Story #109: Put the Eggs in the Basket (Part 1)

Story #109: Put the Eggs in the Basket (Content tags: Plain weird, messy diapers, messy undies, diaper used as diaper pail, dominated by dummy, humiliation, crazy family members, holiday themed, forced diaper sniffing, role reversal) Peter should have known that his Easter would be a nightmare from hell. Instead of getting to spend it with his dad and his stepmother, he would be going to spend it at his mom's house. Him and his mother had never seen eye to eye, and the same could be said for his stepbrother. Peter spent ninety percent of the time with his dad, which is the way he liked it, but custody was just tenuous enough that his mother could get him for a short time whenever she fussed enough about it. The woman was crazy in many different ways, but apparently not enough to be considered dangerous. Nobody seemed to believe him anyways, whenever he tried to discuss how she acted or when he threw a tantrum over having to go over. His mother was good enough at hiding things, and her husband was a classic enabler. His stepbrother was spoiled absolutely rotten by her and the boy's father, which had turned him into an obstacle to worry about as well. Bradyn was seven now, but he still hadn't been pottytrained, and that was entirely because his parents coddled him too much. Peter suspected some developmental delays too, but his mom would never believe her precious angel was defective. On the flipside, she never forgot that Peter had been diagnosed to be on the spectrum, even with him being as high-functioning as he was. The few times a year that Peter had to see her, she was bound to bring it up and she blamed any trouble Peter got into on that. Her idea of 'trouble' was pretty strict though, at least when it involved Peter. On the whole, the woman was a narcissistic sociopath with psychotic tendencies. What a fun Easter weekend this would be, right? He never could forget the anxiety he'd feel whenever getting dropped off. It was never for too long that he'd stay, but it was always long enough, and each visit chipped away at his core. This time, as he would walk through the messy, toy-cluttered yard and up to the door, he thought he might have a panic attack. Bradyn must have seen him from the window, because the boy was opening the door to grin and greet him. The boy was two years younger than him, but their size was pretty comparable, with Bradyn's chubby frame winning out the battle on weight. The boy wasn't wearing anything except one of his youth diapers, and he didn't seem ashamed to be seen like that either. Peter blushed at the sight, having thought that Bradyn would have finally pottytrained in the five months it'd been since they'd last seen each other. But no, there was the puffy garment between his legs, with his round tummy right above. The boy looked like an oversized toddler! "Hi Peter!" He happily chirped, giving the boy a tight hug, whether or not the nine year old wanted it. "U-uggh...H-hi Bradyn.." Peter mumbled, feeling disgusted to have the bare diaper rub against him in the process. Bradyn had quite the reputation for being a frequent filler of pants, so it was always a good assumption to make that he had excrement in his diaper. One of Peter's neurosis was that he was a bit of a clean-freak, which was actually a big reason that he hated coming over here, since his mother was a borderline hoarder. The padded boy mercifully relinquished his grip and ushered his stepbrother into the house. As expected, the place was a mess, and it was starting to make Peter go nuts already; less than ten feet from the front door and he already wanted to turn around and bolt. There was laundry on the ground, and old mail that needed to be tossed; more than anything, there were toys belonging to Bradyn *everywhere*. His parents bought him new toys every week, so cheap plastic frivolities were every which way. At least twenty percent of them were busted up, since his stepbrother played very rough, but they still didn't get thrown away. His stepfather was out at work right now, but his mother was on the couch with her cellphone pressed to her ear. Peter had to awkwardly wait for her to finish up her gossip before she'd acknowledge that he'd shown up. Once she hung up, she smiled and stood up. "Peter! I barely recognized you; doesn't your father feed you anything?" Peter had always been a scrawny kid, which was a stark contrast to his portly mother and his husky stepbrother; there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with him being underweight, but his mother never missed an opportunity to act as if he was sickly or frail whenever she saw him. "Y-yeah, mom. Dad's feeding me." He insisted with a curt nod. It felt strange to even call her that, since that was what he actually called his stepmother. His parents had been divorced since he was four, and his stepmother had been much more of a mother to him than this crazy woman ever had been. Still, he didn't want to ever rock the boat too much over here, so he was as polite as he could muster. "Well, why don't we try to put some meat on those bones while you're here this weekend? Now, let's get you settled in." Peter followed his mother down the hall, but they passed by what had been the guest room the last time he was here. He looked a little confused, "Umm, aren't I gonna stay in that room?" "Your father converted that into a home office recently, so you'll be sharing with your brother." It put a really bad taste in his mouth to hear his stepfather and stepbrother being referred to in that way. He wanted to keep a maximum level of familial separation between him and them. Hearing where he would be staying likewise put a very bad smell in his nose, because his stepbrother was even more of a pig than his mother was. Lo and behold that he'd be correct in his assumptions. When she opened the door, he could already get a whiff of the fetid fragrance that felt permanently attached to this room. The smell was mostly attributed to the overflowing diaper pail in the corner of the room, but the general messiness probably didn't help. Speaking of diaper pails, the area around it was the only place that looked somewhat picked up, and that was only because there was a small palette made up on the floor beside it. Peter had a bad feeling about that, and his mother seemed to notice where his eyes were directed. "Your brother was nice enough to clear some space for you to sleep." The woman praised, giving the padded boy a gentle pat on the head. That'd require some intervention on his part, but he'd have to wait until later to take care of it. There was no way he was going to lay his head next to something as smelly as that! The blanket and pillow on the floor actually felt like a pointed attack on him though, and he wondered if there was intention there; his mother wouldn't make him wait to find out though. "Ned told me that you didn't like sharing the couch with Bradyn last time, so this should be better, right?" There it was. Judging by the sadistic expression that both the woman and the boy had, the spot of his bedding had been quite intentional. After the last visit, he'd been pretty adamant in his complaints to his father, and one of them had been that he kept getting forced to be seated around the smelly brat. On the couch, in the car, at church...Peter was tired of having to smell those dirty diapers! He hadn't expected anything to come from his venting, least of all something like this. Then again, it really felt as though he was between a rock and a hard place; sleeping on the floor, even if he picked another spot, was unacceptable. Sleeping next to his gross stepbrother with a gross, icky diaper was also unacceptable. "U-uhh...Well, I didn't mean...umm.. Anything by it.." Peter mumbled, afraid to put any of his bags down on the dingy floor. "I'm sure you didn't. You just can't help yourself, can you? My poor little 'special' baby." The woman cooed, reaching down to pinch him by the cheek. "You just need to learn to be more careful with your words, so that you don't hurt any feelings, okay?" He sheepishly smiled and nodded. He knew better than to contradict the woman, or to get into any sort of argument with her. Her narcissism meant that she never backed down and that she was never 'wrong', and any insinuation of such was met with retaliation. By extension, the same rules had to apply to his stepbrother and stepfather, as if they were the wings of one egomaniacal creature. "Good! Now, you two can play. I need to go down the street to see a friend, so you need to behave. Do you understand, Peter?" "Y-yeah, mom...I understand." The red-haired boy responded with a hand nervously rubbing the back of his head. She might have left the house, but it didn't feel like her oppressive aura had; there was still an overwhelming energy of dread in the air, and Peter could easily link that to the mischievous brat he'd been left with. "So, you like your bed?" Bradyn asked, once it was just the two of them in there. "If you need extra pillows, then you can jus' reach up and have them!" It took a second for that to make sense to Peter, but once it had registered, it made the boy stick his tongue out in disgust at the crude joke. "Eww...N-no thanks. I actually think it'd be better if I moved my, uh, 'bed' somewhere different." Bradyn narrowed his eyes, "That was the spot I picked. I even cleaned up there." "Yeah, well...As much as I appreciate that, umm...I think it'd be better if I cleaned up a new spot and slept there instead. If you want, I can help you clean up your whole room! W-wouldn't that be nice?" It was more for Peter's benefit than it was for Bradyn. The germaphobic, clean-freak was having palpitations from how horrid this room was. If he couldn't get the whole house in order, than the least he could do is make his 'room' tidy for the weekend. It had been his first order of business every time he'd stayed in the guest room! The first few hours were dedicated to making things orderly. "Oh, yeah...You don't like it when stuff is messy." Bradyn tapped his chin with a grin. "No, I don't, so if I could just--" "Nope." Peter blinked, "Nope? What do you mean? Don't you want your room to be clean? So you can walk around without stepping on toys and whatever else?" The younger boy shook his head, "Nah, I like my room like this. Everything is where I want it. Jus' watch out, cuz' sometimes I forget to toss my diapers in the pail." That did it. Peter needed to get some air. He was freaking out and wondering what the odds were that his dad would come pick him up if he called. He dropped his bag near the door of the room and turned around to walk out. He headed directly for the backdoor, with the thought of just sitting outside most of the weekend; the backyard wasn't a gem, but it was still a vast improvement. A short time later, his stepbrother would step out the backdoor with an amused smile on his face. Bradyn thought Peter's hang-ups were funny, even if he was offended by Peter's repulsion of him. After hearing that he'd been complained about, he'd schemed to make sure Peter really had something to whine about this time. "Mommy says we're supposta play, Peter. You can't just hide out here." Bradyn asserted, putting his hands on his hips, on top of his diaper. Peter groaned quietly, "Well, will you *please* let me clean your room then? I-I can't stay in there all weekend if it's gonna be like that. We can even make a game out of it!" Bradyn looked ready to snap at him again, but a lightbulb appeared over his head instead, and his scowl transitioned into a sly grin. "Okay! We can make it an easter game! But I get to make the rules, and if you break them, then mommy's gonna be really mad if I tell her." Peter wasn't sure he liked where this was going, especially since the younger boy was already making threats to tattle on him. Still, as sketchy as this sounded, it would at least mean that the room would get cleaned! He followed Bradyn back into the house, feeling oddly optimistic about the whole thing. Bradyn never acquiesced to his wants, so this was a pretty big deal! Maybe there was hope for the spoiled brat yet. "Okay. So first you gotta get dressed for the game." Bradyn dictated once they had gotten back to his room. "You're gonna be Peter 'Cottontail', m'kay?" "Like...The rabbit? Because of Easter?" "Uh-huh! So you gotta take off your shirt and your shorts, and then you gotta put all your undies on." Peter's face got pink at the demand. He was a little self-conscious about his body, and he would prefer to be as covered up as possible for the cleaning that he was about to do. "I don't really think..." "Do it!" Peter winced at the shrill shriek and reached down to tug his shorts off. Maybe if he cooperated just once at the beginning of the weekend, than the rest of it would turn out okay! He pulled his shirt off as well, leaving himself in some pristine underoos. He dug into his bag and pulled out four pairs; he always packed more clothes than he needed, in case he got dirty from playing. By the time he had put them all on, his stepbrother was admiring the handiwork and looking thoughtful toward what was missing. "Not fluffy 'nuff! You need a diaper." " A d-diaper? Like one of those?" "Yup!" He was already trudging over to his dresser to root through the drawers and get one. He held a fresh one up and smiled, "Then you'll be fluffy like a rabbit! And then we can start the game." The younger boy looked like he'd just had another thought again. He grabbed the bottle of powder and brought it with him back to his stepbrother. "I've seen mommy do it a lot, so I'll put it on you." Peter was already this far in, what was another indignity to add to the stack? Besides, if he abandoned ship now, then he'd just have kicked the hornet's nest without having anywhere to run. He stood still and raised his arms out of the way; before Bradyn even started to put the diaper on him, he'd started by puffing the powder down the waistband of his briefs. He would have complained, but honestly, the sweet scent of the talcum was welcome to help combat the odor that permeated this filthy room. Next the diaper got taped into place, with another super-sized puff of powder into the back. Speaking of super-sized, the diaper itself was a little big on him, even with the tapes made as tight as possible. It really punctuated the difference in their physique, that was for sure. Bradyn gave his freshly padded bottom a pat and smiled. "Okay! Now, before we start, I'm gonna get us juice, okay? Can't clean without juice! You should go get cleaning stuff outta the garage." Peter didn't see anything odd about that, so he went to find everything that he thought they might need. The bulk of the diaper made travel a little hard, but he was quick to adapt. Meanwhile, Bradyn was heading to the kitchen; before he got the juice, he stopped at the medicine cabinet. His reading skills were lacking, but he recognized one of the bottles by its appearance: extra-strength castor oil. He'd been on the receiving end of the foul stuff in the past, and he could attest to how effective it was at provoking a pantload. Bradyn got two plastic cups of juice and uncapped the castor oil. He poured a large amount in one of the cups, and then after giving it a thought, poured some in the other one too. The stomach pain wouldn't be pleasant, but the ending result would give him something else to gross his stepbrother out with. The younger boy toddled back to his room and realized that Peter wasn't back yet. He put the juice down and took a look at the diaper pail; his comment earlier about possible 'landmines' had been what had gotten Peter to flee, so maybe he could lean into that? He took some balled up diapers off the top of the overloaded pail and started to squirrel them away in different spots throughout the messy room. Peter had come back just as Bradyn had finished. The older boy had trash bags in his hand, as well as some towels and cleaner. "I couldn't really find much, but this should help..." "Uh-huh, good. Drink your juice." Bradyn directed, starting to gulp down his own. "We can't start the game until you finish it!" "Uh...Right." Peter nearly puckered his lips at the bitter taste his juice had, but he decided he'd just get it all done at once. This must be some gross exotic fruit that he'd never had before, it was hardly worth causing a scene over. "Now, first rule of the game. You're trying to find all the eggs for Easter, and you gotta put them in your basket. So anything white you find, you gotta put it in your basket." "Oh, okay, so is...Umm..The trash bag, my basket?" Peter gestured to the one he'd brought in, thinking this wouldn't be half bad. "Nuh-uh. Your Easter basket is the diaper." Bradyn laughed, "And if you break the rules, then I'm gonna tattle on you." A cringe grew on the older boy's face at the strange rule set that'd been concocted. Besides being bizarre and juvenile, it just didn't seem sanitary, since he might pick up trash that was white. At least he had his undies on underneath, but... "Uh, okay. Well, we should get started. Your room is really, really messy..." He would start by isolating a corner of the room and picking up whatever toys were in the way. Bradyn had no intention of helping him, but he did think he might need to speed this up. "Also, if I see anything white, then I gotta put it in your basket too! I'm your helper." "Uh-huh, okay.." Peter absently replied. With Peter's eye for detail, his pace was too slow for Bradyn's liking. So the younger boy picked up one of the balled up diapers and came up behind his stepbrother; he tugged back the waistband of the oversized garment and stuffed the stinky thing at the bottom. "Found one!" Peter squirmed in discomfort at the invasion of his personal space, though he still managed to give a sheepish chuckle. "Uh, good job...Great..." Bradyn would put a few more back there before Peter would find his first 'egg'. "Eww...This needs to go in the pail..." He cringed as he pinched one of the wings to hold it up. "That's white. It goes in your basket." Peter felt ill at the thought of putting a dirtied diaper in his 'basket'. He couldn't stomach the idea of making this diaper he was wearing into a diaper pail! "What? No! That's disgusting! You can't be serious!" The other boy gave the bottom of the 'basket' a firm squeeze, "What's the problem? I already put like five of those in here. That's the game. I told you the rules and everything!" Peter could feel his world collapsing around him. He could feel, even through four pairs of underwear, that Bradyn wasn't joking about what was in the diaper. His stomach felt awful, but he wasn't yet aware that his tummy trouble was unrelated to his current nausea. "Put the egg in the basket, Peter Cottontail. I know mommy told me you were a dumb-dumb, but you can figure this out! You either play the game right, or mommy will hear all about what a bad brother you've been." There was extra sting in those words. His mother's belief that Peter's autism made him stupid, while the clearly addled Bradyn was a 'clever cookie', it never stopped being a humiliation to him. At the end of the day, Peter's fear of his mother's reprisal was more powerful than his disgust. He stretched out the back of his diaper and dropped the stinky one inside. "Maybe you're not so dumb after all! Now just keep it up and I won't have to tattle." There was truth to that, but it wasn't the full truth. As the plan would go, Peter would essentially tattle on himself! (Continued in part 2!)