Long Story #14: Unwanted Presence (1972)

Long Story #14: Unwanted Presence (1972) (Part 2 to 'Unwanted Presents 1972') (Content Tags: Messy diapers, forced pantspooping, forced diaper sniffing, spanking, humiliation, rich versus poor) First contact between Casey's nose and Marty's diaper had established who the dominant force was. That had been day one, where the law of the jungle was shown by a totally one-sided beatdown. Casey's snobbish attitude had crumbled under the heft of his cousin's bumpkin bottom, and his pride had been left wounded by the forced sniffing he'd been forced to endure. It was a killer of confidence, and it was such an embarrassing scenario, that Casey genuinely didn't feel that he could tattle on Marty for doing it. He'd already be ashamed to admit that a younger boy had won over him in a physical encounter, but he'd die of embarrassment if he had to also describe how Marty had made in his diaper on Casey's face. Was there any more of a submissive, demeaning position, then to have another boy sloppily load the back of his diaper, while making you sniff it? So the circumstances of that first meeting were kept a secret, and Casey found himself doing whatever his diaper-clad cousin asked of him. It'd already been proven that Casey couldn't best Marty in strength, and the older boy really didn't want a repeat, as long as he could help it. The demands were simple at first, which came as a pleasant enough surprise. Casey hadn't been sure what to expect, but after his ordeal, he'd thought that Marty would be having him prostrate himself in far worse ways. Unpacking his suitcase and letting the diaper-dumper play with his stuff, now that wasn't so bad? But then Marty also wanted Casey to give him a diaper change, which wasn't something a snob like Casey was familiar with for even a toddler, let alone a kid as old as his cousin. Marty had to walk him through it, while laying on his back and smirking while he watched Casey cringe and turn away from the pungent odor of his droppings. It felt beneath Casey to dirty his hands with such a vile task, but he dare not made that opinion known, or he may incur more of the diaper boy's wrath. So he swallowed his pride and wiped Marty down, far less efficiently than a seasoned changer would do, but sufficiently for a first-timer. He then had to follow Marty's instructions on pinning the new diapers on, and how the terry cloth should be properly folded. By the time that Casey was pulling the plastic pants back up over the tidy diapee, he'd learned more about child-rearing than he'd ever known before. He picked up the heavily stuffed diaper that he'd just taken Marty out of, but before he could ask where he should put it, his cousin had demanded that he give the sagging garment a strong, close whiff as a reminder of who was in charge now. Lifting the still warm diaper up to his nose, he winced and gave it a big theatrical sniff, just as instructed. Marty laughed his butt off about it, but seemed satisfied by the degrading display. He then had told Casey to hand it over, and that he'd request that the diaper pail be put in the room they'd be sharing, instead of in a far corner of the house where the stench wouldn't be a problem. Casey cringed at the thought of the pail being in his room, but he wasn't really in any position to argue against it. It would be better to smell it in a way that had the odor at least partially muffled, then to complain and get another diaper shoved up to his nose. He watched Marty waddle out with the stained garment in his hands and took a seat on his bed. The rest of the afternoon went without incident; the diaper pail had indeed found itself in his room, with the first deposit fuming at the bottom of it. Casey had tried to avoid Marty the rest of the day, but the grownups wanted nothing to do with him, and they wanted him to entertain his cousin. He was able to distract Marty for the most part by letting him play with all the toys that Casey had, which seemed to placate him well enough. Of course, while the diapered boy was pacified by all the shiny expensive toys, Casey still had to deal with 'Farty Marty' stinking up his room like the place was a nursery. Only now, he couldn't complain or tease the boy; and he definitely couldn't kick him out. With newfound power, Marty also didn't seem embarrassed by his gassy outbursts, instead giving Casey sly looks over them. It wasn't until long after dinner that Casey's disgust and aggravation had reached capacity. The two of them were in the upstairs playroom, where Casey's parents had put a second TV for their spoiled son to enjoy. They'd both been sitting on the floor in front of it, watching some variety show, when Marty had lifted his bottom and let loose an exceptionally foul bout of flatulence. The juicy explosion rippled in his diaper for a solid ten seconds, growing wetter and louder the longer it released. Whether it was trailed by something solid or not, the intestinal wind had left a strong smell of poop in the air, and Casey was sick of it. "You can't even get through one TV show without making it hard to breathe?! Why are you so gross?! How can you just sit there and make in your pants like that?!" Usually, Marty would have gotten defensive or flustered by the aggression, but not any more. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and smiled wickedly at his cousin. Almost immediately, Casey realized that he'd stepped out of line. "..I-I mean--" "Oh, I *know* what you mean, Casey. You made it really clear. You're just wonderin' how I do things; sounds like you want a better idea, huh?" Casey gulped and swiftly shook his head, "N-no! I'm sorry, I don't need to know anything." "That's not what it sounded like to me." Marty replied, starting to stand up, his legs bowed out by the cloth diaper he had on. "I think you know what's coming next. You're better off just doing it, unless you want me to make it worse on you." Casey froze up, unsure what was about to happen, though he had a pretty unsettling hunch. "Marty, you just need to learn to take a little constructive criticism, I didn't mean anything by it! Honest, I was just--" The older boy's slimy pleas were snuffed out by his cousin turning around and forcefully planting his puffy cotton rump right onto his face. The rest of his words became muffled by the thick cloth and Marty wasted no time in letting another turbulent toot escape into the garment. Once again, for the second time today, Casey was forced into a position of complete obedience and submission; the rich snob again had to quiver and quake underneath the weight of a completely undignified position. The smell he'd just lost it on Marty for was now the only thing coming in his nose, and there was no escaping the miasma. "I thought you would have learned your lesson from earlier, Casey. I know if someone made *me* into a poopy diaper smeller, then I'd learn to keep my mouth shut! Maybe you actually like it, huh? Like taking a big whiff of a flower or an apple pie?" Marty's gut gurgled some more, leading to a few more explosive notes that sputtered right against the other boy's nose. "Mmph...Speaking of apple pie, I think that I'm about to make some room for dessert. Got another joke to make about that? That I'm fat or something?" Casey was of course in no position to make any insults, not just figuratively, but quite literally. All the squirming and fidgeting in the world wasn't enough for his scrawny frame to move the husky kid off of him. The irony of the situation was palpable; all the things he'd mocked Marty for over the years, now being used as a weapon against him! "W-well, you're about to see what two servings at dinner will do! I bet it won't smell as good coming out as it did going in." Marty laughed, wiggling his puffy bottom in place and beginning to actively push on his bowels. That crackling noise came again, just like earlier, and that could only herald the thing that Casey feared most. The cloth diaper, unhindered by the plastic pants that Marty wore earlier, began to slowly bulge in back from a titanic turd. The tented lump prodded gently against Casey's nose, teasing with its sluggish descent into the garment. "Mmph! R-really feels like it's going to be a big one! But you tell me, Casey, you're the one with the real scoop on it!" Another foul wind erupted, which helped the immense log along; the bulge in the back of the diaper doubled in size, and easily tripled in both heat and putrescence. Casey felt it smoosh against the front of his nose, but that didn't stop it from coming, nor did it even impact the unyielding speed of the payload dropping. The older boy tried to hold his breath, but that simply wasn't a viable solution in any way, and it left him huffing and inhaling far more of the fumes than he wanted. Marty let out a sigh of relief upon feeling the gargantuan steamer pinch itself off and he allowed himself to bask in the post-poop stupor. The boy fully relaxed his weight, no longer holding back from lounging himself on his new 'throne'. He could feel his own mess smear tautly against him and couldn't help but crack a grin; with a panting chukle, his gyrated himself back and forth, to make sure that Casey better remembered his lesson this time. "...Got a better idea of things now, cousin Casey? Any more dumb questions?" All that responded was the boy's flailing limbs and squirming form, the muffled shouts of his obedience coming from underneath the smelly mound he was forced to worship at the altar of. "If you understand, then I want you to know how it feels. Poop in your underpants; right here and now. Do that and I'll get up." What choice did Casey really have? He felt like he was going to pass out if he had to endure anymore of the wretched brat's fumes. He hadn't had any accidents since he'd been toilet trained, and he'd never done anything like this on purpose, but he was desperate for fresh air. Casey focused the full of his will toward making his pants as full as requested. It was fortunate that he hadn't gone since early in the day, otherwise he may have truly been underneath the dirty diaper for a long, long time. He had to push hard; much harder than he would if he had been using the bathroom normally. Even though his mind had this pantload as a stated goal, his body was threatening civil war over the physical act. Casey was so well trained, and not just in his toileting, that it acted as a total blockade against the task at hand. It didn't help that he was having to do it at such an unnatural angle and in such a poor posture. Finally, breaking wind, the boy could feel that something was breaching into his briefs. So close. Just one big push, that's all he needed to cross the finish line and escape this putrid prison. With strain that made him feel almost dizzy, the solid log made landfall in the back of his briefs with a crackling crash. The sound, in the otherwise quiet room, was evidence enough for Marty to lift himself off of Casey. The older boy took in the comparatively fresh air with greedy glee, laying there with a red face and an exhausted look about him. The embarrassment of being forced to intentionally soil himself was secondary to the joy of no longer having Marty's smelly diaper in his face. "Guess you kinda know what it's like to poop in your pants now, huh? That's the easy part, though. Next you need to go let the grownups know what you did." Casey turned his head, almost too tired for shock. He almost didn't think that his cousin was even serious with what he was saying; it was one thing to torment him in the privacy of the playroom, but did he really expect that Casey would soil his reputation too by reporting his personal befouling? That'd make him seem like Marty! It was completely unacceptable! "..I-I can't do that..." "Oh? Why not? You think it will be embarrassing to tell your parents that you used the toilet in your pants? How do you think I feel?" Casey started to sit up, taking great caution not to smash the load he'd made. "B-but you always go in your pants! You still wear diapers and everything! Besides, your family is...different. My parents expect more of me!" His cousin narrowed his eyes at him. "Different? Like, your family is all rich and hoity-toity? And what, mine is poor and dirty? I'm just a bumpkin, so nobody cares if I mess myself or wear big stupid diapers?" Casey bit his lip; he wasn't used to Marty being so talkative, so he'd never thought the boy smart enough to read past the subtext. Poor trash like him didn't have the wit or perception to read him so well, did they? "N-no! I just think...Well..." Marty shook his head and put a finger to Casey's lips."That's the problem. You're thinking too much, with that snobby, jerky brain of yours. Time to turn it off and just start listening, unless you want to spend more time as a chair." With a gulp, Casey gave a halfhearted nod. "O-okay, okay...I'll go...But, what am I supposed to say?" Marty put his hands on his hips and grinned. "You tell them that you went and had an accident; that you made mud in your pants." The younger boy turned and grabbed the back of his own diaper, cupping the large warm solid that was entrapped within. "Just like 'cousin Marty'!" What a shameful trudge that had been. Such a miserable trek; a march to his own destructive degradation, waddling with a warm and sticky load betwixt his cheeks. It almost made him impressed, since he realized that Marty had to walk around like this constantly, and with the added bulk between his thighs of a diaper too! But that wasn't the only part of Marty's life he had to emulate right now, and it really wasn't the horrendous part either. He'd take toddling around in full pants for an eternity over the prospect of showing his parents what he'd done even once. Casey couldn't be certain how they'd react, but he suspected that they wouldn't be too happy about what he'd done. He was right on the money with that, but it didn't take Nostradamus to foresee that outcome. His parents were mortified by their son's bashful reveal, and didn't even believe that it had been a genuine accident; they thought this was some twisted 'payback' or scheme that Casey crafted because of the whole 'shared birthday' situation. After having to clean himself up and his dirtied underpants too, Casey then went on to receive the first spanking that he'd had in years. The boy was typically so well-behaved, at least to the WASP standards of his affluent family, that his hide wasn't often tanned. Appropriate to the newfound color of his rear, it was the cherry on top of his perfectly horrible day. Marty wasn't all that sympathetic to his plight; it was the exact type of denigration that he'd hoped to inflict, to make Casey understand humility and perhaps even a dash of empathy. Though it did appear that such a goal was becoming less important to him, with cruelty for the sake of cruelty becoming the real reason for what he was doing. After years of taking guff from Casey, it was nice to see him in such an uncomfortable position. It felt good to Marty to be the one on top, the one passing edicts from above. With there still being a few days before the birthday party, there was still plenty of time to bring Casey even lower from the ivory tower that he'd laughed from atop of. This little trip had gone from being something that he had dreaded and fussed over, to being something that he was genuinely enjoying. Seems all it had taken to make him reevaluate was realizing he had the power to dominate his cousin's life, to totally upturn it. The younger boy wasn't shy about it either. As the two of them got into bed for the night, Marty let Casey know that he wouldn't be leaving the bed in the morning without having another accident. Either soggy sheets or poopy pajamas, he'd give him only that one choice. With the typical state of Marty's nighttime diapers in the morning, he'd have the perfect smelly cudgel to enforce his decree with. Unless Casey wanted to play the part of a seat-sniffer once more, then the older boy would have little choice but to oblige whatever degrading request that Marty had in mind. Marty would fall asleep long before Casey did. Casey's mind was aflutter with anxiety that he'd never before had to concern himself with; a rich boy like him wasn't accustomed to having worries, of living in fear. His pinkened rump didn't help things either, and after a while, he also had to suffer the stench of Marty's slumbering flatulence rumbling the bed right next to him. The last thing that Casey was given to think about that night, before succumbing to his own slumber, was hearing the telltale crinkling of Marty's plastic pants expanding to accommodate a fat turd. Being so close underneath the blanket, he even felt the warm lump press a bit against him from the side. He'd woken up this morning with the disdain of not wanting his cousin here, because he was embarrassed of him, but now it was because he didn't want to be embarrassed by him. But he would be. In ways he couldn't yet even fathom.