Story #135: Pre-Stream Problems

Story #135: Pre-Stream Problems (Part 5 of 'The Poo-Poo Doll' storyline) (Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, supernatural elements, mushbrained antagonist, diaper sniffing, ongoing story) The long walk home, as the sun was setting, had given Pascal a lot of time to think. Every bumbling step down the road was met by the rustling of the diaper he was wearing, and he could feel the heavy-duty garment rubbing against his thighs each time. It was hard to believe that someone as uncoordinated as Renard could maneuver in something so cumbersome. It was even more shocking when Pascal considered that his diaper was clean right now, while Renard's was very often not. It was late enough into the day that there weren't many people around, so he could take some solace that his awkward waddling wasn't being watched. He couldn't imagine the humiliation he would feel if people saw him like this; more than just that, he couldn't imagine how awful it would be if hadn't been given these shorts to cover up with. He knew that he still looked ridiculous, wearing a Cookie Monster shirt and these vibrant shorts that did little to conceal the bulk of the diaper, but it was better than the alternative. He still felt mortified that he'd even been put into this situation; his stomach still didn't feel quite right from the tall glass of milk that he'd been forced to drink at dinner, and he suspected that the explosive diarrhea that had resulted would remain in effect for the rest of the evening. It was so unfair, all of it. Sure he'd snapped and said some mean things, but if anyone was the real victim here, it was him! Renard had been nonstop harassing him, and in ways that'd become increasingly creepy over time. It was extremely uncomfortable, and somehow it was Pascal that was the bad guy here! The absurdity of it was appalling. After this tutoring session that he'd just left, if it could even be called that, things could only get worse from here. Befouling himself in his briefs and then again in one of Renard's diapers; that wasn't something that the mushbrain would soon forget, and he probably wouldn't be able to shut up about it in their next class. Pascal would obviously deny it, and people probably wouldn't take Renard's word very seriously, but it still felt like a precarious position to find himself in. This was how rumors got started, and with Renard continuing to be inappropriate toward him, they would likely fly quickly. After Renard had so excitedly stuck his nose in the back of Pascal's filthy diaper, that was one of the things that Pascal really hoped he wouldn't talk about. It was so disgusting, and even though he hadn't been the seat-sniffer, he still felt gross to even be the recipient of the huffing. As he crept closer to his own house, the boy's steps began to slow down. He hadn't thought much about this part, where he'd come to the end of his journey, but it was now dawning on him that he had no plan in place for arriving home while dressed like he just left daycare. He'd been so torn up from his thoughts about the tutoring session, that he hadn't considered what would happen when he got back from it. The blocks between his neighborhood and Renard's house weren't exactly good to find a hiding place to strip off the diaper, and even if he felt so bold, he'd then have run the risk of his tummy having more issues the rest of the walk home. Now he was but another minute from the front door, and he was reeling. Pascal knew that he could just try being honest, but even as the victim, he felt embarrassed and somehow culpable. Why didn't he make a run for it, when things had gone as far as they did? Why was he such a coward? If he was being harassed by anyone else, then none of this would be a problem. The boy took a deep breath and made his way up the walkway to his house. If they saw him, then he'd explain things the best be could, but if he could just slip by, then that'd be ideal. With any luck, his parents would be preoccupied and his siblings would be in their rooms. He took out his house key and slowly turned it in the door, before then gingerly opening it and reeling at the light squeaking of the hinges. Pascal stepped into the house and slowly shut the door behind himself; so far, so good. Now he just needed to head for the stairs and he'd be in the clear. Pascal could hear the television on in the living room, which he suspected was where his parents were. The stairs connected to the living room, but if he was really quiet, then it shouldn't be a problem. The boy tiptoed tenderly across the carpet on his socked feet and he could see the back of his parent's heads, from where they were seated together on the couch. Up the stairs he went, taking each step as softly as he was able, though his diaper wasn't as easy to control the volume on. When he'd gotten halfway, he stepped on some LEGOS that'd been left haphazardly by his brother and he let out a little squeak of pain. Crap! "..Pascal, sweetie? Is that you?" He heard his mother call from the couch. The boy gulped, "Yeah, mom! I just got home, but I gotta go get ready for my stream!" That wasn't entirely a lie. His little tutoring session had gone on much longer than he'd anticipated, and now he was running behind on time for the stream that he had scheduled. "Oh, okay. Did you have fun? Do you still need to eat dinner?" Her questions came from a sincere place and Pascal knew that, but the real answers to them were more complicated than he wanted to get into right now or perhaps ever. "Yeah, mom! I had dinner over there!" Thinking that would satisfy his parents, he continued on up the stairs, making a mental note to chew out his little brother about leaving his toys strewn around. It was even more egregious, because the younger boy's bedroom was downstairs, and there were already LEGOS in the playroom upstairs! There was no reason for them to be left so precariously on the steps of the stairs! That would have to wait though, since he was still in the danger zone here. His bedroom was at the end of the hall, and he had two other siblings up here to worry about. Altogether, he had three siblings: a younger brother who was four, a younger sister who was eight, and an older brother who was thirteen. The LEGO-leaving preschooler was Calvin, and while annoying, he was relatively harmless. Coincidentally, Pascal was sure that Calvin probably owned this same Cookie Monster shirt in a smaller size; additionally, their 'crunchy' parents were big on child-led whatever, so Calvin also shared being in a diaper, though he'd been signaling interest in using the toilet instead. His younger sister, Curie, he had a more adversarial relationship with than what he had with Calvin. While Calvin was a brat in an entirely expected 'little kid' kind of way, Curie was a brat in a 'borderline bully' kind of way. She was bossy, loud, and she loved to pick fights over petty nonsense. Luckily, she was usually content to just pick on Calvin, with her occasionally trying to start something with Pascal. Finally, there was his older brother, Voltaire. While he was the oldest, he'd never had much interest in managing that responsibility over his younger siblings. If he could help it, he didn't want much to do with them at all. When his disinterest was challenged, usually by their parents, he would just come across as annoyed. With Pascal being the second oldest, he was also the one that Voltaire would usually mess with, if he felt the need. Neither Marie or Voltaire liked that Pascal had a modicum of fame either, which further strained those relationships. Marie was a narcissistic, jealous diva about it; Voltaire seemed more concerned that his little brother was going to embarrass him by doing something stupid on the internet. Then there was Calvin, who only barely grasped what Pascal was doing, but thought it was cool and wanted to involve himself wherever he could try. With family like that, it was needless to say that it wouldn't be good if he got caught before he reached his bedroom. From his position at the start of the hall, he could already see three of the doors in the hall were open: the playroom, the bathroom, and Marie's room. Pascal considered just running for it. His room was at the end of the hall, but he could get there pretty quickly if he just bolted. On the other hand, that would have consequences too; his stomach still didn't feel right for one, and he wasn't the most coordinated right now in an unfamiliar garb, not to mention that running would draw attention to him. So he power-walked the secure parts, and then when it came time to pass by the playroom, he poked his head inside to see if anyone was in there. Calvin was sitting and building stuff, wearing just a diaper and a grin; luckily, the tyke wasn't facing the open doorway, so Pascal was able to easily slip by undetected. Next was the bathroom, which wasn't lit and obviously wasn't currently occupied by anyone. The final obstacle was Marie's room, and then he'd be in the clear! He again poked his head in the doorway, just to peek at what the girl was currently up to. She was playing with her Barbies, pretending as if they were talking to eachother while she moved them around the 'dreamhouse' set she owned. Perfect! He slipped by and felt a huge weight come off his chest. With renewed confidence, he continued his path to the end of the hall. Then he got blindsided by a door opening in front of him and his older brother coming out with his smart phone in front of him. Pascal froze, and that was his mistake. If he'd continued walking, then Voltaire probably wouldn't have made note of him, since his eyes were focused on the glowing screen of what was likely an inane TikTok video. But since he abruptly stopped, Pascal became an obstacle in the hall. "Oh, hey Paci. Get out of the-- what the hell are you wearing?" It barely registered to Pascal to spite the nickname that'd haunted him from childhood, and that was because it was obviously registering on Voltaire's face what his little brother was clad in. "Is that Cookie Monster? It's just like the one that Calvin wears." The older boy was first focused on the blue shirt, but he'd spot the vibrant shorts from the corner of his eye. "Why do you look like a daycare threw up on you?" Pascal gulped, feeling significantly more self-conscious of the plush padding squeezed between his pale thighs. "Uhh..." "Seriously, are those even your clothes? I thought you just had to go tutor that retard kid, not dress like him!" Voltaire started to laugh at his own joke, not yet aware how little of a joke it actually was. "N-no, look, this is just...it's just..." Voltaire furrowed his brow, suddenly looking more serious. "This better not be some crap for your channel. Bad enough that you stream your cringe online, but you can at least pretend to be cool." "No! I just fell in some mud and had to borrow some clothes! I wouldn't put this crud on if I had a choice!" Some of that was at least the truth, though the supposed 'mud' had really been his milk-induced mudslide, which had ruined his clothes in the worst way. "You're such a klutz. Well, go take that crap off, before someone mistakes you for Calvin." The young teen teased, giving his little brother a noogie on his noggin. Voltaire continued walking, looking back at his phone and shaking his head with a snicker. At the very least, it didn't appear that he'd recognized the worst part about his little brother's ridiculous ensemble, or else he would have surely targeted it with extreme prejudice. Pascal let out a sigh of relief and started moving again too, getting nearly to his door before he heard another voice from behind. "Hey! What were you guys talking about? I wanna know!" His older brother wasn't a quiet speaker bu nature, and they hadn't been that far from Marie's open door. This was a chain of events that he should have foreseen, but he'd really only been thinking about the present. He turned his head and arrived at his door, his hand already reaching for the knob. "It's not important, don't worry about it." He recognized that saying that was a mistake as soon as it passed his lips. Marie was nosy and she hated to be brushed off; Pascal would have been better making up a quick lie. The little girl scowled and started to stomp over toward him, "I wanna know! I'll tattle if you don't tell me!" The last thing he needed was to get their parents involved; he needed to resolve things here and now. "Fine, fine, we were just talking about... baseball." "You were not! You big fat liar! You were talking about Calvin and something about clothes! I heard you!" Yet another loudmouth in the family; Pascal was truly the black sheep of the children to know what an 'inside voice' was. "Fine! Just be quiet! He was just making fun of my shirt." Pascal finally turned to fully face her and presented the infantile shirt to her. "Cookie Monster? That's a baby shirt!" She giggled at the sight. "Yeah, yeah. I had to borrow it because my shirt got dirty. Satisfied?" He grumbled, folding his arms to cover the visage of the Sesame Street character. "That's really funny. Your shorts kinda look babyish too." The girl added. Pascal rolled his eyes and turned back around to finally open his door and go into his room. In doing so though, he made his padded rump the focus of Marie's line of sight. "Why is your butt so big?" There was a pause for both of them. Pascal felt his heart drop at the question, and the wheels turned in Marie's head as she realized what the sight reminded her of. It was the shape of a diaper-butt beneath non-baggy shorts, which she'd seen on Calvin a ton of times! It all lined up and she let out a loud gasp. **"ARE YOU WEARING A DIAPER?!"** If Calvin hadn't heard his siblings talking earlier, then he would definitely at least hear *that*. Heck, if Voltaire was anywhere near the stairs still on the ground floor, then he'd hear it too! Her loud inquiry made Pascal grit his teeth. He popped the door to his room, since he'd already been in motion to do so, but he swiftly turned around to stop giving her a look at the obvious. Unfortunately, the front of his shorts looked rather puffy too. "W-what?! No!" "Yuh-huh! You so are! Like a baby!" She accused, pointing her finger down at the bulk. "You're wearing a diapee, just like baby Calvin! I'm telling!" While Pascal was to deal with the consequences of his sister calling him out, which would soon be worsened by the arrival of his baby brother and the still upset nature of his bowels, something else was cooking back at the house he'd earlier waddled out of. Renard was pleased as punch about how the tutoring session had gone; he'd gotten a lot more out of it then he could have ever hoped for. He'd gotten Pascal to touch his wet and messy diaper on two different occasions, he'd seen Pascal load his pants *twice* with one of those times being in one of Renard's diapers! Most pleasing of all was getting to snoof and huff the back of his idol's diaper as it was violently filled. The perfect cap to the day was what Pascal had left behind for him. His mother had changed Pascal's poopy diaper in the bathroom, and so the balled up garment had been disposed of in the pail that held his many swim diapers. Fortunately, she also didn't strongly supervise Renard, so it'd been little issue to sneak the diaper to his room. He'd gotten a change of his own, but after such a huge dinner, he wouldn't have to deal with the unexciting blandness that was a clean diaper for very long. Already he was tooting in it and rubbing the back of the plastic-backed garment with a mentally vacant fervor. With Pascal's loaded diaper before him, which he would be using to complete the 'poo-poo doll', he needed to show some respect by making a big mudpie of his own. "Pasci gonna be poo-poo tardee boyfriend." The twisted lad grinned, drool trailing from his slackened lips. "Hrrrnggghhh...!" A fart wildly sputtered into his seat and he felt the diaper warm with his hand firmly planted back there. Feeling the need for inspiration, he grabbed the dirtied diaper in front of him and brought the stinky, hefty thing up to his nose to sniff the fumes deeply and greedily. That seemed to do the trick, like smelling salts, because he immediately began to unleash a massive coil of poop into his pants. He lifted his butt off the ground and took another noisy huff of the garment, which directly led to more foul flatulence gurgling in his diaper and a more expedient descent of the gargantuan steamer he was squeezing out. He grunted and slobbered some more, having to push the last of it out with more strain than what would be involved if he let the load drop organically, instead of forcing his diaper to become dirty for the sake of his retarded ritual. Renard lowered his butt back to the ground and felt the load get mashed flat across his buttcheeks, spreading the smelly warmth all over. Now he could finish his doll, and if things went as he hoped, then Pascal would be on his way to being Renard's 'boyfriend', whether he wanted to or not.