Story #129: Boys Will Be Boys (Part 1)

Story #129: Boys Will Be Boys (Part 1) (Part 3 in the 'Trailer Trash' storyline) (Content Tags: Poverty, class exaggeration, messy training pants, forced diaper-sniffing, domination, perceived as dumb) Tatum had been tight-lipped about what the last 'potato party' had entailed, but it'd still been at the forefront of his mind since it'd happened. It wasn't something that one could easily forget, to have his nose forcibly embedded in the back of a poopy diaper and having no choice but to inhale. At first, when it kept coming to mind, he'd associated the experience with repulsion and spite, but that'd been admittedly reactionary. In honesty, the 'tribulation' that he'd been forced to endure hadn't been as bad as he'd initially thought. He knew he should be disgusted by it, since it was hardly sanitary and more importantly was extremely degrading, but he'd actually found some enjoyment out of it. The way it'd made his thoughts feel all fuzzy, like if he was holding his nose over a freshly plucked flower, and the flattery of having his 'friend' so excited to put his nose to Tatum's own messy seat, had all left a positive impression. Be that as it may, Tatum had become good at 'masking' over the years, and he had the social awareness to acknowledge how bad this would be for his image. He was already traipsing around the trailer park in a dirty tank top and a cheap, sagging pair of soiled disposable briefs; he was already being called 'retarded' by his new family members; he was already fighting the stigma of being autistic among an ignorant crowd. The last thing he wanted to do was to prove anyone right about how he was daft in the head, and he figured that happily sniffing a diaper while it was being heavily farted in and filled with poop, well that was about as 'retarded' as it could really get. So Tatum had actually been avoiding Spud the last couple of days. With it having already happened once, Tatum knew that it was highly probable that it'd happen again; he'd made it seem 'okay' by not taking a stronger stance against it at the time. In his defense, Spud was much larger and stronger than him, so he couldn't have stopped it if he wanted, but he should have made his displeasure a lot more blatant. The way things had gone down, Spud probably thought that Tatum was just like him and that they were complete poopy diaper playmates! Without his usual safe haven, Tatum had instead been forced to find alternatives. There were no other real sanctuaries in the trailer park, but that wouldn't stop the boy from trying his hardest to find them. The first day afterward, he'd tried to simply stay home, but that'd quickly become a bust. Billy and Bubba refused to make it viable for Tatum to stay in their room all day, even though the boy had just wanted to lounge around and read some comic books. It was a humble desire, and Tatum didn't think that it was too much to ask for a little respect and peace, but that was only because he didn't yet know his new stepbrothers well enough. Tatum was a lot of things to them: intruder, retard, big baby, stinker, plaything, punching bag...But none of those were 'respected family member'. Even when he was quietly reading to himself, the pair couldn't help themselves but to torment him, as if he were a prop or a toy. "Hey, doo-doo butt! What'cha doin? Pretendin' to read?" Bubba snickered, jumping on the bed behind him. The younger boy wasn't wearing much else than some ratty looking briefs, having not yet dressed for the day. "I'm not pretending! Please leave me alone..." Tatum gritted his teeth, "And don't call me 'doo-doo butt'!" Billy was in the middle of putting on a shirt while the two 'younger' siblings have their tiff. He glanced over with a smirk, "Yeah? Retard thinks he can read? You can't even crap on the toilet!" "I can too! Your dad won't let me, most of the time!" Tatum griped, finding that his semi-ban from using the bathroom was making his accidents all the worse. Frank wouldn't stop him if Tatum's mother was around, but earlier in the day, when she was at work, he deemed it too much trouble to even allow an attempt. Bubba scowled and suddenly put his foot down on the back of the older boy's padded butt. "He's your daddy too! An' yur' too stupid to be doin' that. He said so." Billy laughed, watching the Kindergartner asserting dominance over the boy that was nearly Billy's age. They both knew Tatum was too much of a wuss to really fight back, especially when they were both around. "And if you're too much of one of them tards, then you definitely can't do no reading! You mus' just like them purdy pictures!" "Shut up! Just leave me alone!" The blond fussed, fidgeting under the weight of Bubba's foot. "He ain't got no dookie in his diaper." Bubba announced, grinding the heel of his foot against the back of the padded garment, while sounding disappointed that he hadn't found anything to squish. "He mus' be savin' it for his potato party with Spud. Wants to crap his diaper with his retard friend." Billy snickered. "Nah, mama changed him before she left and I remember him smellin' like poop. I jus' din't think he could go this long without going in his pants again! It's been a couple of hours!" Bubba said, lifting his foot for now. Tatum sat up, to prevent Bubba from stepping on his padded bottom again. "They aren't diapers, and I don't have to go." "Ain't diapers? You pee an' poo in 'em! And how would you know if you hafta go anyways?" Billy smirked, having tossed on a shirt and some mesh shorts. "You're actin' pretty big for your baby britches, Tator-Tot." "Hehe, yeah! They ain't Pull-Ups if you poopie in them all the time!" Bubba nodded his head, "Then they're diapers, jus' like the other poopy babies wear!" "You guys are just too stupid to know the difference! Now leave me alone!" Tatum angrily screeched at the pair, his irritation already reaching the point of yelling. "Stupid?! That's it, you're gonna learn to keep that big mouth shut." Billy growled, walking over to the bed and ripping the comic out of his stepbrother's hands. "We're a lot smarter than you!" That was definitively false. Bubba was barely five, so Tatum was certainly more intelligent than him, and while Billy was only a few months older than Tatum, the gulf there wouldn't typically be very big either. Tatum wasn't a very good student, but his base intellect was definitely better than this trailer park kid that was surrounded by ignorance. There was almost an absurdity to it; the people who lived here definitely held an anti-intellectual view of the world, where being 'learned' was seen as pretentious; even with that being the case, they'd still act as if they knew better than people with actual knowledge or they'd openly revel in their own ignorance. If not for the disposable briefs or the autism diagnosis, then the pair probably would have called Tatum a 'sissy nerd', rather than calling him a pantspooping retard. Perhaps that was why they were so hard on him about his diagnosis, because he otherwise acted like he was better than him, since he'd been from the suburbs. They were more incentivized to degrade him, because they subconsciously resented his higher class. "Yeah, super-duper smarterer! We got big brains, and you got...Uhh..." Bubba put a finger to his chin and got off the bed as he considered his insult. Having his eureka moment, he walked over to the diaper pail and opened it up; he grabbed the top balled-up garment, which had been what had been changed after breakfast. Bubba held up the loaded pair and smirked, "This is what yer' brain is! Just a big poopy diaper! You got poo fer' brains!" Billy laughed loudly and nodded along, finding that the juvenile comparison was on-point and hilarious. "Haha, yeah! That's why you're such a stupid idiot, cuz' you got one of those up there!" The blond seethed and blushed at the immature joke, but he also found it embarrassing to see his little stepbrother holding his prior pair of poopy trainers, as if he was asserting his superiority by displaying the dummy's failures. "I d-do not! You guys just don't know what you're talking about! You're the ones with brains like that!" He again shouted, getting worked up from the confrontation. "Nuh-uh! Who's the one that was wearin' this?" Bubba waved the garment around and walked back over to the bed, "Don't you remember breakfast?" It had only been a couple of hours, so how could Tatum forget? He'd woken up wet, which was just the norm, and he'd gone into the kitchen in just his soggy trainers. Breakfast for him had been a large bowl of oatmeal, a cup of milk, and a pair of poptarts. The only one who'd had anything that resembled a nice and nutritious breakfast had been Frank, with his bacon and eggs. Frank had been talking to his mother about how school was coming back up, and how he'd have to take the boys to get registered, if she couldn't get the day off. That'd made Tatum happy to hear at first, at least the part about school almost starting, but then the topic had turned sour; Frank started talking about placement and how their district here was different than what she'd had Tatum enrolled in before. "They'll probably want to put him in the 'slow kid' class, on account of his brain disability. They can't be havin' kids in the normal class that are shitting in their pants." Frank only abstained from using derogatory terms on Tatum whenever the boy's mother was present. "I'm not slow!" He'd argued with furrowed brows, feeling sensitive about the topic, especially since his new family had been beating it into his head constantly about how dumb he was. "I know, darlin'. Simmer down and eat your breakfast." His mother had replied, giving him a pat on the head, to which his stepbrothers had barely contained their laughter at. Frank had briefly glared at the boy; he didn't take kindly to being talked back at, least of all from his dimwitted stepson. Still, he kept his composure and didn't let it derail him. "That'll be for the school to decide. They'll probably want to test him and see where they should put him, but I'm betting he'll be put in the same class as that neighbor kid with autism." "His name's Spud." Billy clarified with a snarky grin, "Him and Tator have been playin' together a whole lot." "Yeah, had that boy's older sister thinkin' I was looking for daycare for him; had to tell her that they were just playing and I wasn't about to be payin' for none of that." Frank scoffed, taking a sip of his coffee. "Oh, honey, why didn't you tell me you made a new friend?" His mother asked, sounding happy to hear that her special little boy was adapting to his new home. "And he's just like you?" Billy giggled again, "Yeah, they're two peas in a pod!" Tatum's face got red, "N-no we're not! He's really dumb an' I was just playing with him to be nice! He likes to eat boogers and poop in his pants, like a big baby!" "Sounds like the only difference is that he's got bigger Pampers than you." Frank dryly commented. "Might not stay that way if you keep fillin' them britches of yours, boy." Flustered beyond what he could manage, especially with the idle threat of being put in actual diapers like Spud, the blond couldn't stop his body from reacting. "I-I don't need Pampers!" The boy shouted, standing up from his chair and slamming his hands against the table angrily. **BBBLLLLAAAAAART--PHBBBT--CRACKLE!** His face was red in rage, his teeth gritted together, and he hardly appeared aware of what had just happened. In all his fury, his bowels had unleashed themselves, and a large sticky load had pushed itself out into his soggy training pants; the firm steamer crackled out past his buttcheeks and made a large lump in back. "Daddy! Tator just did a huge poopie on himself!" Bubba loudly pointed out. "I can see it! Like he's got a baked potato in there!" The younger boy snorted. "I think we could all hear that one. What were you saying before, boy? About not needing Pampers or the slow classes?" Frank had a stern look on his face. "From where you're standing, with a big turd in those Pull-Ups, I think you might be mistaken." Tatum grimaced, realizing once the rage had subsided, that he indeed had a large turd nestled in the back of his disposable briefs. As much as he knew that he wasn't an imbecile, he still couldn't do anything about the toileting accidents that he'd become so prone to having. That smoldering lump, which had already faintly stained the white material of the cheap 'briefs', was the biggest obstacle between him and any level of respect. "Now, Frank, I don't think he needs to be wearin' any Pampers. He's been having accidents, but he's still trying; aren't you, sweetie?" The boy's mother cut in, coming behind her son to take a look at the damage. Tatum sniffled and nodded, holding back tears of humiliation, which he'd felt had become a more common occurrence too. "Y-yeah..." "He didn't used to have so many, so I'm sure he'll bounce back eventually. For now, he still needs a fightin' chance at using the potty, don't he?" She added, pulling back the waistband to peek in at the 'present' that her son had made her before work. Frank shook his head, "Fine. As long as he's trying to get pottytrained, and as long as it don't become a problem for the furniture." That should have been a moment that Tatum spoke up and called Frank out on his hypocrisy; Frank had told him that he wasn't allowed to use the toilet if his trainers weren't clean, and Frank also refused to change him for the eight-plus hour period his mom was gone, which meant once he'd had any sort of issue early on, the rest of the day would see him banned from the bathroom. That 'rule' itself was also just a facade, since Frank's comments and attitude were more indicative of the fact that he didn't think Tatum should have *any* access. The furniture line was also as big of a load as the one currently warming his buns; all the furniture in the trailer was already awful, with myriad drink spills and cigarette burns, so one leaky Pull-Up wouldn't move the dial all that much on their quality. Tatum hadn't called him out though. Instead, he'd finished his breakfast, which meant sitting in his mushy pile, and then he toddled off to the bedroom to get changed into a new one for the day. He'd thought to defend himself during the change, to advocate for himself, but he'd just felt too small and defeated. And now Bubba was hanging the messy garment in front of his face to mock him, and it was far more effective than the trailer park kid could have hoped. "Daddy says if you keep doo-dooing yourself, then he's gonna make you wear Pampers! Jus' like Spud, or Scooter, or Nash..." Bubba listed off name after name, but it didn't create any sense of solidarity for Tatum. Spud was a low-functioning mushbrain, and the rest of the kids being named were six and under, and whose parents had been too neglectful to work on pottytraining or any other rudimentary skills. Nobody on the list felt like a true peer, and it instead made Tatum think about how lowly he must really be. "They're gonna put you in the retard room too, just like Spud. Ya'll can have potato parties every day!" Billy snickered, imagining his snobby stepbrother being made to rub elbows with a bunch of drooly pantsfillers. "Nuh-uh! I passed my classes last year; I'm not stupid!" The blond seethed, finding that prospect even more of an affront than the diaper dilemma. "Oh yeah? Then why'd you poopie yourself? Mister smarty-pants?" Bubba thrusted the balled up trainers closer, and Tatum could basically feel the fumes radiating off of them. "At least the teachers didn't say that *I* should repeat Kindergarten! How can you even fail that?" He suddenly blurted out, directing the barb right at the younger boy, which made his eyes bulge. It hadn't been something he was supposed to hear, but it hadn't really come as a shock either; he'd overheard his mom and Frank discussing it the other night, and how it had been strongly suggested due to Bubba's inadequate grasp on all the material. Frank had vehemently been against holding the boy back, since he saw it as a humiliation to both Bubba and himself. Billy looked surprised too, and he wouldn't have believed Tatum, if Bubba's reaction hadn't been so personally offended. Bubba narrowed his eyes and became furious, "O-oh yeah?! Well you're still a diaper-dooker with a poopy diaper for a brain!" Then to emphasize his anger, he suddenly shoved the back of the soiled trainers against his stepbrother's nose. If only Bubba knew what he'd been up to the day before, then he would have realized how ineffectual this actually was as an assault. It was still embarrassing though, and uncomfortable when pressed this hard, so Tatum made swift use of his arms to swat his stepbrother away. The three boys were left glaring at eachother, and the brief silence was broken by the booming voice of Frank in the other room. "I've had it with you boys yelling, go play outside!" Billy smiled mischievously, "Yeah, Bubba. Let's go play outside; we can show Tator-Tot some fun spots."