Story #20: Suspicions Warranted

Story #20: Suspicions Warranted The new kid at school is rarely all that interesting. Maybe they're from another state and have a funny accent, or some bizarre hobby. Lance wouldn't give most of these newcomers a second thought, instead just assimilating them into the background cast of his drab school day experience. Kole was different. Kole had come into their classroom not too long ago, and aside his nervous energy, there was something more going on with him. He dressed a little funny for one, resembling a student that should be several years their junior, and he had habits to match. The boy would fidget at his desk and stick fingers in his mouth whenever he got nervous, he was easy to fluster and a bit of a crybaby. Lance wasn't normally a bully, but he just couldn't help himself when it came to Kole. He mocked him, pointed out his juvenile habits to others, and even would push him around on the playground. Perhaps it was deeper than just going after a low hanging fruit. As much as Lance didn't understand it, he couldn't deny that there was some fixation he had. Fascination was too light of a term, and obsession wasn't one he was willing to indict himself with, so fixation was the unhappy medium he could settle on. But what was it specifically? The answer to that was within Lance's own daydreams. Early on, he had picked up on a peculiarity: the seat of Kole's pants looked...rounded. It was subtle, since the boy wore such baggy clothes, but Lance had become hypersensitive to other clues that he took as self-indulgent gospel. This want for something to be true had then led to Lance to conjure vivid images and fantastic stories in his head about how Kole must wear diapers and use them to their full potential. He'd sit behind him in class and stare at the seat of his pants, imagining to himself a mighty lump suddenly forming outward. The mania only grew, especially with every new piece of 'evidence' that his addled mind could archive. He started to even find himself discussing it with his friends, initially bringing it up as a joke, before eventually insisting that it was probably true. His friends would laugh and agree it was fitting, but were skeptical that it was actually true. Kole may be a wuss, but a boy their age in diapers? Unthinkable. The craving for confirmation was a powerful gnawing at Lance. It finally came to a confident conclusion, one day during recess. As usual, he'd kept an eye on his quarry, and it looked like Kole had decided on the sandbox for today. He'd approached from behind, clearing his throat to accost with: "Y'know, only the babies play in the sandbox." "M'not a baby! Stop callin' me that!" Kole would rebuke, his frustration on his sleeve after months of this humiliation. "Maybe stop suckin' on your thumb like one? Or dressin' like a first grader, or--" Lance stopped in the middle of his diatribe, his nose suddenly wrinkling as he got a nostril full of something foul. "...It smells like POOP." He instead finished with, his eyes burning with righteous accusation. Kole's mouth had hung open, but he hadn't necessarily defended himself, instead just sitting there in his overalls in the sand. The only audible rebuttal from him was a sudden and sloppy eruption of flatulence, one that ended with what very clearly sounded like the plopping of a mushy pantload. "...You pooped yourself. You pooped your pants..." Lance muttered, not seeming to believe it now that it was happening. It was so exaggerated that he thought for a moment that he might be daydreaming. Lance stepped forward and put his hands on Kole's shoulder, "I better check the baby to make sure though, right?" He mocked, trying to push forward with the ambition that he'd been chasing this entire time. "N-no! I din't poo myself! Go away, leave me alone!" Lance shook his head and smirked, "I can either check you right here, or in private. Your choice." The answer here was obvious. This was going to happen, so it might as well be obscured from the rest of their peers. Lance led the little wuss behind a nearby oak and gestured to the buttons of his overalls. It was do or die for this investigation; either Kole would show his soiled briefs, or it would be the dirty diaper that he'd been so convinced of for so long. The blushing boy looked unhappy with this turn of events, but he did as he was told. Each strap of the overalls came undone, and the bib wilted. He tugged down on the denim garment, and there it was: a puffy white diaper with infantile nursery prints on the front. He turned and put his hands on the tree, finally letting his bully see the long-held secret. Lance peeled the waistband back and took a curious peek inside. He cringed, blushing himself as he saw the dreadful mess that had filled the air with its unrelenting stench. He let the waistband snap back and gave the lumpy seat a firm few pats. "Guess you really are a baby, huh? Only makes sense that you'd be a poopy diaper baby too..." Kole put his thumb in his mouth and turned to look at Lance. The bully considered what to do with this knowledge; did he keep it for himself to blackmail Kole with? Or did he make a big scene and vindicate everything he'd said in the past? This would be a tough one.