Tale #10: 'Id' Be 'Super' Careful of that 'Ego'

Tale #10: 'Id' Be 'Super' Careful of that 'Ego' (Chapter 5 in the 'As Before, Now Again' story.) (Content Tags: Messy Pull-Ups, bullying, public humiliation, hypnosis, leaking/blowout) Mathew didn't have therapy this week. His usual session schedule fell on a holiday, so he wouldn't be returning to Dr. Farren's office until the following week. Regardless of his attendance, he was unwittingly still carrying the doctor's treatment within him; he still hadn't been allowed back in underpants, and had shifted full time to the 'disposable briefs' that he could pull up without any tapes, though for all intents and purposes, they were training pants. His bladder had been growing more finicky, but usually only responded to bouts of extreme anxiousness; the bedwetting had also returned, but that was more of a familiarity, even if it was one that he didn't like. His bowel control had also weakened, though not to the point of incontinence; he had less time to make it to a toilet, and certain triggers could cause an instant accident, but he was otherwise still making it to the bathroom most days. Now, while Mathew didn't have therapy this week, the doctor had still given him something to 'help' him: it was a tape that would supposedly relax him in his sleep and further the healing of his malignant psyche. He wasn't at all suspicious of what its true contents or purpose might be; for all the shame he'd recently endured, he didn't connect the dots back to his therapist. Spending that very morning, where he was waking up to thoroughly soaked pair of Pull-Ups, like his life had been flung back into the not-so-distant past, had not been enough to leave his pride in check. One would think that for a middle-schooler who had pooed himself so many times in the last month, that Mathew would have a deeper understanding of humility, but that was not yet the case. The delinquent still held an unhealthy and undeserved ego about him, but Dr. Farren would cut it down to an appropriate size, whether the boy was aware of it or not. The very tape that he'd been given was filled to the brim with subliminal messaging that would pump up his 'id', while rewiring his 'ego', and repurposing what his 'super-ego' was meant for. His 'id', in terms of psychology, was the primitive state of human infancy that never truly left the mind; his most basic impulses, conscious or not, would be made a louder part of the tripartite system. He'd be more prone to tantrums that way, but more importantly, all of his most basic of impulses would be magnified, including the ones regarding his toileting (or soon-to-be, lack thereof). His ego, that was the very outline for what was 'him'. It was that inner voice that had grown early in development; it ostensibly existed to channel the wants of the 'id' into something socially acceptable, but could itself be seen as the core of his or anyone else's entire personality. Making adjustments to this, he would eventually devolve into a feeble-minded wimp that was incapable of standing up for himself. Finally, there was the 'superego', or what could be seen as the 'idealized' self; this final part of the trinity was the moral filter that all things should be run through. For Mathew, this had previously been a poorly formed psychological structure, as evident by the poor way that he behaved. Going forward, this would become more pronounced, but in such a way that it hindered his ability to cause trouble. From a mental standpoint, his 'Goofus and Gallant' would both become far more involved in the culmination of his persona, while the middleman mediator became increasingly more quiet and malleable under the pressure of their opposing forces. His ego would become the victim of a lengthy game of 'monkey-in-the-middle', where his id and superego kept the ball from it, allowing for less and less correction from the reality engine that balanced the two polarized forces. Even if Mathew could be made aware of any of that, by what hope could he ever understand any of it? Even before the doctor had poisoned his mind with the dominance of her whims, it wasn't as if Mathew was some insightful juggernaut of intelligence and forethought; any and all that had been done to him was too far beyond his juvenile understanding of his own meager brain. Accidents lately or not, he'd still biked to the park this afternoon, with the intention of swinging his weight around on the other brats around his neighborhood. His id was actually instructing his move here, following the base desire to be strong, to be feared and or respected. The messy accident that he'd had at school, weeks earlier, was still considered a 'rumor', and one that'd hardly trickled down to the lower grades. That wasn't to say that no one at the park would have an inkling of it, just that he wasn't coming in from an obvious state of public humiliation. "Come on, you little *baby*, jump!" He jeered from cupped hands around his mouth, standing among a small crowd by the swing set, as a younger boy was going back and forth higher and higher. His words inflamed the rest of his audience to join in on heckling the poor lad, who at this point was swinging too high for his own comfort. "Don't be such a pathetic wuss! You're not even going that high!" For a bully like Mathew, there was no greater pleasure than tearing down someone weaker, for no reason other than your own amusement. Mathew was beaming with a gleeful grin. His programming wouldn't leave it unpunished however, and without him realizing it, his bowels were beginning to be empty themselves in proportion to his sadistic behavior. That first turd crackled out into his Pull-Up and began to create a prominent bulge in the back of his pants; it gave the appearance of a knobby nub that could only suggest the indignity of self-defecation. Lucky for Matty, nobody was directly behind him, at least not yet... The harassment of the boy on the swing finally garnered a protester, in the form of one of the boy's little friends. Unfortunately for Mathew, it was one of the few little kids that had actually heard the rumor of the bully's pantload from an older sibling that'd seen it firsthand. Worse? This had been further corroborated by Mathew's own little brother, who had leaked some of the dirty details of his big brother's recent slip into potty mishaps. "You can't call my friend a baby! Not when you're a stupid, stinky **diaper baby**!" It had caught him off guard, as well as the other kids around him. If he was smarter, then he could have calmly denied such allegations and been seen as reasonable in the face of absurdity. But Mathew wasn't that smart, and his id was out for blood. "What'd you say to me, you little twerp? Nobody talks to me that way. I'll make fun of your 'baby' friend as much as I want, and if you keep flapping your mouth, then I'll let you join him." The kid didn't seem all that intimidated by Mathew's words. "What, you think I'm scared of a dumb diaper-dooker? My big sister said that you're just a big toddler that never learned any manners...And I heard some stuff from your little brother too.." Mathew grimaced and began to step forward; his brain was telling him that he needed to stamp out this flame of insurrection before it spread any further. He would also need to have a long 'talk' with his brother when he got home. "That's it, you're going to get it now..." He sneered, his body language thinly veiling a threat of bodily harm. He heard gasps, followed by snickering. Moving forward, he had given them all a direct view of his freshly produced parcel, so snugly plopped and protruding from the padded posterior of his Pull-Up. Mathew didn't even register what they were laughing about at first; to him, it sounded like they were reacting to the smaller boy about to get a smackdown. It made the bully smirk with confidence. He would not only shut this brat up, but he'd have an adoring audience as well! "If you are making stuff up, then there are gonna be consequences, and they're gonna hurt real bad." Mathew stated as he got closer, cracking his knuckles. "...That big kid really does poo himself! Just like dumb babies do!" "Yeah, haha! Look! You can see even see where the poopie is in his pants!" "I bet he's wearing *diapers*." "...Or at least he really needs them!" "His mommy should put him back in Pampers!" Mathew froze as he finally began to hear more than just the taunting giggles of the the kids behind him. They were gossiping about...him? Had they seen his Pull-Up? No, they said something about poop...Oh no. Awareness finally hit him like a truck, and he could feel the weight of something smoldering against his buttcheeks. At some recent point, he'd pinched a full-sized loaf in his britches, and he hadn't even noticed until now. "Eww! Did the big baby dumb-dumb make a dookie in his diapee? Huh? Got brownies in those Huggies?" His target suddenly mocked him, having also heard what the crowd was saying. "Are these those consequences you were talkin' about? You plannin' on stinking up the place to torture me?" Mathew's ego felt embarrassment, but his id felt something much more incensed; the way this little dork had made fun of him, he couldn't take the indignity of it! His hot-blooded fury erupted from within, and with it, another volcanic explosion wasn't far behind. "Grrrrr....That's it! I'm gonna beat you so bad that they gotta send you back to Kindergarten!" Mathew shouted, about to raise his fist to start pummeling his prey. "Only one who should be in Kindergarten is *you* or maybe the short-bus class with all the other drooly diaper-dookers. I'm not scared of any dorky diaper dummies either, if anything, I bet you're scared of a big boy like me! You probably think I can beat you up!" The little boy laughed, striking a confident and 'intimidating' pose of his own. That was all he could tolerate. Mathew went to punch the brat in his smug face. **SPLLLLLLLLLRRRRRRT! BRAHAAAAPPPP...! Plop-plop-plop-plop-plop-SQUISH** It happened too fast for it to even really register. He had started to raise his fist, and then his bowels had begun to fully, and copiously evacuate themselves, at excessive velocity, right into his previously soiled seat. It was so powerful, that it'd not only stopped him in his tracks, but it'd made his face contort in an expression that could only be described as one of uncontrollable pooping. His training pants were swelling and sagging at speedy rate, growing heavy with filth; it lowered seat of his shorts enough to drag the waistband out of place, showing part of his messy 'disposable brief' to everyone watching. It proved too profound a task for his paltry Pull-Ups, and by the tail-end of his befouling, he had suffered a complete blowout. The back of his pants began to fill up too, acting as overflow protection; they rapidly grew lumpy and began to stain his shorts brown. The display garnered revulsion and morbid bemusement, especially at the end of his gassy, squishy eruption, when his pants too failed to contain everything, and he began to 'fertilize' the grass he stood on with a few dull *plops*. With wide eyes, he just looked at the boy he had been about to punch, who wasn't laughing like the rest of the kids, but instead just looking proud of his own superiority over a 'big kid'. "I guess you really are scared of me, huh? You just made the biggest poop I've ever seen! So you're either a scaredy-baby or a poobrain short-busser!" Mathew wanted to respond somehow, but his body hadn't finished. There was a low hissing sound as his bladder joined the party. With his Pull-Up already leaking, it only took a few moments for the front of his shorts to become soaked too. "...Or maybe you're both! Haha! You should go get your dirty diapee changed, loser. Before you stink up the whole park!" Mathew had a feeling that therapy would soon not be the only place he was wearing full-blown diapers. He also had a feeling that he'd have a bad time having to recount this story at next week's session.