Story #183: Just Like Billy

Story #183: Just Like Billy (Content Tags: Slice of life, humiliation, mushbrained side-character, messy diapers, rural life) "Mmmph..! M-mama! I makin' a cowpie!" The grunting, straining boy proudly called out, seemingly without a single thought of shame having passed his mind. His red cheeks continued to get a richer shade of crimson, as he pushed his little rump outward and put his hands on his knees, through the dirty overalls he had on. Rippling sounds of wet gas sputtering out, being muffled by the thickness of the padding that hugged his butt. Billy was crapping in his pants, just as he always did; filling his seat with fertilizer, muddying his buttcheeks with manure. The smell would be subdued, not from the efficacy of the diaper's odor containment, or from the subtlety of Billy's pantload, but from competing with the many other noxious fumes that wafted from the barnyard and the cow pastures. The farm had a lot of poop, as was to be expected, and Billy's contribution was but a drop in a very stinky bucket. Seth, who was Billy's slightly younger cousin, was staring on in a mixture of pity, disgust, and disbelief. He'd been sent to work on the farm for the Summer, to help straighten him out, and he hadn't seen his cousin in years, so he had few expectations of what the boy would be like. Billy wearing diapers and casually crapping in them had been nowhere on his bingo card. Billy was a bit bigger than him, taller and thicker, but Seth clearly had the intellectual advantage. They were only about a year and a half apart, with Billy halfway to being eleven, while Seth was just barely now nine; the last time they had seen one another, the pair had practically been toddlers. He'd heard his aunt and uncle mentioned on occasion, about the farm they ran in rural North Dakota, but such familial ties had been irrelevant to a suburban brat living in California. His interests had been in video games, cartoons, and action figures, not in some smelly farm. Unfortunately, a few matters had coalesced during the last stretch of third grade, and it had become worrisome enough to his parents, that they decided his Summer would be better suited in a place like this; between the recent dual-diagnosis of autism and ADHD, his excessive screen time, and his downright defiant behavior, being sent to work on a family farm seemed like a solid solution. There had also been the matter of his own toileting troubles, which weren't as severe as Billy's own issues, but were problematic enough to mention; likely due to his neurodivergency, he had infrequent accidents that arose in times of emotional stress or whenever he got too locked in to whatever task was occupying the whole of his attention, which would lead to something sticky occupying the back of his briefs. He wet the bed, and sometimes peed or pooped in his pants during the daytime; it probably happened once or twice a week, which was amateur hour compared to Billy's very regular usage of his diapers, but it was enough to be seen as an additional issue. It was no issue for Billy though, as Seth could plainly see for himself. Barefoot in the mud, looking exactly like the simpleton he had proven himself to be, Billy was letting turd after turd crackle and plop onto his bulky babypants. The dimwit was amused enough with his own droppings, that he was sluggishly counting them as they pinched off into his pants, without a single concern about his little cousin watching. He wasn't just counting the logs though, he was also appraising them as they dropped like rocks in his seat: "T-twoo! Nghh, that wassa big one, kinda mushy..." There was a bizarre sense of pride in his voice, as if fertilizing the back of his diaper was his job, which itself wasn't far off from the truth. Billy handled many chores on the farm, things his dull wit could master, but making manure was a genuine part of that list. Seth had thought his relatives were making a bad joke whenever he'd heard it, but his uncle had been clear about not being wasteful, especially not with waste! It was a small contribution in contrast to the vast fields full of cows, the pigs in the pen, or the horses in the stable, but apparently every bit counted. It was an attitude that Seth wasn't at all familiar with. From his cushy life in suburbia, he'd never spent a moment worrying about being wasteful: toys that he didn't take care of, scraps of food on his plate that went into the trash, and even going through a new package of underwear every month. That wasn't going to fly here though. He'd actually discovered that on his first day here, within a couple of hours of settling in. That'd been when Billy had reared his head, after having finished his morning chores, and he'd been showing Seth the room that they would be sharing. First had come discovery of the diapers themselves, which he had first spotted in the dresser; he'd laughed about them and made a tasteless joke about one of his cousins being a dumb-dumb, but then Billy had outright claimed them as his own, without a sense of social self-preservation. Morbidly curious, Seth had inquired about why Billy was wearing such things, whenever he was older than him, and Billy's explanation had been interrupted by a demonstration of their necessity. Billy had ripped a ripe fart in the middle of trying to discuss the diapers, and then he'd blown some serious mud into the back of his overalls, which had sounded almost cartoonish in its sloppy exit. It'd been a much looser pile than what Billy was making now; in the closed quarters of the bedroom, the stench had also been much more potent. His aunt had come in right after, helping to haul Seth's remaining luggage into the room, while Billy finished dropping off luggage of his own. "C-Billy just did a big poo in his diaper, Aunt Clara!" Seth had tattled before anything else, not that Billy appeared to care about being outed. "Uh-huh, mama. I didda big dookie." Billy nodded his head with a smile, some drool still coating his chin from the strain, but not an ounce of embarrassment showing. "Good for you, sweetie." The woman had casually replied, as if it wasn't something that required any attention. She'd started to move on, placing Seth's luggage down and talking about unpacking, but Seth had been stuck at the packing of the Pampers he'd just had to witness; it baffled him to think that she'd just glaze over the elephant in the room. "...A-aren't you gonna...Like, get him cleaned up?" He interrupted, eyes wide as saucers. The woman didn't look happy for her nephew to so rudely interrupt her, but she humored him by giving the back of Billy's overalls a couple of firm pats. "There's still room in there." "B-but...He's...*stinky*." Seth mewled, to which Billy didn't look the least bit offended. "We don't waste anything in this house, young man. If a diaper isn't completely full, then it doesn't need to be changed; he's been plenty powdered, so he'll be alright. Isn't that right, sweetie?" She cooed at her son, saving all the firmness of her words for the new boy in the house. Billy giggled and nodded, completely content to wallow in his own filth, like one of the pigs out on the farm. While Seth would be mortified to publicly show such joy in something so degrading, Billy had no such qualms. That'd opened up internal questions of his own in the coming days; his own accidents were just that: accidents. Would he too be forced to squelch around in soggy or soiled undies? Until they were at their limit? Or would they simply be washed instead of disposed of, leaving him to walk around with unsightly stains? Seth recollected on what the answer had ended up being, and how it impacted his present situation; he was watching his cousin fill his overalls, the diaper beneath continuing to swell and bulge with his fetid efforts, but Billy wasn't the only diapered boy in the household. As of a few days ago, the number had gone from two to three. Billy, his baby brother, and now Seth himself. It was frankly a miracle that Seth had gone nearly a full week without any sort of accidents, but such a streak hadn't been made to last. He'd still been wetting the bed, of course, which had quickly been 'solved' by being diapered at night, but he'd been uncharacteristically mindful about keeping himself clean and dry during the daytime. The departure from constant screen time, and the looming threat of punishment, had made Seth take his bodily signals a little more seriously. A great shame had already washed over him for the nighttime debacle, so he'd doubled down on keeping his underwear for at least his waking hours. It had been cartoons that had done him in. The house had a single TV, an older one, and it didn't see much use. It'd taken some begging for Seth to be allowed the treat of some leisure in front of the idiot box, and appropriately, it had turned out to be an idiotic move for him. Billy had joined him on the floor, and the two boys had spent the better half of a morning on Saturday cartoons; it was supposed to be a reward, for all the hard work spent on the chores around the farm, and it really hammered home how much Seth took his cushy life for granted. After going nearly a week without any screens, Seth had been utterly enthralled by the colorful toons before him; after all his efforts to practice mindfulness, he'd flushed it all away in one go. The urge had hardly registered in his brain; maybe he had felt a subtle pressure down below, but he hadn't given it the attention that it deserved. So instead of getting up to use the potty like a big kid, as he'd been so good about recently, there instead grew an earthy aroma that wafted around the two boys. One of his older cousins, Mary, was first to walk by and wrinkle her nose. Her first assumption was that it must be her little brother that did it, and she felt responsible to give his diaper a check, to scope out how full it was. Both Seth and Billy were still in their pajamas, which was a two piece set for Seth and a footed sleeper for Billy; she came over with a smile and gave Billy a pat on the head. "I think someone is a little stinker. Stand up and let me take a look at those Pampers of yours." Billy looked a little surprised and he glanced up at his sister, "I din't make a doo-doo." He put plainly, though he had become aware of the poopy smell, which had been a befuddling quandary. Billy had never been the type to lie about the state of his diaper; quite the opposite, actually, since he always seemed so proud and ready to announce the things he'd done in the diaper. Sometimes though, the smelly simpleton wasn't fully aware of the fudge he'd made in his seat; there were certainly times it would just slip out while he was distracted. "It smells like the barnyard in here, Billy. I'm pretty sure you got boom-boom in your britches. Stand up and let me take a look." She insisted with folded arms. Billy obediently got onto his feet and toddled over to the couch, where he bent himself over the seat, so that his big sister could more easily unbutton the dropseat on the back of his sleeper. This was just something routine for him. Meanwhile, Seth was still fixated on the television screen, and he'd hardly taken notice that his cousin was being investigated for the wafting fumes that Seth himself was responsible for. Mary would unbutton the dropseat and prod the back of Billy's thick diaper, but it was only damp at the moment. Now confused, the older girl would turn her attention to the only other person in the room, for whom the odor must truly belong to. Putting her hands on her hips, still adamant at discovering the provenance of the putrid smell, she cleared her throat: "Ahem! Seth! Anything you wanna tell me?" Hearing his name so loudly, the little boy cocked his head to look at the girl. "...Huh? What?" "Have you got a cow patty in your britches? It stinks in here and I just checked Billy's diaper." Seth got red in the face, "Well, it ain't me!" The denial didn't come from a place of knowledge, but from a place of embarrassment; it was an automatic rejection of any humiliating assertions, whether or not the facts were on his side. As he became privy to what he was being accused of, he suddenly realized that perhaps Mary wasn't far off. There was a squish in his jammies. An icky, sticky, mushy warmth that squelched against his backside. A feeling he was very familiar with, but not enamored by like his cousin. For Billy, it was something to take pride and joy in, but for Seth, it was a mortifying moment of uncomfortable clarity. "Stand up. Let me check your butt." Mary demanded, hands still on her hips. Already feeling the wet sting of tears welling in his eyes, Seth frowned and meekly stood up off the carpet. Without a diaper on, the smell was more pungent and his underpants didn't keep the pantload secured, so the back of his pajama pants immediately sagged with the heft of his accident. She made him take the same degrading position on the couch for a check, and she tugged down his pajamas to see what was already so blatant. His cartoon briefs were bulging in back, and hanging down with the easily discernible shape of a turd. Billy looked over and giggled at the sight, not out of malicious mockery, but out of a playful amusement; to the dummy, it was a sign that he would share more in common with his cousin than he thought. Billy had already been happy to share his diapers at night, and to see another boy around his age that wore them too, but this was even better! "Seth! These britches are ruined! Why din't you get up to use the toilet?" Mary chastised, reaching down and giving the lump a firm push. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to!" The boy had squeaked, squirming his stomach against the cushion of the couch, while the warm payload was pressed up against his rump. Accident or not, his aunt hadn't been very impressed whenever Mary had turned him in. He'd gotten a spanking for ruining his briefs, and then he'd been swaddled into diapers during the day too, just like Billy. And that was what had brought him to today: thickly padded under his dirty overalls, while he watched Billy proudly making a giant stack of logs in his own. The Summer had hardly begun, and 'manure maker' had already been added to his chore list for the farm, just like Billy. There had been no second chances, no three strikes, and thus the next few months would see him degrading into a more diaper worthy state than he'd arrived in. The only question was whether or not he'd be a drooling simpleton by the end: Just like Billy.