Story #37: Unwanted Presence

Story #37: Unwanted Presence: (A small sequel to 'Unwanted Presents') (Content Tags: Messy diapers, facesitting, diaper sniffing, bullying) Christmas had been an absolute nightmare, even when compared to the torturous days that'd trailed behind it. Peter had lost out on all his cool presents, losing them all to his despicable little stepbrother, and now his parents thought he was some naughty little miscreant that wanted to wear dirty, stinky diapers. The only shining light over the very bleak horizon was that with the holiday coming to pass, that should mean that his stepbrother would be leaving, and he'd finally be free of his tyranny! Or at least that was what he'd thought the situation would be. The surly bonds of fate decided that they'd again trample upon him, just in case there was any small, infinitesimal portion of his pride left. Something came up, and his parents needed to go out of state to help a family friend; they couldn't very well take Peter with them, especially not after the stunts he pulled the previous week! So he was going to stay with his dad, stepmother, and with...Billy. It'd only be a week at the most, his mother had said, but could he trust that? And even if he did, could he possibly survive another week with Billy? And on his home turf no less! He had still been packing his bag when his parents had left to go on their trip. Billy had seen it necessary to keep the wheels in motion on this runaway train, so he informed Peter that he'd spend the next week continuing to listen to his every word. Peter could only meekly melt before the younger boy and agree that he'd be completely obedient, though he still felt a raging indignation beneath the surface. It was at that point that Billy calmly told him to go ahead and poop his pants. It was a new request, but not one that Peter hadn't considered was a possibility...He'd already been forced to start wetting his bed, among a myriad of other humiliations, so this was a natural progression in theory. The older boy performed as was expected of him. It hardly felt as if this was a new rock bottom for him, when he stopped to consider that he'd had his nose buried beneath a diaper in the process of being loaded, or that he'd then went on to wear that same diaper himself. If anything, this was not nearly as bad as it could be. From that point, as could have been expected, Billy forced him to trot out and fess up to the 'accident' he'd just had. Not wanting to deal with soiled underwear on the drive, it was decided that Peter would wear one of Billy's diapers (thankfully a clean one this time!) Then, before they left, Billy thought it prudent to point out that Peter might have been a little taller than him, but they were around the same weight, so shouldn't they both have the same type of seating in the car? Luckily, or rather, unluckily for Peter, they happened to have a spare carseat, likely for whenever they needed to cart around one of Billy's dumb little preschooler buds. The drive should have been pretty uneventful. Peter played his gameboy, they stopped at a drive-thru for some greasy burgers, and Billy couldn't bully him too blatantly from such a visible spot in the backseat. Things couldn't remain so pleasant forever though, and a couple of hours after they'd had lunch, Billy was whispering his whims to his captive stepbrother's ears. He was to mess himself, again. The adults were talking about stopping at a rest stop to use the bathroom and get some gas, and here Billy was with the devious idea of making sure that Peter's newfound Pampers saw some action before the drive was over. It was more difficult for him than earlier, due to the sheer resistance of his seating arrangement; he was bound into the seat pretty snugly and the straps were firmly pushing against his padding. He had to put his hands on the sides of the carseat and raise himself up the inch of give that he had; trying to be quiet, Peter began to push out a large sticky steamer into the confines of his lent diaper. The diaper bulged and began to strain against the strap of the carseat, nearly partitioning the load in pants; finally, with the smelly deposit made, he begrudgingly lowered himself back down and felt the piping hot pile mash flat underneath the weight of his rump. In the insular environment of the car, the fumes had nowhere to dissipate to, and everyone could soon smell what he'd done. First blame of course went to Billy, since he was still in diapers 24/7, but the brat denied that he was the source. They didn't believe him at first, but once they'd reached the gas station and gotten out, a quick pair of diaper checks rooted out the real culprit. That was how Peter had been subjugated into diapers for the 'next couple of days', to see whether or not he could be trusted with going back to undies. With Billy lording over him, those couple of days would easily stretch into the entire duration of his stay, and he'd only see some salvation when he finally got to leave the tiny terror's domain. Arriving at his father's house, with his stepmother and Billy, Peter was really able to appreciate how better off his own life of luxury was. It wasn't so much that they were poor, but decidedly middle-class; it was no surprise why Peter's pile of gifts had started so much larger and more expensive than Billy's had. The worst part about this modest abode, was the not-so-modest proposal that Peter would be staying with Billy. They didn't have any guest rooms, and they weren't about to let him sleep on the couch all week...So the only option left was the worst one. His stepbrother's room was as juvenile as he could have expected, with the added touches of extended infancy with furnishings such as the changing table, diaper pail, and toddler-style bed. Billy's parents casually explained that the younger boy simply had trouble with rolling out of bed in his sleep, which is why the rails had been left up; their height almost made the bed feel more like a crib though. It was certainly feeling that way when he was getting locked in with Billy later that evening, and at a much earlier bedtime at that! The bed also hardly seemed meant for two, so quarters were very cramped for these odd bedfellows. As much as Peter knew he hated it, he could also see some irritation from Billy for the first time; the tyke might enjoy tormenting his older stepbrother, but at this particular juncture, Peter's presence was decidedly unwanted. With both boys in the bed, they were either bumping elbows or pressing up against the bars on the sides. Billy finally ordered Peter to shape himself into a position that would surely be uncomfortable to sleep in, all so that the diabolical diaper boy could sprawl partially on top of him and get as much space as possible. The end result was Billy's diapered rump resting against Peter's face, an imposition he'd shamefully grown more accustomed to; as the younger boy fell asleep, Peter found himself unable to follow. Besides the physical discomfort of the cramped crib, the sleeping brat was beginning to get very gassy. Peter tried to shy away from it, but there was nowhere to go; nowhere to flee. So he just had to take it, as blast after blast of hot flatulence rippled loudly against the bulwark of the thick white diaper. The gas was quick to shift into a solid, or at least a semi-solid, as the garment began to bulge and puff out with the rapidly accumulating pile of droppings contained within. Peter groaned, his nose again becoming engulfed by the bulging seat of his bully's filthy, poop-packed Pampers, where it'd be forced to stay for the remainder of the night. If this was just the first night, then he had no idea how he'd survive the rest of the week.