Story #121: A Potato Party

Story #121: A Potato Party (Part two to 'Trailer Trash and Diaper Rash') (Content Tags: Poverty, class exaggeration, messy diapers and training pants, forced seat-sniffing, mushbrained antagonist, domination, perceived as dumb) Whenever Tatum had the unfortunate opportunity to 'play' with Spud, his step-brothers liked to start making quips about their names. He'd already gotten the nickname 'Tator-Tot' from his mother since early childhood, and once the boys heard her call Tatum that, they'd jumped aboard that train too. So, in a surprisingly clever way, Billy had begun to refer to the playdates as 'potato parties', which worked on more than one level. Spud seemed completely unaware that he was being mocked alongside Tatum; if anything, Spud actually found the phrase pretty funny. Tatum had asked them to stop, and he'd even tattled to his mother, but the boys just played dumb and insisted it was purely based off the theme of name, rather than a pejorative about their IQ. Billy and Bubba did a lot of things like that. The pair weren't much smarter than a damp towel on their own, but together they could be a little more clever than Tatum liked. There was certainly an irony there, that these uneducated bumpkins, who were almost certainly less mentally capable than Tatum, got their jollies by denigrating his intellect. Not to say that Tatum was very smart, since he hadn't done all that well in school for the most part, but he was definitely a few rungs above the trailer park. Walking around with poopy in his trainers didn't exactly prove that though. Tatum was still very much adjusting to his new surroundings. Coming from a well-off suburb to a dingy pit like this was a huge culture shock, and while his mom came from trash, it hadn't been very obvious during his formative years. He stuck out like a sore thumb here, but funnily enough, his often soiled 'disposable briefs' actually made him more approachable. He was obviously accepted by the other pantspoopers in the park, such as the mushbrained Spud, or the small gaggle of Kindergarten-and-under brats that had yet to be pottytrained. The older kids, which was to say the kids closer to his age, were a little less accepting, but some of them seemed unperturbed by his humiliating state. He was more likely to be ostracized for acting 'fancy' than he was for waddling around with a dump in his britches. The older, older kids were a completely different story. To Tatum, that meant older preteens and full-on teenagers; several were content to ignore him, or treat him in the same capacity as Spud, but there were a few that he genuinely needed to watch out for, since their bullying was rumored to be totally savage. He really didn't even need to leave his own house to be bullied. Between his stepfather and stepbrothers, Tatum already had all the bullies that he could handle. It was subtle, but Tatum figured some of their behavior was fueled by resentment for where Tatum had come from; even in a stained tank-top and sagging, browned trainers, Tatum couldn't shake the scent of 'privileged' off of him. Maybe it was only subconscious, but they must have it in their head that Tatum thought he was 'better than them', which made them double-down of degrading him to the lowest possible point. The cudgel in their hands was Tatum's 'autism' and his pantspooping, or as Frank would put it, his 'retardation'. If they could strike away at that, then they could feel superior. So, since his household was outwardly aggressive toward him until his mother got off work, Tatum spent a lot of his time outside of it. However, there weren't a ton of places to just 'relax' in the trailer park, at least not comfortably without another adult shooing him off. This meant that he had to effectively go to a 'friend's house', and the only consistent place was with Spud, since he never had anything going on. Hence the 'potato parties'. Spud's family was nice enough. He had an overbearing, but very sweet mother, and a couple of siblings. His older sister had dropped out of high school and had a kid of her own, who was probably about four; the sister actually ran a shoddy 'daycare' out of their abode, where she poorly supervised whatever kids weren't already running amok throughout the trailer park. Spud also had a younger brother that was around Tatum's age, but Tatum hadn't really seen him too much, since he was apparently split in custody. Spud was simple, and he didn't ask for much, so he'd really become the standard choice. On a more guilty note, Spud also made Tatum feel better about himself. They both had autism, but Spud was far lower in function, which helped Tatum to understand what the 'spectrum' part of the disorder was supposed to mean. Tatum struggled in school, but Spud had a Kindergarten education at best. Tatum frequently had poopy accidents in his training pants, but Spud was loading full-on diapers at a significantly higher rate. Those were some of the major differences he liked to highlight, but there were a ton of tiny ones too. One difference that he would be soon learning was their level of emotional maturity and control, as well as what constituted appropriate social behavior. It'd started as any other warm Summer morning; a nutritionally devoid breakfast of pop-tarts, a much needed change from his mom before she went to work, and a fresh bout of anxiety about what challenges the day would bring. He knew it was his cue to leave when he smelled the booze-drenched aroma of Frank shuffling about. As per Frank's edict, Tatum had to leave without any pants to cover his trainers with, but it wasn't like it was a secret to anyone in their immediate area of the trailer park. Still, the boy didn't like to feel embarrassed, so he made a straight line for Spud's trailer. So would start another long day of suffering the stinker's company, but at least it'd get him away from his own place, and it would allow him to stay inside, instead of out in the heat. It was his older sister who would answer the knocking at the door, and she allowed him to come inside. At first, she had been against Tatum coming over, since she saw it as Frank (who apparently had a shady reputation around here) trying to get free childcare for his 'special needs' stepson. After a brief confrontation, where Frank shrugged and told her that he didn't expect her to change, feed, or even watch Tatum, and she'd started to relax. She didn't have a strong opinion of Tatum yet; she assumed he was mushy in the brain, like her little brother, but perhaps not quite as bad. If nothing else, it was positive to get Spud a playmate, and it helped to keep him occupied. "Spud's watchin' his cartoons, before all the lil' ones start arrivin." She informed the boy, leading him into the living area, where an outdated TV sat in front of a couch that'd seen better days. Spud wasn't on the couch, he was on the floor. The preteen was even more bare than Tatum, since the only article of clothing he had on was the bulky diaper around his waist. He had an empty plate next to him, which by the excessive syrup, looked to have been for waffles, and a sippy cup next to it. "Spud, your little friend is here!" He turned his head and smiled at the younger boy, "Hey Tator! Come watch toons!" This was the part of Spud that Tatum had no problem with. Tatum loved cartoons too, and Spud actually watched plenty of ones that Tatum personally enjoyed. With Frank monopolizing the TV, this was one of the only times he could watch them at all! Tatum walked over and got on the couch, as if to still separate himself from the older boy on the floor; to show, quite literally, that he was above Spud. That was one of the biggest issues that Tatum took with this arrangement; his association with the dummy had only solidified how others perceived him. He didn't want to be seen as anywhere near the same as Spud. "Sorry, kiddo, but I think you need to be on the floor too." The woman chided, grabbing him from underneath his armpits and lifting him off the couch. "Those Pull-Up Pampers don't hold things in very good, and I'm not about to hose off the couch cushion." She placed him down next to Spud and walked away, content to let the two boys watch their cartoons and stay out of trouble. Tatum wasn't pleased, but he knew better than to rock the boat, so he focused instead on getting comfortable there on the grungy carpet. Things would go pretty normally for a little while; the pair would sit vacantly in front of the idiot box, burning the morning hours away; Spud was gassy as usual, which meant repeatedly farting in his diaper, but so far it hadn't sounded like any solids had slipped out. Meanwhile, Tatum's own gut had been gurgling for a while, which informed him that his morning BM was imminent. The prospect of avoiding an accident was a pleasant one, and Tatum wondered why he hadn't considered before that he could use the toilet while he was here, when he'd effectively been barred from it at his own home. He started to stand up and Spud looked up at him, "Where you goin'?" "I gotta use the bathroom..." "But you wearin' a diapee, like me!" Spud seemed perplexed, as if it was inexplicable that someone else in diapers could use the toilet like a normal kid. Tatum considered arguing that the disposable briefs were *not* diapers, and that they were easy to pull up and down like underwear, but he wondered if Spud would even understand the distinction. For every semi-normal way that Spud acted, there were five or six ways that he acted that reminded Tatum that the older boy was as 'Special Ed' as they come. "This isn't a diaper like you got...I can still use the bathroom. Can you tell me where the bathroom is?" Spud furrowed his brow and looked upset. Perhaps it was the fact that Tatum was eschewing their one major piece of solidarity, or maybe it was an anger that Tatum was trying to act like he was more sophisticated than Spud believed he should be. Either way, the preteen wasn't at all happy that Tatum was trying to avoid messing himself. "Nuh-uh! We wear diapees! We poopie ourselves!" Spud insisted, suddenly standing up too and folding his arms in a sulk that made him look like an oversized toddler. The way that Spud glowered down at him made Tatum acknowledge their difference in size; the three year difference became a lot more noticeable, with Tatum only coming up to Spud's chest. Besides height, there was also the matter of weight, which Spud also had a distinct advantage in; the way his chubby gut hung over the front waistband of his diaper made it all the more obvious. Before Tatum could make any more arguments for his autonomy, Spud let out another juicy fart into the bulk of his adult diaper, and his face started to tense up. "Mmgghhhh...P-Pushies.." He murmured, some drool beginning to seep out of his mouth. When it came to diaper usage, Spud's intellectual shortcomings became much more pronounced. The dummy *loved* pooping himself, and was very open about how he enjoyed both the feeling and the smell of his own dirty diapers. To a certain degree, Tatum shared some of those feelings, but he definitely wasn't as open about it or as unashamed to admit it to himself. Tatum tried to take a step back, but Spud's hand came out and grabbed him by the arm. "Nghh...We poopie together, Tator." He said plainly, letting another loud fart rip into his seat. The urgency in Tatum's own bowels was getting worse, and while he'd become no stranger to soiling himself on a daily basis, he wanted to at least avoid it this early on, since he'd be stuck in his own poopy trainers for *hours* "I-I really don't want to..." At first glance, it might have appeared that Spud was trying to coax Tatum in order to help him feel more comfortable with letting go, but there was actually a more selfish motive at play. While the larger dummy enjoyed his own 'brand' of stench a lot, he'd also been enjoying the novelty of the 'new' smell that his supposed friend could create; after getting enough secondhand fumes over the last couple of weeks, he was ready to sniff at the source more closely. "Yuh-huh! We can smell eachother's diapee!" Spud openly announced, without an iota of self-awareness for how vile that sounded. It was also laughable because it presumed that Tatum wanted to put his nose up against one of Spud's rancid diapers. "H-huh?! No! I don't want to do that!" Tatum squeaked, getting worked up enough that he let out a sputtering toot of his own. Spud didn't seem to be listening at this point, or if he was, then he wasn't taking Tatum's words at face value. Once the older boy had something in his head, he became committed to making it happen! Besides, this was *his* house, and he was bigger, so 'Tator' should be listening to *him*. He suddenly tugged on Tatum's arm and pulled him onto the floor on his knees, positioned behind him; he pulled some more and got the younger boy's face closer to the back of his diaper, before letting loose another intestinal wind. Tatum was taken off-guard by the aggressiveness that Spud was putting out, since the mushbrain had been consistently docile until now. "Hnnnnghh...!" A bulge started to form in the back of his diaper, proportional in size to the redness of his cheeks from the straining he was doing. The garment rustled noisily while the lump grew in size; Spud's mouth was open and slobbering, a finger resting atop his lips. It was a little mesmerizing to watch, even though he was much closer to it than he'd like. He'd seen Spud poop himself over a dozen times in the short time that he'd known him, but this was a lot more intimate of an experience; Tatum didn't even try to budge until the lump grew large enough to be encroaching on his immediate perimeter. Tatum attempted to turn his head from the poopy 'Attends' that was around the older boy's waist, but Spud's hand kept him fixed forward, and soon Spud was backing up to get closer. "Sniff! Tator sniff poopie!" It wasn't the tone of a bully, rather the tone that someone used when they thought they were offering a kindness and wouldn't take no for an answer; Spud genuinely thought that this was being generous, and that Tatum just needed a push to partake in something that Spud just *knew* he'd love. 'Love' wasn't the word that Tatum would use to describe things. As his nose finally made contact with the warm lump, and he got a deep whiff of the putrid aroma, the autist was left conflicted. As he'd already kind of confirmed since knowing Spud, the smell wasn't *awful* to him, and it kind of made his mind feel fuzzy in a nice way. On the other hand, he had the social awareness to know how bad this looked, and that he wouldn't beat his current accusations by indulging in such a mentally vacant act. Another rumble vibrated powerfully against his nose, a low fart reverberating the cloth-backed diaper and propelling a jumbo-sized tootsie roll to join the smoldering pile of turds. A satisfied moan of relief emerged from the older boy's throat and Tatum could feel the hand on his head slacken its grip. A dull hissing soon followed, indicating that Spud was emptying his bladder as well. Tatum had focused so much on the fuming mound that his nose was pressed to, taking gentle whiffs and letting his mind empty, that he hadn't really noticed that his own bowels were starting to do the same. He'd unknowingly been squeezing a steamer out into his trainers, inch by inch as it coalesced into a heavy pile of its own. Another thing he didn't know was that Spud's older sister had walked back into the room to check on the pair and had been watching the last minute or two of the dimwitted display. If she'd been on the fence about Tatum's mental capacity before, then she'd now settled her mind on the matter. She didn't say anything, since she didn't see much harm in it, and she resolved to come back in a few minutes to get Spud changed. "...Mmm..Now I getta do it." The older boy finally announced, having heard the sounds of defecation coming from his friend's 'diaper'. He turned and pulled Tatum back up to his feet, and then excitedly plopped on the floor behind him with a noisy squish. Tatum felt the boy's nose probe the back of his disposable briefs and finally realized that he'd crapped himself during the whole ordeal. It was more annoying than embarrassing, since it was still so early in the day, and he'd be stuck soiled for the next five hours. He was also still processing what he'd partaken in, and wondering what his stepbrothers would think if they found out. His playdate being called a 'Potato Party' would be the least of his mockery!