Long Story #16: Thoughts Made Fuzzy (Part 2)

It wouldn't go that far, though not because Hop was going to get away with having a steamer in his shorts. His mother and his aunt had been coming through to tell Tristan and Nathan it was time to start getting ready for bed, and Kara had told on him pretty openly. "Hop, did you have an oopsie in your pants?" His mother grilled while walking his way. What was he supposed to say? He could lie, at least until two seconds later when she grabbed him and found that out. He also wasn't about to make any admissions of guilt; he was fourteen, he couldn't be saying that he pooed in his pants like a toddler! "N-no...I..." She put her hand on his shoulder and he again felt as if the sizes he remembered were no longer a factor; had his mom gotten taller, just by a hair? Such a quandary would be left in the dustbin, while the dumping zone instead got explored. The woman pulled back his waistband and clicked her tongue at the smelly sight before her. "Hop! You went in your training pants!" She scolded, snapping the waistband back into place and taking her hand off his shoulder so she could instead grab him by the wrist. *Wait, training pants? Like...Pull-Ups?* He'd been wearing those dopey briefs, hadn't he? With how much vitriol he'd felt, it seemed impossible that he had instead pulled on a glorified diaper instead of underwear! Though his mother *had* said something about Goodnites in the car earlier... "He was squirming a lot while playing his game, and I asked him a few times if he needed to go, but he just said no." The teenager informed, talking about him like he was in the middle of being pottytrained. "He's a little old to be doing that, isn't he?" His aunt quipped. "Hop is a little slow. Firming up potty skills is still something he sometimes struggles with." His mother explained, clearly embarrassed that her kid had just crapped himself. "I-I'm not slow!" His response was understandably indignant; where did his mother get off with thinking she could practically call him a retard? Hop wasn't an honor student, but he wasn't slow! "I know, I know...Now, why don't we go get you cleaned up, hmm? Get you ready for bed, since you have such a big morning tomorrow. You too, Nathan! Go get your teeth brushed and your jammies on!" She wasn't letting him get cleaned up this time, nor did she really even offer it as an option. The woman had led him into the downstairs bathroom, after making a pit stop to her bag for some changing supplies. As it would turn out, she hadn't been lying about him wearing training pants. They weren't Goodnites, as they weren't just intended for soggy accidents, but for dirty-bottomed ones too. They were plain white like a diaper, but had no tapes like a Pull-Up. She had him stand and put his hands against the counter to balance himself as she examined the sagging lump he'd made. She shook her head and gave it a condescending pat. "You need to be better about listening to what your body is trying to tell you, Hop. You're too old to be going number two in your pants." She lectured him as she started to rip the sides of the Pull-Up. He mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation of what she'd said, but his shame was at too high of a level for him to really be intelligible. Hop knew he shouldn't be wearing something like this, and that he definitely shouldn't be soiling it, but he still couldn't bring forth the reaction that this merited. Why couldn't he properly freak out? It'd still be floating in his mind as she took his freshened rump up to the bedroom and told him to get ready for bed. It was much earlier than he'd usually be sleeping, but he actually felt tired, so he didn't argue. So tired in fact, that he didn't even remember putting on these pajamas! It was a two-piece set, with bunny prints, and the top still had a hood with the ears attached. Where had they come from? And where had the jacket gone? Those questions too got washed away as the fuzzy material of the jammies put him into a mentally relaxed state. He'd gone to join his brother in one of the beds, but he'd instead been directed toward the other bed, where Tristan was currently sitting in a Goodnite of his own. "That's the bedwetter bed, this one doesn't have a rubber sheet." Nathan sneered. "Why do I gotta have the poopy-pants in my bed?!" Tristan huffed. "Because you're both in *diapers*. That's why." Heated by the comment, both of the padded boys would squeak out: "They're not diapers!" In the same whining tone. Hop wasn't sure where that had come from, but his emotions were running high, so it made sense that he'd be so defensive. It was hard to fall asleep at first, with the rubber sheet being so obnoxiously noisy, but Hop soon succumbed to his slumber. His awakening the next morning would be brought on by the shrill complaining of his younger bedfellow: "Ewww! He smells like **POOP!**" Hop was hardly cognizant at first; memories of what had happened yesterday were slow to surface in his brain. Rolling over would result in feeling that something warm and sticky was squishing against his ass though, and then he caught a whiff of that rancid smell for himself. Tristan was absolutely right, it smelled like poop, and it was strongest right where he was situated. The alien feeling was enough to shock him awake, but his younger brother was already making answers for him. "Yeah, he poops the bed sometimes. He did it on the drive over here and it smelled super stinky!" Hop sat completely up and the muck oozed up his butt-crack; there was a squishy feeling in the front of his diaper too, which indicated that he'd done more than just poop in his sleep. Also, his Pull-Up felt much more cumbersome and thickly padded than it did last night! Without words, he started to reach down to check for himself, but he realized that his two-piece had become quite singular. It was a sleeper now, except the feet were left open and the zipper was on the front. He hadn't been wearing this to bed last night, so why was he wearing it now? Hop focused his mental muscles on that, but his thoughts felt sluggish and weak. "He's almost as old as Marley! I can't believe he poops a diaper in his sleep!" Tristan stuck his tongue out, starting to nudge Hop with his foot to get him out of the bed. *Almost* as old? Hop was fourteen and Marley was twelve! Tristan may not be adept at math, but this was ridiculous. "Yeah, that's why he has to go to special classes for kids like him. Poopy diaper kids. He's not as dumb as some of them, but he's too dumb for normal class!" "I'm not dumb!" The ridiculed teen sputtered, his face getting red at the accusation. "I-I'm your big brother!" "More like 'baby brother'..." Marley rolled his eyes, starting to get out of bed. Hop felt like he was going crazy here. Plain and clear facts about his life were being ignored and instead complete fabrications were being levied in their place! Hop was a fourteen year old bad boy, not an eleven year old mushbrain that pooped himself whenever he was asleep! "Uh-oh, I think I smell a dirty diaper in here!" Came the sudden playful voice of his father from the door. "Yeah, Hop pooped himself again, dad. He really reeks too!" His younger brother made a show of pinching his nose with one hand while gesturing toward the stinker with the other. "Well, that's okay. We'll get you cleaned up and then go down for breakfast, how does that sound? Tristan, do you need help with your nighttime pants?" The little kid scoffed and put his hands on his hips. "Nope! I can do it all by myself, like a big boy!" Hop's father got him to his feet and started to unzip the front of his pajamas. As he got the boy to step out of them, it became more obvious that his training pants had transformed into an equally plain looking diaper that had much more bulk to it. The backside was lumpy and stained, while the front was swollen and yellowed. "Ewww! Look how full it is! You can even see the poo stains! He must have pooped it really, really bad!" Tristan pointed, before giggling immaturely about it. Hop got put into another diaper, and then his father assisted him in getting dressed for the day too. The outfit chosen was another unfamiliar one: canvas cloth shortalls with little pictures of bunnies on the bib and with 'easter eggs' for the button clasps. The shirt underneath would still have the rabbit-eared hood, but now it appeared even more infantile than before. In the short period where he'd been stripped to just a dirty diaper, Hop could swear that his mental abilities felt much less restricted. When he got dressed, it was as if he was dipping his brain in molasses for how sluggish his thoughts became. "Why don't you just look precious!" His grandmother seemed happy to see him when he came to join the rest of the family for breakfast. There was already a place waiting for him: plastic plate and utensils, sippy cup, placemat, and all his food already cut up into little pieces. Why didn't anyone else see how strange this was? Why couldn't he bring it up? It was torture to know that things were out of place but to not have the capacity to force acknowledgement of it. "So, Nathan, you're liking how third grade is going?" His uncle asked. "Uh-huh! I got lots of friends and my teachers are nicer than I thought they'd be!" The man turned his attention to the older of his nephews, who was currently struggling to pick up some eggs with the shoddy utensil he'd been given. "And what about you, Hop? You're liking your uh...Class?" The question caught Hop off-guard at first, and caused him to drop the aforementioned egg onto his shortalls. "Huh? Uh, yeah, sure." "What have you been learning in there? Some really important stuff?" His uncle was talking down to him, that much was obvious. He could have said algebra, or world history, or that they'd been analyzing 'Of Mice and Men', but none of that was coming to mind. He could visualize the ninth grade topics he'd been made to engage with, but he couldn't think of the words that would describe them. "Uhhhhh....Ummm..." His mother interjected on his behalf, "He's been working on his multiplication tables! He's gotten all the way up to the fives so far, isn't that right, sweetie?" Multiplication? That was second grade stuff! Even his kid brother had a mastery over something so simple! Hop was in fifth grade, so he should already know that stuff entirely! He blinked. *Ninth* grade, he was in ninth grade. He was fourteen! A teenager! "I've been helping him with his homework, cuz' that stuff is super easy for me!" Nathan bragged with a big grin. Hop ate another bite of his breakfast and washed it down with milk from his sippy cup. A sudden pressure came knocking at his backside, and without thinking about it, he leaned to one side in his chair and let a fart rip loudly into his diaper. As he lowered his bottom back fully into his chair, something firm could be felt resting underneath his buttcheeks. Had he just pooped himself again? Marlon stuck out his tongue, "They should focus on teaching him the toilet first! That diaper was brand new!" "He's been practicing, but he still has a ways to go. Hop, finish your breakfast and then I'll give you a diapee check, okay?" His mother said. Hop fidgeted in his chair and felt the solid getting flattened. "Okay..." He should have been nonplussed and difficult about being made to proceed his meal while sitting in his own freshly made excrement, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough. He would clear his plate and even get seconds, all while a fat steamer was wedged underneath his flabby tush. Kara offered to get the dimwit cleaned up, so that the women could get started on either the dishes or the last-minute touches of the festivities. The boy made his complaints, since that sounded far too shameful, but the women were happy to delegate the doody-duty to someone else, and so Hop got tugged out of his seat by the teen. "Don't worry, Hop. I was changing Tristan just a few years ago, and I've done some babysitting too. I'll get that icky diaper taken care of in no time!" It hardly sounded appropriate to him, with there only being a two year gap between them, but was that really the case now? She seemed bigger than yesterday, or maybe he felt smaller... Either way, she would undo his shortalls and let them drop while he was in the living room. She cupped the fresh poo-bulge he'd made in his seat, "That's a big poopie you made! Feels like the Easter bunny came early." She teased. While she was cupping the warm lump, Hop couldn't help himself from pushing on his bowels. Some drool slicked his lips and he got a strained look on his face; there was a muffled crackling sound and the lump in her palm began to expand and elongate from another large turd being pinched off. "Uh-oh! Looks like someone isn't finished with their boom-boom!" He was making a spectacle of himself and his other cousins had stopped to gawk at the sight of him actively soiling his exposed diaper further. Instead of bothering to take him somewhere private, it would appear that Kara planned to change him right here on the floor of the living room. After the deed was done, she handed him the balled up diaper and told him to go throw it away. When she had redressed him, it felt as though his new diaper was thicker, and his shortalls were seemingly gone, to be replaced by a bunny-hooded romper that had a fuzzy cottontail on the butt. The first big activity for Easter would be making some crafts in the same living room that he'd just gotten his mucky butt wiped up in. He would sit with the other boys and make more rabbit ears out of construction paper and crayons; his hands felt uncoordinated, so he struggled to keep up with the other kids. "He's not good at making stuff, is he?" Marley commented, taking a look at the awkward way that Hop was handling his safety scissors. "He's good at making messes. Especially in his pants. That's a craft, kinda!" Nathan laughed, talking as if Hop wasn't even there. "Haha, yeah! He should just be doin' that instead!" The youngest boy giggled, even his own skills overshadowing the diaper dummy. "I-I can do it! M'good at craffs!" Hop argued, fidgeting in a tizzy and trying to do a better job. Hop was so focused on proving his abilities that he didn't even think about the fact that he was too old to be doing a childish activity like this. He would never have agreed to involve himself in it, at least not when he'd first arrived. He became so focused on the task at hand, that he didn't recognize that farts were starting to slowly slip out into his diaper again. He may not have noticed, but the other boys sure did. "Hehe, you makin' something over there, Hop? Makin' something big?" Tristan asked with another giggle. "Uh-huh! Makin' somethin'....Mmph...Big.." He nodded his empty little head, grunting softly as he fidgeted some more. He got on his hands and knees, to look down at the bunny ears he was making so far, and then crawled to go get some more supplies. While on the move, farting as he crawled as if he was gas-powered, he had to momentarily stop, but he didn't know why. Everyone else knew why though. The back of his romper started to swell outward with a sloppy plopping sound; it was a quick and very mushy geyser that'd done it. "Hop pooped again!" He heard his brother call out. That was preposterous! Hop had just gotten changed out of a poopy diaper thirty minutes ago, there was no way he'd already taken another dump in his pants! "Nuh-uh! No dookie!" He argued indignantly. "Oh, really?" Marley smirked, getting up and walking over to him. "You didn't just crap your pants, Hop? Then what's this?" The boy lifted his foot and suddenly pressed it roughly against the back of his cousin's romper with a squishing sound. The hot filth spread out across Hop's bottom and his mouth widened in shock at the feeling. He hadn't felt himself going at all, yet it was undeniable that he had poo in his britches. Again. His grandmother had come in the room and told Marley to stop harassing his 'baby cousin', but she'd also mentioned that it wouldn't hurt for the diapered boy to sit in his mess until he finished up with what he was working on. Like breakfast, Hop should have been more resistant against the idea of sitting in his own bubbling cauldron of mud, but the sensation was oddly soothing. Even the smell put a dopey smile on his face; he would find himself rocking back and forth in his squishy romper as he continued cutting and gluing his bunny ears. (Finished in part 3)