Tale #163: A Marked Man (Part 1: The Mad Libs)

His argument died in his throat, because as soon as the words were supposed to arrive, what came instead was a gassy outburst in the backside of his thick padding. Those emerald eyes widened again, though for very different reasons, and his mouth hung open once more too; this was a different kind of shock for him to undergo, where he was getting a real chance to recognize just how far he’d fallen in the last ten minutes. It was exactly the sort of humbling experience that Vivian thought he was in desperate need of, if he was ever going to mature for real. “Uh-oh! Sounds like someone has to make a big present for mommy, doesn’t it?” The woman teased, giving Calvin a pat on the bottom. “N-no, I...Please don’t make me…” “Make you? I’m not making you do anything, sweetie. That’s all you.” He clutched the back of his pants with both hands, as if he could stop the avalanche from proceeding, but it was a horribly futile effort. The flatulence didn’t let up, only rippling louder and wetter than before, and the boy began to whine in a shameful indignation. It was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to regain some semblance of control over his bowels, but that kind of control had been plucked from him, like a feather from a bird. His pleas would go on for another few moments, but when push came to shove, they were meaningless words that did nothing to impact the world around him. Those little knees started to bend, whether he wanted them to or not, and that thickly padded bottom started to poke outward. Even if he didn’t know what to do, his body clearly did, and manual control was being stripped from him. A wet crackling sound emanated from the diaper, and Vivian gave a wry smile at what she knew it must mean. Calvin was pooping his pants. No, he was pooping his diaper. “Mmmph…! Ughhh...C-can’t stop it…” He groaned through gritted teeth, his face growing flushed with the strain of pushing the behemoth load out. At a point, he had to stop holding onto his bottom, not that it was helping the situation anyway. His hands instead came out in front of him, clenched first into righteous fists, and then his palms gripped at his knees instead. The white baseball pants, which had already been stained with dirt from play, began to bulge more noticeably in the back. The crinkly diaper beneath, which rustled with each inch added, was puffing out prodigiously with his hefty droppings. Another longwinded fart, another loud grunt, and another big lump. The earthy aroma wafted up from his backside and Vivian clicked her tongue. “My, my...What a stinker you’re being! Is this what a man brings his woman, when he can’t bring home a big paycheck instead?” The rumbling didn’t cease for another few minutes, with Calvin made to be the center of all the rude noises in the living room. The back of his pants swelled further, and he looked almost tuckered out by the time he finished up. Vivian gave his bottom another few pats, this time firmer, to ensure that he felt every inch of the payload he had so graciously deposited in his oversized Pampers. Once she was sure that he had finished, she tenderly started to disrobe him right there, and he was too exhausted to fight her on it. Soon, his fully loaded diaper was all that he was left wearing, and it sagged noticeably on his narrow hips. “Now, why don’t we get you all cleaned up for dinner? I think you could probably do with a bath, you little stinkpot.” Calvin sniffled, fists clenched at his side, but he nodded weakly. He was in no position to argue, not just because his girlfriend was some sort of witch, but because from where he was standing bowlegged, he was little more than an elementary school boy in a very poopy diaper. Whether he wanted to or not, he would soon be learning exactly what all his immaturity was worth. Depending on what he made of it, that would be what decided exactly how far this would all go. The question would really come down to whether or not he was capable of learning from his prior mistakes, or if he was doomed to have to start from square one. Vivian already had a feeling she knew where this would all lead.