Tale #149: The Weakness of His Gender

Tale #149: The Weakness of His Gender (Content Tags: Femdom, humiliation, alternate future, dystopia, forced diapering, messy diapers, mentions of puberty, mentions of braindrain) "Yeah, I bet Calvin has wet dreams in *his* diaper." "Haha, so gross!" The comment, while wildly inappropriate for the setting and the participants involved, wasn't as unlikely as it sounded. Getting a bunch of boys in the same room, most of which were beginning the undesirable odyssey of puberty, and then proceeding to show them the school-board approved movie about how their 'bodies were changing', was the perfect formula for juvenile discussions such as that. The video, which judging by the film quality was dated, was a humorous romp through the embarrassing stuff that guardians hated to explain themselves. It'd been vaguely informative, though in an attempt to be funny for its intended audience, it had failed to properly educate anyone on all the little details. The video was so dated, that it had hardly even touched base on the forced diapering that so many boys went through in this era. The 'diaper' part of the comment had been a notable jab at Calvin's expense, but it wasn't just him who fit into that category. As it was, a significant portion of the boys in the classroom were diapered as well. Calvin was one of the unlucky ones that were selected from an early age to meet a different calling than the kind that his bullies were. Jack and Gary, the two who had crudely insinuated that he was getting exploratory in his diaper, were of a different caste than Calvin. As early as preschool, they'd already been selected to become a part of 'higher labor' some day, which was about as good as a boy's caste could be. Calvin on the other hand was destined for far less; his caste was considered 'servant'. It wasn't a great draw, but it wasn't awful either. He knew some boys in the class who certainly had it worse than him. The worst selections to get were ones such as 'pet', 'livestock', and 'child'. While the best were the ones who would grow up to be 'higher laborers', 'bodyguards', and 'mates'. Calvin considered his own position to be exactly in the middle. For most of the lower caste boys, there was no allowance for certain things; one of those things was the concept of pottytraining. Diapers and their usage was something that defined the typical experience of someone near the bottom of the totem pole. More privileges were lost as a person was put further down on the hierarchy, with the lowest not even being allowed education. As it was though, even the higher tier boys weren't given much leeway. They may be afforded the dignity of underwear, but that was about as much pride as they were allotted. They were still second-class citizens who were expected to bow to their betters. Being out of line was an easy way to get your caste lowered, so all that pent-up aggression was typically aimed directly at the only ones they were allowed to ruffle the feathers of. Namely, kids like Calvin. It'd been this way for a long time. The 'how' was a well-guarded secret of the matriarchy, but at some point in history, there had been a massive paradigm shift. Men, who had ruled the earth for nearly all of human history, were ousted and usurped of their place on the throne. The boys in this very classroom had heard all about it, at least the 'truth' that had been approved by the Ministry of Education. They'd been told about all the atrocities that men had committed, and how the planet had nearly suffered a massive extinction event because of it. It'd been hammered into their head since infancy, that while women were their tyrants, they were also their saviors. No man was allowed to hold any seat of true power. They were allotted tiny microcosms, where they could feel mighty, but only over other men; any dissenters were swiftly made an example of. Even their teacher, the coach that taught the health class they were in, was only given power over male children. If a girl around the same age as Calvin was to come in, then she would be considered the ultimate authority of the room. It was a difficult thing to swallow, that gender was the end-all of value, but it was the reality that they lived in. Calvin hadn't really questioned it until his little sister had been born. As soon as she turned two, she was already being rapidly ushered out of diapers, which were seen as a primarily 'male' garment, while Calvin's pottytraining had never come. Nearly seven years old at the time, and he'd had to jealously watch as an infant was given higher dignity than he'd ever dreamed of. As soon as she could reliably speak, and once her mind had been poisoned by the ideology of the world, she had begun to boss him around without a second thought. There had been no recourse for it either, with discontent being punished over the knee of his authoritarian mother. He had no father figure to speak of, since his mother had no desire to keep a mate. The closest he had would be the servants who worked at his mother's behest; cleaning the house, cooking meals, and minding the children. He'd made sure to not become too attached to any of them either, since his mother had very high standards, which most of them would eventually fail to meet. He'd recalled the first time that he'd discovered the concept of being demoted down the hierarchy; he'd known from an early age that he would one day become a servant, but he had been ignorant to the nuances about how the system operated. He'd been about six, and one of the child-minders had made the decision to change Calvin's dirty diaper ahead of changing his little sister's wet one. His mother had walked in on that, and two things had ended up happening. The first, was that Calvin was taped back into the dirty diaper, even though he'd already been completely cleaned up. The second, was that the child-minder had been immediately demoted to a lower caste. That man, who had probably been in his late thirties or early forties at that point, was suddenly thrust into a role that he'd never dealt with. Decades of training, including the toilet variety, went down the tubes in an instant. The man's minor mistake was treated as a cardinal sin, and the excommunication he received was from the bathroom. Later that day, when Calvin had seen him again, the man was walking around in little more than a giant diaper, dusting the cabinets and groaning in pain as he uncontrollably spurted semi-solid mush into the back of the crinkly thing. His mother hadn't wasted a moment in reducing him to a more lowly position, with a special note being made that his changes were to be few and far between. Calvin really was on that edge of things, which made the diapers all the more grating. One step up, into the role of 'higher servant', and he would have been just as pottytrained as the boys who had made fun of him. Instead, he was a part of the thirty percent that would never grace a toilet seat with their bottom. In the classroom setting, it was a slightly lower percentage than that, since the lowest castes weren't allowed any education at all. It was probably close to a fourth of the class that was permanently clad in Pampers, which meant it was less often a point of mockery, but still not a completely innocuous subject. Calvin didn't find it worthwhile to respond to the crude boys; it wouldn't change anything, and if the puberty video was to be taken at face value, then the thing he was being preemptively mocked for was something he'd inevitably prove right. He hadn't personally gone through those bodily changes yet, but the video had been fairly thorough about how someone of his caste would handle it. Male puberty was but an evolutionary relic in this modern era; it was purely vestigial for a large swath of the male population, since few would ever be considered 'mates' and the grueling labor jobs were technically unnecessary in the first place. The only point in letting a boy grow into a man was to let them become big and strong enough to perform physically exhausting tasks, but machines could easily fill that role. This was made even more obvious by the existence of the 'pet' or 'child' role, in which case puberty would be disallowed; the technology had existed for a long time to keep a boy from growing up. Calvin felt pity for those who succumbed to such a fate, for the ones who would forever remain children, but such a caste wasn't the worst possible thing. Those who were stunted were usually bought by women who would treat them well; it was an eternally condescending position to be put into, but it also meant that they wouldn't have to sweat out in the fields or toil away in some mine. Their only responsibility would be to be 'cute' for their owner, and to play whatever role was demanded of them. It scratched a maternal itch that hadn't been dissolved in the paradigm shift, especially for women who had no interest in having a child of their own, and who relished the thought of keeping their 'child' at the same juvenile stage indefinitely. It wasn't completely unheard of for a mother to stop the aging of her biological son for the same reason. He'd known some such boys, and some were even in this classroom now; the puberty video was likely salt in the wounds for them, since they would never get any closer to such a transformation. They would forever be children, and for some, their education would soon be coming to a close. That part didn't sound as bad, but it probably felt a lot worse to be kept so ignorant. For boys like Jack or Gary, their futures would look very different: they would obviously never reach the full rights of a female, but they would be allowed a fairly high level of autonomy in comparison to someone in a servile role. They would work jobs, be compensated, and be allowed to have their own homes; if they were seen as worthy, then they may eventually be taken as a 'spouse' by their betters. No diapers, no enslavement, no working themselves to death. It was considered one of the highest possible roles in the caste system, and Calvin would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't jealous of such freedom. That wasn't to say that they were safe from demotion, as a woman could always pluck them from the top of the totem pole and fling them down below, but that typically only happened by breaking the rules or disrespecting the matriarchy. If they kept their act together, then they'd live a fairly fulfilling life. While jealous of that extra freedom, it still wasn't quite enough to satisfy what Calvin really wanted. Calvin, like many boys, had heard of pockets of resistance to the way that things were; groups of men who had taken themselves off the grid, and who lived completely free of the feminine tyranny that threatened them. They were *truly* free, and Calvin daydreamed often of one day coming across them. The matriarchy would lead little boys to believe that such a faction was a fantasy, and that if it did exist, then it would immediately devolve into slovenly anarchy; it was heresy to imply that men could be capable of ruling any functional society, or that such men had somehow escaped the rule of women. Calvin knew better though. He hadn't met anyone from such a group, but he recognized that his own desires for freedom couldn't be alone in this world. Somewhere out there, there was a place where he could happily live out his life in whatever way he personally chose. The only thing that ever swayed his belief away from that, was the fact that so many men seemed so bereft of any hope. It was rare to meet an adult male who had lived a life that they were proud of, and so few seemed interested in becoming more than playthings for their rulers. Did they ever have hope? Or was their hope slowly plucked from them, like feathers from a bird? How many years did it take to break their spirit? The teacher in the room, who had presented the video, was one such oddity to Calvin. The man was allowed to have a job in male education, and presumably had a little life of his own outside of work, but he seemed as if he'd given up on his dreams years ago. Calvin wondered if he'd ever had ideations of a better life, or if he'd counted his blessings for such a dignified caste, and instead deigned to never rock the boat. That's how Calvin looked at Gary and Jack; they were bullies, and they seemed proud of their future, but Calvin couldn't help but pity them. Their lack of resistance to this world was a shortcoming in his eyes, because it meant that they didn't believe in actually being free; their accommodations were just cushy enough to permanently placate them. They were without hope or dreams, and Calvin found that profoundly sad. There was an irony in that, that the least free on paper, were likely the ones who most believed in the ideals that would lead to true liberation. Those who could see their future from a mile away, and who recoiled in horror, were the ones most likely to find themselves a better tomorrow. Calvin's thoughts were suddenly interrupted once more by the sound of sloppy flatulence, and his eyes homed in on where it was coming from; a chubby boy who was a couple of desks away was getting red in the face, and it was readily apparent that he was in the middle of trying to shit himself. Many of the boys that remained in diapers, or who were sentenced to them, kept a certain level of control that meant they have to actively participate in their own debasement. Calvin was such a kid, since while his bowel control was significantly less refined than his non-diapered peers, it wasn't completely nonexistent like some other boys. It meant that when the potty signals came, that he either would have to wait until the evacuation happen on its own, or the more typical response would be to just push out whatever was knocking at the back door. Some of the other boys, the ones who weren't diapered, giggled at the sound of what was happening, but it was a normal enough occurrence to not remain a topic of interest. In an average classroom of thirty boys, there would be a little fewer than ten who would be in diapers, which meant that the sickening sounds of self-defecation were not at all uncommon during the day. Any gathering of boys was sure to have that odor of poop and talcum powder in the air as a signature fragrance, as if taking the essence of what a daycare smelled like. It was a lot worse in the younger grades, where even fewer boys were pottytrained, but most boys grew accustomed to it. Calvin himself had few qualms with the smell of a dirty diaper by this point; his own had never bothered him, but he hardly so much as twitched his nose at the pungent fumes of his peers either. It was too fundamental to the male experience in this era to be repulsed by it, and Calvin had seen several boys who had even reveled in the earthy odor, though those were usually the boys already on the fast track to the lower castes. The chubby boy was hardly the only one hauling a load in their trousers, and that could easily be discovered by just looking around the room. Diapered boys weren't allowed to cover their padding in the classroom, probably as a way to degrade them, but more pragmatically as a way of keeping the conditions of their diapers in full view of the instructor. Several other of his classmates had their puffy padding on full display, and he could see lumps or brown stains on most of them. It was late in the school day, and changes were only given upon full usage of their current diaper, so most of these boys had likely initially crapped their pants hours ago. Calvin was no exception to that. He'd had to take a big dump after lunch, and so he'd been waddling around with a fat steamer in his diaper for the last two hours. Diaper rash had been all but fully eradicated by this time, with the baby powder having been refined to make it a nearly impossible condition to be stricken with, so poopy diapers were something that had to be suffered for hours and hours at a time. The way it looked was that the chubby boy had been holding it all day until this class, which tracked with what Calvin knew about him. He'd been demoted from a higher caste, and thus his diapered state was still very new to him, and his bowel control was scores better than any other diapered boy in here. That was really more of a curse though, because his pride hadn't yet weakened to a point where he could comfortably pinch off a loaf in his diaper on a whim. Waiting all day also hadn't done him any favors, because now the load in his pants was truly tremendous, and it looked like he was smuggling a football in the back of his diaper. Calvin tree tapped his pencil against his desk and quietly sighed. Was this really what life would always be like? Could he never rise to be better? Would he and every other male forever remain subjugated under the rule of the matriarchy?