🕑 Added 2025-02-11 04:09:17 +0000 UTC
Tale #148: Babysitter's Baby Sister
(Content Tags: Slice of life, bedwetting protagonist, two diaper boys, forced soiling, humiliation, bullying, domination)
The white, opaque plastic pants were so tautly stretched over his ample padding that they were more akin to a diaper cover; nearly without any creases, as they had been so thoroughly filled out, even while the diaper beneath remained as tidy as it'd been whenever he was put into it. The seat had a decal of 'Lightning McQueen' plastered on it as the sole print, which was clearly displayed from the lack of any additional clothes.
It was a typical sight for Oliver to be the center of, his shaggy blond hair giving the whole look a certain cherubic quality. At eight years old, almost nine, he still captured the idyllic youth of a boy much younger. The only betrayal of this imagery was the sassy and often sardonic tone that he gave off. Additionally, Oliver was known for his want to be seen as more mature than his age called for.
A bit ironic, but fairly understandable. That was what most boys his age wanted, at least on some level; children who would seek to reap the benefits of maturity, to gain the privileges and respect, but without also taking on the added responsibility that came with age.
Funnily enough, Oliver hadn't given the diapers much thought in the past, at least in relation to what he desired. They were a blindingly bright symbol of immaturity, but he'd always been able to rationalize them as an undergarment that held no symbolic baggage or debt.
He wore them because he was a bedwetter; always had been, and with no end in sight. Diapers had been an unbroken continuum since infancy for him, since even as he became pottytrained at an appropriate age, his bedtime competency had never followed suit.
His little brother, a six year old named Toby, was in a similar boat. In fact, the two brothers matched most nights, and tonight was no exception to that; Toby was clad in the same combination of diaper and plastic pants, though the 'Cars' decal that his rump was adorned with was instead 'Mater'.
Aside from their mild differences in size, the two boys looked pretty similar to one another, with Toby simply having a little less hair and in a slightly darker shade of blond. Like most siblings, they got along most of the time, but obviously fell into bouts of bickering at times.
Their parents were going out for the evening, and their usual babysitter had been booked solid, which had meant having to reach out for another option. Said option would end up being another teenage girl that their usual babysitter had vouched for: Veronica.
An unfamiliar babysitter wasn't ideal, but Oliver could have been fine with it, if not for the unrealized connection that had been made: Veronica had a little sister named Beth, and Beth was a girl in Oliver's class. One whom he did not get along with very well.
Oliver wasn't fully privy to this beforehand; his mom had mentioned that their babysitter would be bringing over their younger sibling for the evening, as the babysitting job was last minute and she was already watching her, but he hadn't considered it would be anyone he knew. Before finding that out, he was still sour about it, but he wasn't panicked.
Whenever the doorbell had rung and the pair had arrived, that was when he started to panic about it.
At school, Oliver was seen as being responsible, level-headed, and respectable. He wasn't on the level of being a dork, but he also wasn't anywhere near being a 'cool kid'; Oliver was somewhere in the middle. As was his mission statement, he craved to be seen as something more than a little kid, which when compared to his fellow male peers, he stood out handily. If he was militarily minded, then he would have been an obvious candidate for ROTC as he got older.
This personality, or rather this persona, often directly clashed with the way that Beth was. Beth was a bossy girl that also liked to act as if she was older than she really was; her domineering attitude, which was magnitudes more aggressive than Oliver had ever been capable of, craved to put her 'lessers' in their place.
Beth was a smart girl, maybe even the smartest in the class, but she wasn't some demure nerd in glasses. She was loud, crass, and often very manipulative; she derived joy from playing her classmates like chess pieces on a board, as if they were meaningless pawns that existed only to bring her amusement.
The clash came from the fact that Oliver was adamant about not playing her twisted little games, nor did he allow himself to be browbeaten into obeying her orders. He had the sense to identify the bad faith that she exuded, and enough self-respect to not become the lackey of some cootie-carrying creep. He didn't actively antagonize her, nor did he make a habit out of interfering with her sadistic schemes, but his lack of participation was enough of a crime to her to earn her spite.
So she had been quite honestly the last person that he wanted to see coming through that door. No part of him wanted to spend an evening with a monster like her, and he knew instantly that her mere presence would present a litany of problems for him.
Veronica had been informed from their usual babysitter about everything she would need to know about their care. Their parents were rather strict and unintentionally infantilizing at the same time, which itself was a big reason why Oliver felt the need to be seen as 'big'.
They could only watch G-rated content, they could only play E-rated games, they weren't allowed to play outside without supervision, their screen time was limited, they weren't allowed to use even the starter pack of baby swears, their weekend bedtime wasn't much later than their normal bedtime, they had to use sippy cups outside of the kitchen, and they were both to be diapered prior to bed.
The vast majority of that list, which itself wasn't even fully comprehensive, would already earn the scorn of the vicious girl coming through that doorway. The last item though, was worse than everything else put together!
Diapers. There was a very high likelihood that Oliver's need for them would be highlighted this evening, since his parents wouldn't be returning until after the boys' bedtime had already passed. Toby wouldn't care, since he didn't know Beth and Veronica would just be an authority figure for the evening, but Oliver could see his reputation crumbling in premonitions of the near future.
The early part of the evening went poorly, but it was manageable; Oliver did his best to try distancing himself from Beth, focusing his efforts on acting as if he was watching his little brother, but the bratty girl continued to inject herself into the equation. She would grin whenever she learned a new rule that her supposedly mature classmate had to follow, and she'd make mean-spirited quips about how he had to follow all the same rules as his baby brother.
Oliver would try to keep her at bay, to keep her from getting comfortable with bullying him in his own home, but it was a fool's errand at best. There would be a lot of back and forth between the two, with Oliver resolute in not giving her an inch, but the end result was inevitable.
Over an hour before bedtime, Veronica would talk about putting on a movie for the kids, as something to wind down with. More accurately, she wanted to talk to her boyfriend on the phone, and the television screen was the most obvious candidate to select as the interim babysitter in her stead. The movie of choice, from their strictly curated selection of tapes, was to be a classic by the name of 'We're Back! A Dinosaur's Story'.
It was a movie that the two brothers could always agree on, as they were both fascinated by dinosaurs, and they'd already recently watched several of the 'Land Before Time' movies.
Beth was less impressed, thinking that dinosaurs were stupid and that the movie was going to be on the infantile side, by how the cover appeared. Coming from a household of only women, and her only sibling being nearly twice her age, she was instead surrounded by more 'mature' film choices like 'Titanic' or 'Black Beauty', with the idea that cartoons were for babies.
Oliver's arguments in favor of the movie and in favor of animated features in general were to fall flat, since Veronica had another announcement to make:
"Before we get the movie started, why don't we go ahead and get you two ready for bed?"
It was a quarter past eight, but Veronica had offered to let the pair exceed their posted bedtime if they went ahead and got dressed for bed early. It would have seemed like an adequate deal, if not for the major thing that getting ready for bed entailed:
"Ollie, sweetie, I need you to tell me where your mommy and daddy keep the diapers."
Beth gawked at the statement, apparently having not been informed by her sister about everything on the agenda for the evening. Oliver would meekly nod and mumble something about showing her, though his face quickly reddened and his eyes were burning a hole in the floor below him.
The two brothers shared a bedroom, and with their waistline being fairly similar due to Toby's pudgy baby fat, they shared the same size of diapers as well. So with his head hung low, Oliver led the teenager up to their room and to the dresser drawer that held the garbs of their degradation.
Beth thankfully didn't try to tag along for this part, and Oliver was hoping that she thought the diapers were only for Toby, but such hope would swiftly become moot. Whenever Veronica inquired about pajamas, it was Toby who piped up about how they didn't usually wear pajamas over their diapers whenever it was as warm as it had been.
To be fair to Toby, he was right. Both boys ran hot to begin with, and the plastic pants over their diapers only made them run hotter, so pajamas were absolute overkill. Oliver didn't usually have any qualms with this, since they were in the comfort of their own home, but now that they had company, it was an issue of the highest caliber.
He softly fussed about it and even attempted an argument about how Beth would be mean about it, but Veronica didn't seem to believe her baby sister to be capable of such cruelties, and thus she brushed off Oliver's concerns without so much as a second thought. Oliver then said that he'd rather go ahead and stay in his room for the rest of the evening, but that wasn't something that she was willing to give to him either.
Veronica had few babysitting gigs under her belt, so she was paranoid about doing things by the book, and that meant keeping her charges grouped together for ease of access. Toby wanted to watch the movie downstairs, since he didn't care about being seen in his diaper, which meant Oliver would have to follow.
Beth wasn't nice about it, just as Oliver had assumed, but she waited until her sister had gone off to the kitchen to make them some popcorn. The little girl had assumed it would only be Toby that would come down sporting Pampers, which she would have still laughed about, but now that she saw Oliver was in them too, she could barely contain her gleeful amusement.
"Oh my gosh! Your mommy and daddy still make you wear *diapers* to bed? Like a *baby*? You pee your bed still?" Her words were like venomous fangs striking relentlessly at his fragile ego, with each comment making him feel smaller and smaller.
"S-shut up, Beth! I-I only wear them to make Toby feel better about wearing them..." He fibbed with red cheeks as he strutted into the living room with rosy cheeks.
"Yeah, right, sure." She snickered, clearly not believing a word that he had to say. If not for his poor acting, then because it was more beneficial to not take his word at face value.
Toby had already settled himself on the blanket pallet that had been set on the floor in front of the television, so he was beyond being a part of their little scuffle. He wouldn't have been much help anyway; he didn't have the social sense to understand what his big brother was trying to preserve, nor did he have the deceptive acumen to maintain his brother's lies. He just laid on his tummy, with his padded rump upturned and his chin supported by his palms.
Veronica returned with the big bowl of popcorn and a tray of cups, with two of which were the sippy cups that Oliver had hoped to not have to show. She placed it all down on the coffee table and turned the movie on with the remote, before mentioning that she was going to make a phone call in the other room.
If Oliver had been a little more assertive, then he might have requested for her to stay, so that her supervision would keep Beth in check, but he was already too flustered to say anything. So he instead got down on the floor with his little brother and tried to enjoy the movie, even as Beth continued to make snarky little comments at his expense.
Midway through the movie, once Oliver had gotten comfortable and invested, he started to feel a gurgle brewing in his lower gut. They had eaten pizza for dinner, which he liked, but which had a knack for twisting up his insides. His baby brother didn't seem to have the same lactose issues, so he was still happily glued to the television.
Oliver could feel gas knocking at his back door, but he kept his cheeks clenched tight; he was familiar enough with his own body to know that farts were not to be trusted so readily on pizza night. Instead, he sat up with a crinkle and softly put a hand on his bare tummy. It was annoying to have been diapered before bedtime, for this very reason, because now he would have to go get Veronica's help to use the potty!
As he quietly stood up and started to walk away from the screen, his bully turned guest was quick to follow:
"Where ya going, diaper boy? Does baby Ollie need his diapee changed?" She teased.
He tried to ignore the taller girl, but that just made her get angry. She suddenly reached forward and grabbed the waistband of his plastic pants, stretching them and stopping him in his tracks. "Hey! I'm talking to you, diaperbutt."
The abrupt stop made him lose control for a brief moment and a wet fart sputtered to life in his puffy padding. The girl cringed and started to laugh: "Hahaha! Ewwww! Did you just POOP?"
The sound was certainly juicy and sloppy enough to point in that direction, but Oliver was thankfully still clean. He got red in the face again and cocked his head back to glare at the girl.
"No! Let go of me! I need to go use the bathroom!" He was clear and concise, thinking stupidly that he could still act maturely and have that reciprocated by the awful little brat.
"Bathroom? You're already wearing your potty, aren't you?" She giggled, keeping her fingers hooked on the waistband. "Only babies wear diapers, and babies just potty in their diapers."
Her sly grin was evidence that she understood fully that her own words were nonsense; she knew full well that the diaper was intended to keep his sheets dry, and not as a protective measure against being unpottytrained.
Oliver narrowed his eyes at her, "I'm *not* a baby! I only wear them to sleep. I still use the bathroom like a big kid."
It was mortifying that he even had to clarify that point, and even worse was the fact that he had essentially just confirmed that he indeed was still a bedwetter, though that had been pretty obvious to Beth already. She didn't release her grip on him though; if anything, she only tightened it.
"Well...Maybe you *do* use them like your own personal porta-potty. Maybe that's something that you're gonna do tonight...Like, right now."
Oliver looked dumbfounded, "What are you talking about?"
Her smile got broader, "I'll make it really simple for you, diaper boy. You're going to go potty in your pants, just like a stupid little baby, or else I'm gonna tell everyone at school about what I saw tonight."
Oliver knew immediately that it wasn't some idle threat, but a stalwart promise. Beth wasn't above playing dirty; she wasn't above destroying someone for a laugh, and she had grown to have an especially irate attitude toward Oliver in particular. If she was threatening to reveal his nighttime garments, then he could believe that she meant it.
"P-please, Beth...Don't make me do that..."
"I'm not making you do anything, Ollie. I'm just letting you know what might happen if you don't start listening to me."
Oliver bit his lip, "But...I... It's a number two..."
She laughed a little bit, "So? Babies make poopies in their diapee every day. That's what those giant Pampers are for, aren't they?"
He would have argued that his diaper was solely for bedwetting, but he knew that she wouldn't care about the distinction. A diaper was a diaper, right? The boy hung his head and slowly nodded.
"Good! Why don't you go lay back on your little blankie and watch your dumb dinosaur movie? Forget all about using the big boy potty."
She let go of his waistband and allowed him to turn back around to return to his spot next to Toby. The younger boy had been totally oblivious to their conversation, and he'd remain blissfully unaware until the fetid fumes of Oliver's dookie diaper became overwhelming.
Oliver laid back down on the floor, with his padded rump facing upward, and he tried to forget about the years of pottytraining that would otherwise disallow him to carry out the cruel plot that Beth had concocted. It was tough at first for him to become physically comfortable with the idea, but his bubbling gut had only become more volatile as time had gone on.
Trying to be quiet and discreet, he puffed out his cheeks and closed his eyes. It took a few pushes to get things moving, but a sticky steamer began to crash like a slow moving freight train into the padded confines of his taut babypants. It was a disgusting feeling that left his buttcheeks feeling greasy, and warmth radiated across his bottom as the mushy log crammed itself so forcefully that it began to flatten.
Lightning McQueen was no longer neatly conveyed, the image of the character now becoming somewhat distorted from the subtle, lumpy elevation that his upturned plastic pants had been given. The smell was very faint, thanks to the dual layers of protection, but it still left Toby wrinkling his nose at what he thought was a fart.
Very soon it would be discovered to be more than a fart though, and then Oliver would have much to answer for. Little did he know that this was only the start of things.
