real grumps, especially the older ones." The teacher listened to the anecdote and nodded, "Yes, absolutely. Children, especially as they get older, are all about pushing boundaries. Defiance is a part of the human spirit, even when it's as silly as a diaper change. How do you manage that, Polly?" "Well, if they're older, like Dash here, then my go-to is to ask them. Some kids hate having a poopy diaper, so they'll tell you if they need a change. How about it, Dash? Do you have a poopy diapee?" The boy's cheeks burned red at the question. Of course he did! Everyone already knew that! So why make him go through this submissive charade? He knew she was just trying to push his buttons, and he was letting her. So, he decided to push back: he shook his head 'no'. The teacher chuckled, "Well, that's called a 'verbal' check, but it can also just be called a 'self-reporting' check in this case. It is the easiest, but also the least accurate. Kids will lie, and they'll sometimes not know whether or not they really need a change." Polly shook her head, "Well, since I *heard* something icky earlier, I think I'll still have to check. Some kids just prefer to stay in their smelly diapers. Still, if you're firm with them, you can still have them help you with checking." "Would you like to demonstrate that?" "Sure!" She cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips, "I think you have a stinky diaper, Dash! Turn around and show me your booty; I need to check if you're dirty." It was like she was talking to a two year old, and for teaching purposes, she pretty much was. His first instinct was to not play along, just like before, but her tone had him a little shaken. Why was he so fragile right now? So weak? Between Polly staring him down and his teacher's leer, Dash didn't think he could disobey. Sheepishly, he started to turn around. What else could he do? He was way past the point of running, not that there was anywhere to run off too. "Now, keep your hands out of the way and stick out your tushy for me." She commanded, to which he internally groaned and obeyed, widening his stance slightly and jutting out his butt for inspection. She came over and suddenly yanked his shorts down to his ankles, which showed the smiling visage of Barney, since his infantile briefs were acting as a poor-man's diaper cover. "Cute undies. Guess you're not quite ready for them, huh? That's okay, I know dress-up is fun." She cooed at him, reaching over to pull those down as well. His lumpy seat was now on full display, with emphasis on the 'full' part. The back paneling was still a virgin white, but the leg-guards showed some hints of a muddy brown from the vastness of his dirty deposits. If Lucy had already checked the diaper's condition by sight, and Dana had pulled back the waistband, then what was possibly left? Dash got his answer when she put a hand on his shoulder and he suddenly felt the huge load getting firmly grasped and groped by her other hand. In no uncertain terms, the teen had grabbed his ass, which he would have been flattered by, if not for the steaming pile being flattened and spread by her vicious grip. It was such a surprise and a show of dominance, that warmth suddenly began to flow across the front of his diaper. Rapidly his bladder was letting a lake fill and pool up in the puffy garment, the absorption delayed by the strength of his flow. Once the garment actually began to take it in and wick it away, the front swelled and stained. Just another shame to add to the tally: pissing his pants while getting his poopy butt squished by a loser. Dash bit down on the pacifier, squirming noticeably and quietly whining as the girl kneaded his mushy tushy, as if playing with dough. "Oh, I'm pretty sure that's a big icky uh-oh! You must not have realized you did it; that's normal for a *baby*. What about the *front*? Did you do a big tinkle too?" Polly let go of his behind, but kept him in place and instead grabbed the soggy front with her hand from underneath. Giving his diapered crotch a few gentle squeezes, she clicked her tongue. "Still really warm. You must have *just* tee-teed for me." Polly stood all the way back up and smiled at the demonstration she'd provided. The teacher looked impressed too, seeming to gloss over how denigrating the teen had intentionally been to her own classmate. "Wonderful job, Polly! Yes, class, as you can see, there is also the 'tactile' method. When a diaper is wet, it gets warm and squishy from those polymers absorbing the urine into the material. When dirty, the backside will be squishy or mushy, and also warm. Thank you, Polly. That just leaves you: Charles." One of the only other males in the class, and only taking it because he wanted an easy grade where he could pick up chicks. Things hadn't panned out the way he planned it, but it was too late in the semester already to change course (or courses, rather). "Uhh, I don't really know what other way there is, Mrs. Barton. I mean, other than just pulling his diaper all the way down." That got another bunch of snickers and whispers; Dash felt panicked at the thought. Just baring his shit-caked buttcheeks to the whole class? Or possibly worse, his similarly 'immature' front. Luckily, the teacher shook her head at the suggestion. "Maybe with a Pull-Up, but that might just make a big mess to clean up witu a diaper. Think, Charles, use your senses. We all *heard* the accident already, we have *seen* the accident, and we have *felt* the diaper. What's left?" The jock seemed to struggle with that one. Dash could see the older teen counting on his fingers, likely recounting the 'five' senses. Finally, he looked to get the picture. "...Ugh, do I really need to do that?" The woman looked amused by the well-deserved hesitation. "Yes, Charles. Many times, if a child is dressed in something complex, then it'll be an easy way to avoid extra hassle." "Fine, fine...Guess we don't want to risk the runt getting a rash." Charles grunted, coming up behind Dash and suddenly lifting him up by his armpits, as if the freshman was just a little kid. The older teen grimaced, but lifted Dash high enough to get a close whiff of his sagging seat. Honestly, the scene was humiliating for the both of them, since of all the checking methods, this was arguably the most self-deprecating for the checker. To make that worse, Dash's tummy hadn't been prepared for the jarring lift that had rocketed him up. There was a brief gurgling, and then he felt a big fart slip past his cheeks; it thundered and sputtered, right as Charles had brought his nose up. Before Charles could react by turning his head away, a large steamer had been propelled by the gas like a missle; Dash's diaper bulged back out and the dirty diaper was suddenly mushing itself against the jock's nose. The class erupted in mirth, the jock erupted in fury, and Dash erupted out the back. Charles quickly brought his head back and gagged, "Ugh, sick! You did that on purpose, you little twerp!" The teacher chuckled, "Calm down, Charles. Babies can't help it, that's just what they do. Thank you for demonstrating the last method, though: Smell. If the child is bundled up, or if it would be a hassle to strip them, then a smell check will often suffice." Charles dropped Dash, who 'luckily' fell on his squishy bottom with a sickening squelch from the fresh load getting mashed flat. "Oops, guess babies *don't* bounce." "Thank you, Charles. You can sit back down. Now that we've determined that the child is in need of a change, next we'll be doing just that! Can I get a student to run down to the SPED classroom to get a fresh diaper for our 'learning model' here?"