Tale #123: Fostering Hope, Reaping Despair

Tale #123: Fostering Hope, Reaping Despair (Content Tag: Psychopathic antagonist, physical and emotional abuse, bullying, humiliation, dark, antagonist is younger than the protagonist, messing, wetting, forced diaper-sniffing) "Don't forget our new little rule. No getting out of that bed until you make a nice big poop in your Goodnite." Calvin shouldn't have even been wearing Goodnites for their intended purpose, let alone what this little monster was forcing him to do. It was wrong and it was sick, but Calvin didn't have a choice. Sitting on his bed in the soggy garment, he had to lift his rump and start to push. Tears of shame filled his eyes as a lump slowly began to form in the bottom of the garment. It was yet another escalation that he'd recently had to endure under extreme duress. The warm steamer inched its way out and made a gross sounding plop as it fully dropped into the bottom of the pull-up. "That's a good little baby. Now, I want you to sit on it and really smear it around." Calvin whimpered softly and lowered his bottom onto the bed, which began to squish and ooze the mass around the back of the Goodnite. He gyrated his bottom around in the fresh muck, while tears openly started to stream down his face. "There we go, all ready to start the day!" That was his younger foster-brother, Hope. The kid was barely out of Kindergarten and he was calling the shots around here; Calvin had three years and an obvious size advantage, but he was absolutely terrified of Hope. Hope was a monster in human flesh. Calvin hadn't been all that excited to learn he was getting a foster sibling. It'd been a few months ago that his parents had brought the younger boy into their home. Calvin's concerns back then had been about sharing a space with the rugrat, or keeping him out of his toys; there had also been the childish worry that another child would take the parental affections that Calvin felt he alone deserved. His anxieties had reflected a realistic view of the situation. He couldn't have possibly known about what the real dangers would be. Hope had appeared to be as average as any normal six year old would be, and he'd been excited to have a family, even if it was temporary. Calvin's parents had never seen what Hope was capable of. Hope was manipulative and clever; far more clever then Calvin was. They didn't know what evil bubbled right beneath that cheeky visage. One thing that Calvin had initially been amused by, whenever such an emotional response was still valid, was that Hope wasn't fully pottytrained. His parents had told him to be nice about it, and that Hope was obviously from a bad environment that had given him such a delay, but Calvin was as immature as any other third-going-into-fourth grade boy, and he was upset about having to share a room with a *baby*. Calvin hadn't hidden how he felt either. He didn't outright tell Hope that he didn't want him there, but he openly threatened that there would be trouble if Hope made a nuisance of himself, and he'd brazenly mocked him for his lack of toileting. "If you're gonna poop yourself, then you gotta leave the room. No poopy diapers in here, got it?" The little boy hadn't whined or fussed about it, instead quietly nodding his head and looking into Calvin's eyes with an unsettling depth. Hope's gaze was like looking into the abyss, or like that of a hungering animal. They were the eyes of a monster. Those first few days were actually very calm. Hope acted normally and Calvin's parents were swiftly enamored with his cuteness, while Calvin was starting to feel some small pangs of jealousy. He tried to be mature about it, since Hope was obviously a helpless little kid that probably wasn't used to so much kindness, but it almost felt like Hope was trying to make him jealous on purpose. Like it was performative and not sincere. Like he didn't actually feel any warmth when such rich parental love was being heaped onto him. Later that first week, that was when Hope would show Calvin the kind of kid he was. That would be the first time that Calvin really understood what fear was, and that monsters weren't just creatures in the closet or under the bed. Calvin had been laying on the floor of his bedroom to play with his action figures, while his dad was at work and his mother was outside in the garden. Hope had come in at some point, humming a little tune to himself, but Calvin was ignoring him. The younger boy was wearing little more than his diaper and an oversized shirt that he'd taken from Calvin's closet. Hope stopped just shy of where his foster sibling was lounging and stopped humming just long enough to rip a gnarly fart into the back of his puffy padding. It was wet, it was sloppy, it was loud, and it almost immediately stunk. "Ugh! Nasty! Get outta here with that! I said no pooping your diaper in here! This is a no-baby zone!" Calvin fussed. "Why don't you make me stop?" Hope challenged, dropping his meekness and lifting his leg to toot again. "I'm bigger than you! I can toss your stinky butt outta here!" Calvin warned as he started to sit up on his knees. "No, I don't think so." Hope calmly replied with a smile, before raising his knee and suddenly kicking Calvin directly in the gut. It wasn't a nudge or a playful little kick, it was Hope using as much force as he could to force the older boy onto his back with a sick feeling in his stomach. It'd knocked the air out of Calvin, so he could only groan and put his hands on his tummy to nurse his pain. Hope wasted no time in repositioning himself right above the moaning boy, in a perfect spot to render any sense of leverage moot for Calvin. The little boy bent his knees and let the bottom of his white padding hover above Calvin's face. "You don't like the smell of a poopy diaper, huh? Don't want your room to stink? That's too bad. This is *my* room now and you just get to live in it." His tone was vicious and domineering, which was a farcry from the chipper little boy that'd been so happy to be here. "Ughh...No it's not...What are you doing?" "I'm punishing you for being naughty. You don't get to tell me what to do; I tell you what to do." He lowered his knees a little further and let a gassy blast out. The fart sputtered wetly into the back of his diaper and Calvin started to squirm. "Eww! You're being gross! Get up!" Hope ignored the older boy and pushed harder. His effort was rewarded with the crackling of something solid pressing into the padded confines of the infantile garment. Calvin stared in horror, as a nasty lump began to grow in the diaper. Hope got lower and rubbed the warm lump against the older boy's nose a few times, before outright sitting down. Calvin smelled the fresh load from far too close, but he couldn't easily breathe. He began to wiggle around more intensely, his complaints muffled by the bulk of the gament, while Hope went back to humming the chipper tune from earlier. "No air, just stinky diaper fumes. You must be getting dizzy, weak." Hope casually predicted as he gyrated his rump and let out another sloppy fart. "I bet you're getting used to the way it smells though. Maybe you'll think twice what you said about my poopy diapers in your room." Things were getting dim and Calvin was growing just as weak as the little boy said. He felt suffocated and he was losing his grip with conciousness. And then Hope stood back up and stepped away. "Next time you make me mad, I won't be so nice. You got that? *Little* bro?" Calvin was too busy coughing and rubbing at his nose to respond, but he weakly nodded his head, still unsure exactly what had just happened. Hope had been vicious yet decisive; he wasn't holding himself back but he also wasn't swinging blind. This disgusting act of bullying could have seriously injured Calvin in more than just his pride! Calvin would be more wary over his foster brother for the rest of the day. He was too embarrassed by the circumstances to tattle about what Hope had done, but he knew it'd be a problem if Hope kept trying to harass him. The kid acted so sweet for Calvin's parents, and that meant it likely wouldn't be believable if he wanted to tattle in the first place. Later that night, when the two were put to bed, Calvin laid awake in the darkness. The only light was the dim glow of the night light between the two beds. "You're a bedwetter from now on. Pee in your bed." Came Hope's voice from the other bed. The assertion and demand had come out of nowhere. Calvin wasn't even sure that he'd heard it right, because it sounded so crazy. "W-what? What are you talking about?" "Pee in your bed or I'll pee in it for you. You're a bedwetter now." Calvin cringed and sat up in his bed, "I'm not, though! Is this some kind of joke? I don't think it's very funny." There was a creaking from the younger boy's bed and Calvin could hear his diaper rustling as he moved across the room. He saw Hope illuminated by the nightlight, and for the first time, there was an ugly frown on his face. Hope leaned over and grabbed Calvin by the sleeve of his pajamas. "I'm not joking with you. I make the rules now, so if I tell you to pee in your bed, then you better start doing it." Calvin felt genuinely intimidated, and all he could remember was how he'd been effectively assaulted by the boy earlier in the day. Be that as it may, he didn't find that a good enough reason to wet himself like a toddler. "No! Now go away before I call mom and dad!" Those dead eyes burned like embers. Hope leaned in even closer and whispered: "I'll stab you and your whole family to death if you don't do what I tell you to do." It was such a psychotic threat, and if it had come from any other little kid, then it would have been easy to brush off as something exaggerated. Hope sounded serious though, like he knew exactly the gravity of what he was saying and genuinely had the intent to see those words through. Calvin had never been so scared in his life. Warmth began to spread along his crotch and then it pooled underneath his rump. He was complying, but with how frightened he was, it might not have been fully intentional. Whether he meant to or not, Hope seemed satisfied. That smile returned, "That's a good little baby. You keep being good and you won't have anything to worry about." The boy caressed Calvin's hair, like he was a dog, and then crinkled off back to his bed. As if he hadn't just threatened to exterminate an entire family over Calvin wetting his bed. Calvin could hardly sleep a wink that night. Wetting his bed before he fell asleep became a nightly ritual for Calvin. By the third night in a row, his mother had awkwardly pulled him aside and shown him that she'd picked up some Goodnites for him. She wasn't sure why he'd started doing it again, but it didn't seem too abnormal to question deeply. Plenty of boys his age still wet the bed. The Goodnites were embarrassing, but they were actually a far better deal for Calvin. He still had to pee them before he could go to sleep, and Hope made sure to watch, but at least he would no longer have to try sleeping in a literal puddle. Things would continue on like this for a little longer, before Hope decided to escalate things. They had been out at the park with their dad, and Calvin felt he was able to enjoy himself. Whenever his parents were around, Hope acted normal, which cut down on potential threats he may endure. Their father had walked away to get juice boxes from the bag, while the two boys were climbing the plastic fort. "Pee your pants, Calvin. Before your dad comes back." Calvin gulped and looked at the younger boy. He knew better than to try arguing. He hopped down onto the mulch and took a deep breath; he'd gotten pretty good at wetting himself on purpose, but he'd never done it during the day before or in public for that matter. Slowly, a wet stain started to form around the crotch of his khaki shorts. He could feel the urine trickling down his legs and soaking into his socks as well, which amplified the feeling of shame that had filled him. "Okay guys, I got you some juice to-- buddy! What happened? Why didn't you tell me that you had to go?" Calvin was tearing up and sniffling, while Hope popped a straw into his juice and was happily grinning. Hope started to make that request more frequently, but he wasn't content to keep it so simple and plain either. After peeing his pants multiple times, his mother came home with a fresh pack of underwear and mention of getting Calvin to go see a doctor. Calvin already knew the doctor wouldn't find any problems, but he nodded along anyways. His mom asked him to go try on his new briefs and he went to do just that. Hope kept his mouth shut for now, except to make comments about the 'cute prints' that Calvin's 'mommy' had picked out for him. Later that evening, the family would go out to dinner at a Burger King with a play area. The pair ate and then were encouraged to go have some fun with the other kids. Calvin felt just slightly too old to be crawling around tubes and jumping into ball pits, but he still had a lot of fun. Until Hope grabbed his hand and looked up at him with that evil smile. "You're going to poop yourself now. Poop in those new undies that your mommy just bought for you." Calvin froze, nearly gasping at the new demand. It'd been bad enough to be wetting himself, but soiling himself felt like a whole different echelon. Hope sensed his reluctance and squeezed his hand more tightly. "Do it. Do it, or else you know what I'll do." "I'll do it! I'll do it!" Calvin closed his eyes and focused on pushing down on his lower gut. He had to pretend like he was on the toilet, but he quickly realized that this was something a little harder than peeing himself. There was a much greater mental block in place that stopped him from immediately evacuating. Calvin squatted lower, bending his knees and starting to gently rub his own stomach with his free hand. The boy pushed and grunted, and he could feel that something was there, but it just didn't want to come out. “You're taking too long.” Hope calmly stated, before reeling back his fist and sucker-punching Calvin right in the belly. It was a miracle that he didn't throw up on himself from the exceedingly violent strike. Instead, it looked to do the trick, as a large mushy mass dropped square into the back of his briefs. Calvin groaned and keeled over, farting softly as some remnant lumps plopped on out. The disgust he felt for messing himself was overshadowed by the pain of getting punched on a full stomach. “There we go...A nice big one. Now why don't we go back and see how long it takes for your parents to realize that their big boy made a big mess of his new underwear?” Hope led him back into the dining area and put back on the mask of an innocent little boy. It wasn't very long before the smell of poop became too apparent to ignore, and their mother mentioned giving Hope a change before they went home. Hope denied that he'd gone and the woman gave his diaper a check, seeming confused whenever it became obvious he wasn't the culprit. That only left Calvin. “...Calvin! How could you? I just bought you those briefs!” She chastised him, after giving him the same waistband check that she'd given his foster-brother. A few more scattered accidents like that, and Calvin was wearing his Goodnites all the time now. The trip to the urologist had been a bust, much like Calvin already knew it would be, and it'd instead been suggested that they take him to a therapist. That was a little harder to set up though, so for the time being, Calvin was just having these 'accidents' at Hope's discretion. That's where the new morning rule had come from. A new escalation from the psychopath. Calvin wasn't allowed to leave his bed until he pushed out a fresh load in his pants, so that it appeared he was now pooping the bed as well as wetting it. The only time he'd tried to break that rule, since he'd woken up late, and Hope had violently shoved his head into the diaper pail. Calvin wasn't a rule-breaker. He couldn't afford to be, not while his family was fostering Hope.