Tale #110: Lesson the Load 2

Tale #110: Lesson the Load (Part 2) Content Tags: (Reality warping, surrealist horror, messy diapers, light hypermess, humiliation, age regression, mental regression, bad ending) The shame he'd felt as a kid had been severe, and now he got the misfortune of being forced to live through it, over and over. The present began to reflect the past, but things were so very jumbled; his adulthood and childhood were swirled together into a paradoxical stew. It was dreamlike at its core, but so much more vivid than any dream he'd ever had. There wasn't anything normal about a kid being expected to be the teacher for children barely his junior; hell, there was nothing normal about a kid being considered a professional educator at all! There was also nothing normal about crapping his pants, wearing trainers, or regressing in the first place. But life didn't stop to evaluate the continuity errors that his existence had become. Nobody acted like Ben was an unreasonable farce of a man, or boy by this point. It was only more glaringly obvious when his supposed colleague forced him into a diaper change. There he was, legs up and rump smothered in failure; he was getting cleaned and powdered, and all throughout the teacher was talking to him about some of his students being troublesome. Literally in the most compromising and degrading position, and she wanted to casually talk about work. People didn't treat him the same as before, but they also didn't treat him how any rational person should. He'd lost twenty years in a matter of weeks, but it was really as if those years had never existed; it was certainly more difficult to recall his adult memories with the proper clarity. She finished taping the diaper onto Ben and gave the front a gentle pat. "There...I'll give it a check during lunch. Try to control yourself?" Ben would find himself back out in the hall, feeling confused and unsettled. His psyche was finally fighting back, instead of his brain just forcing itself to ignore the panic he should be feeling. Unfortunately, he still couldn't stop himself from heading back to his class. He knew he should run as far away from the school as possible. The thing that was feasting on his age, on his shame, it lurked these halls in the flesh of a student. If Ben got away, then maybe he'd eventually regain what he'd lost? He'd never seen the 'student' outside of the school, so it tracked that it was bound to this location, right? His footsteps weren't toward the exit. Aware of the irrationality of it, Ben was walking back to his classroom, as if he too were bound here. Each foot forward was punctuated by the crinkling underneath his slacks, by the evidence of how wrong things had become in such a short time. His mind became more petty in grievances, as he started to wonder how he'd hide the noise from his students. He was still going to teach, against all reason and sanity. That was his job after all, to sculpt the minds of the future! Wasn't it? Things were beginning to become hazy in his noggin. It seemed that the more he thought about his predicament, the more his brain rejected the thought patterns and substituted things that were far more mundane. His reality was following a script, and he was pissing off the director by trying to deviate. Back into his empty classroom he went, but by the look of the clock, it wouldn't be empty for long. The smell of his soiled Pull-Up had at least faded, but how long would it be until his newfound diaper met a similar fate? He'd pooped himself without any measure of control in the Kindergarten bathroom, so why would he expect to be better off now? It almost made him a little glad that his padding had been replaced with something more defensive; bad enough to mess himself without the worry that it might smear its way into his slacks too! This diaper, cumbersome as it was, felt much better suited to the task of holding his stinkies. Ben got out a piece of chalk and began to write on the board in preparation for the lesson he'd cooked up for today. He didn't realize it yet, but his sentences were rife with spelling errors and grammatical issues. He might have felt the same, but his intellect was shrinking to better suit his diminutive age; it wasn't yet at a one-to-one ratio, as the pace was completely different, but his education levels were definitely slipping away from him. He hadn't been a 'stupid' kid, but he hadn't been an academically interested one either; he'd been a lousy student in elementary school, and hadn't gotten more serious until he'd had no choice. He couldn't yet see the relevance of that, but it'd become more pertinent when he became 'dumber' than the very students he was here to teach. "Why were you such an anxious kid?" The voice rattled in his brain as it echoed from behind him; flashes of the past bubbled to the surface, but they didn't get a chance to fully emerge from the murky waters of his memories. The bell rang and the malevolent presence faded; turning around and there was nobody else in the room with him. Nobody but him and his own paranoia. The familiar faces of his students began to drift into the class; chipper third graders that were completely oblivious to the fact that their teacher was even closer to their age than yesterday. Ben sat at his desk, still self-conscious about his padded state, and quietly watched while the class filled up. The bell rang again, signifying the start of classes, but Ben waited a few moments to let his kids have their morning chatter. Truth be told, he was very nervous about teaching like this. He felt vulnerable, and also far less capable than usual. Ben might have been an adult on a technical level, but he was sporting the body of a fourth grader, and the underwear choice of a toddler. How could he possibly feel confident? He'd been changed out of a poopy Pull-Up just before this! It put him on such a disfavored ground in comparison to these kids, who none of which had likely pooed in their pants for years. He was beginning to mentally adjust to the age he'd been given. It'd similarly happened with every shift, but it'd felt less noticeable as the maturity gradient hadn't so steeply dipped with each dissolving year. The drop to this age had levied a far greater impact to him. His stature, his intellect, his maturity, his confidence, it was all regressing and degrading into childlike. Finally, he gathered his courage and stood up. "Good morning, class. Today, to start, we'll be learning more about multiplication and division." He heard groans and gave a half-hearted smile, finding that to be a welcoming familiarity to find in the midst of this existential crisis. Nothing was normal with him, but at least the students seemed the same as ever. Things would go well for a while. His math lesson would shift into worksheets, and then he'd transition into language with a spelling quiz. It was a strikingly average morning in his classroom, though an unnerving one with what rustled beneath his slacks. It was also a little unsettling that some of these third graders were around the same size as him now. It was subtle, but he could sense the lack of respect that came with that. Kids these small respected authority pretty blindly, but that primitive instinct about 'might making right' was present; how could someone smaller than you, or the same size as you, be the boss of you? The last subject before lunch would be science, and he planned to discuss the three states of matter. Being so close to the break, he'd also started the period of denying trips to the bathroom for his students: "You're a big kid, you can hold it until lunch. It's only thirty minutes away." The same policy would have to go for him as well. Ben had felt tingling in his bladder and bowels, but felt as though he could hold it. He may be in a diaper, but he was thinking what happened before must have been some fluke, because he felt totally in control here. Doubts still quietly pervaded in the very back of his mind, where memories of a false reality bubbled, but they were deeply veiled by delusions of normalcy. "So, there are three states of matter. First, is the l-liquid.." He stammered at the end, standing there in front of the board. A warmth had surged in the front of his diaper, and he'd immediately identified it as a clear sign he was wetting himself. It felt as though all his bravado was draining out of him and seeping into the thick padding of his babypants; the absorbent material swelled from the sudden tide, sagging and pressing into his thighs with its warmth. Ben looked like a nervous wreck, just silently standing there with bugged out eyes and an open mouth as he urinated on himself for a good fifteen seconds. The children at their desks looked mostly confused, though a few cracked smug grins; the more 'toddler' savvy were familiar with that look, since to them, it wasn't the first time they'd seen it. Anyone with a little sibling at home knew the potty accident expression. "I-I uhh, so, y-yes... Liquid! Like water, or milk. Can anyone name some liquids?" One kid raised their hand immediately, and Ben called on them without realizing the mischievous smile on their face. "Like pee?" Much of the class laughed at the immature answer and Ben felt his face get hot. Did this kid know, or was he just being juvenile? It couldn't be that obvious that he'd tinkled in his Pampers, could it? "S-Settle down, class... That's not appropriate. Let's leave the potty talk to the Kindergarten class, okay?" Ben scolded, writing out some examples of liquids on the board, though excluding the example given by his student. "Now, the next state of matter is gas. A good example of this would be--" His explanation got cut short, as the slight pressure in his bowels became an unstoppable force in the blink of an eye. BRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPP! PRRFFFFTTT! The loud fart not only took him by surprise, but it gave his students quite the shock too. It was powerful and a little wet sounding, and it lasted a solid ten seconds, which was extremely impressive in an immature sort of way. Ben could feel the flatulence slapping against his wet diaper, sputtering and rasping like a motorboat. The class again lost it, though this time purely at their teacher's expense. It was all too perfect that his example of gas had become an impromptu toot. Flatulence was already a teacher's worst nightmare, since it permanently impacted the respect one would get from their class, but this felt more damaging than what would be typical. "Excuse m-me, that was r-rude..." Ben muttered, looking humiliated. His eyes caught a glance at the clock. Not long until lunch, which would give him some time for the kids to settle back down about the huge fart. "Let's just finish up with the third state of matter... Everything that isn't a liquid or a gas, is considered a solid." He again turned to write examples on the board, "So that means, a solid could be something like..." That cramp returned, backed by an immeasurable pressure. There was no holding it back, that wasn't even an option. The only thing his body would allow, the only action, was to start mindlessly pushing. A gross crackling sound came from his backside, and he could feel something truly immense starting to push past his buttcheeks. No control, no option to stop it, just forced to stand there and unleash everything that was knocking at the backdoor. The python was rock-solid and unwavering in its slithering escape from his bowels; the pole made landfall with his diaper and began to push the material outward. His slacks weren't taut enough to compress the load; the baggy way he wore them actually meant that the slacks began to tent out in the back as well, like he was growing a tail. It was all happening so fast that the kids hardly had the time to register what was happening; their teacher ripping a huge fart was hilarious, but their teacher pooing himself? That was on a whole different level! There were gasps and guffaws, and everyone's eyes were all fixed on the same absurd sight that Ben was uncontrollably producing. Few kids had ever seen an accident of this magnitude, and none had ever seen it from a teacher, who was supposed to be a paragon of maturity and wisdom to look up to.