Tale #158: Playing Baby

Tale #158: Playing Baby (Content Tags: Slice of life, ABDL protagonist, messy diapers, forced diapering, humiliation, role reversal) "Okay, I'm leaving now. Make sure to keep an eye on your little sister, okay? I'll be back later tonight." Dusty looked morose as he watched his mother leave, just as she often did, with all the responsibilities entrusted to him, since he was the older brother. Other kids would have been proud to be trusted to be so responsible, or maybe they'd be irritated at the extra work that babysitting would create. For Dusty, neither of those feelings rang true. For Dusty, all he felt was anxiety and anguish. "Dusty! Time to play!" His little sister's voice rang out from the living room, her tone confident and amused. The boy gulped and winced at that. He knew exactly what play time would entail, and he knew exactly how powerless he was to stop it. He may have had a little over three years on his younger sister, with middle school officially in swing for him, but none of that mattered. His age superiority, or his obvious size advantage, neither of those mattered in the least. Lena, the nine year old terror, had him by the scruff of his neck. She'd played her cards just right to ensure that her big brother was firmly beneath her thumb. Whenever their mother left the house, and when Dusty was ostensibly supposed to be in command, was when she struck. Dusty sighed and quietly shuffled his way to the living room, where his younger sister was standing with her hands on her hips and a smug grin on her face. There wasn't a doubt in the girl's mind about who was really in control here. "Do we really have to do this every time?" The boy groaned, though the answer was always the same. "Yup! Now go get the diaper bag, or else." Hearing it called that was enough to bring a scowl to his face; he wasn't sure if his shame or anger was stronger. If he wasn't so afraid of the consequences, then he'd tell her to shove off and to take her threats elsewhere, but there *would* be consequences for his disobedience. That 'or else' was the blackmail that Lena had been ruthlessly extorting him with for months. It was the tacit, lingering threat in the air that she'd spill the beans on his little secret. Over time, with the game he'd been made to play, that blackmail had only grown more robust as well; every time they played this little game, he lost a little more ground to stand firmly on. "Fine..." "Ah, ah, ah! What do you say?" "Yes, *big sis*." Without any further fuss, Dusty made his way to his bedroom, where the bag remained hidden in his closet. He took the trip slowly, like a man being led to the gallows, and once he'd made it, he let his mind wander with the possibilities of what might have been if he hadn't been so careless to begin with. The diaper bag, which was really just one of his duffel bags that was stuffed with baby supplies, wasn't something that Lena had created. The crinkly garments inside hadn't been bought by her hand, nor had the pacifier or bottle; no, everything inside was something that his own neatly saved allowance had purchased. They were all things that he himself had wanted. At least at one point. His feelings weren't quite the same these days, now that his odd curiosity was being used as a cruel cudgel against him. No longer did the things in that bag represent comfort or security, but instead they were icons of anxiety and stress. They were the very tools that could so easily lead to his destruction at the whim of a pernicious brat. At any moment that Lena stopped being satisfied with his behavior, or if her anger boiled over, then she could swiftly pull the rug out from under Dusty and let the whole world know what kind of boy he truly was. If he didn't keep her happy, then he'd end up miserable. Dusty unzipped the bag and pulled out one of the large, white rectangles from it. It was a thick adult diaper, of the smallest possible sizes in terms of waistband, but rather cumbersome in its actual bulk. A youth diaper would have been preferable, but their pharmacy didn't have something quite so specialized, save for something like Goodnites or Underjams. But he hadn't wanted some flimsy Pull-Up made for bedwetting; Dusty had wanted something real, something with tapes and that crinkled. Dusty had wanted diapers, and that's exactly what he had gotten, which was now a major regret. The fascination had bubbled in his brain for years; he'd been tantalized by diaper commercials, been awestruck by seeing how free younger kids seemed in them, and his daydreams had often tilted toward the infantile. It was as if the garment, and all the accoutrements involved, were the purest representation of comfort and peace. They were a symbol of simpler times. Or they used to be. Now, they were a symbol of his subjugation and humiliation. There was hardly anything that symbolized freedom less than the puffy padding he held in his hand, because now they were shackles that bound him to the will of a tiny tyrant. The boy began to strip down, knowing exactly what procedure he was supposed to follow. With mom out of the house for the next several hours, that meant it was time for him to become 'Diaper Boy Dusty', and he was to report to his 'babysitter' to play an ongoing game of house that'd exceeded anything normal and had long worn its welcome. It'd been a several months now that things had been like this. The game had started shortly after his twelfth birthday, but the private side of the matter had been something he'd been doing since shortly after his tenth birthday. That was part of what had made it so cruel, that two years of happiness had been so suddenly quashed by a brief moment of stupidity. It was arrogance that had sunk him, because his hubris had been what had led to carelessness. This whole part of his life had been hidden for so long, and he'd only indulged in it when he knew that it was safe to, but it'd only taken one misstep to let it all crumble. Dusty unfolded the diaper and began to fluff it in his hands. A part of him still obviously loved what he held, but that part of him was being held hostage by someone who didn't care to understand his feelings. His innermost desires and private thoughts had been fashioned into the leash around his neck. He'd been alone on the day that he'd been caught. His mother had gone to work an extra shift, and his little sister wasn't supposed to be due home until that evening; from what he could remember, Lena was supposed to be at a friend's birthday party, but it'd been cut tragically short by the birthday girl getting sick. Funny to think that a few germs had changed the course of his life in such an irrevocable way. With such a wide patch of time cut out for him to be alone, it had been obvious to him that it was a good time to play 'baby'. He'd fixed himself a bottle of chocolate milk, he'd put on his diaper, and he'd even fashioned a onesie out of an oversized shirt and some safety pins. With the time slot he had carved out, he'd felt like he could do whatever he wanted. While he would usually keep his most brazen activity confined to his bedroom, as to keep his secret most secure, he'd instead decided to use the whole house as his stage. He waddled about, sucking on a pacifier and feeling completely free. It'd been like a paradise! At that time, he'd kept his actual diaper usage to a strict minimum; he'd wet in them a few times, but even that had felt like he was overstepping his boundaries. It was obvious that to actually go in the diapers, regardless of number, that it'd create a problem of clean-up and disposal. Wetting the diapers wasn't too bad, as the smell was fairly minimal, but that odor would get worse if he wasn't able to get the soggy diaper out of the house. Which is why messing had been totally taboo for him; he didn't care for the idea of cleaning himself up afterward, and a poopy diaper would be far more difficult to secretly get rid of! He couldn't just bag it and toss it in the trash, at least not without risking the can smelling something fierce. Besides the logistics of it, the idea hadn't really appealed to his sense of fantasy in the first place. Playing baby was meant to be something relaxing for him; it was intended to be something that put him at ease and simplified his reality down to the nuts and bolts of infancy. Adding number twos into the equation wasn't just kind of gross, but it seemed like it would ruin the serenity of the scene he'd worked so hard to craft. That was a farcry from where he was now. In the time that he'd become Lena's baby doll, he'd made full use of the diapers that she made him wear; the girl had even been cruel enough to simulate such messes if he wasn't able to perform for her, or worse, concoct something to help stimulate his bowels into active participation. The first load in his pants had been on the very day that she'd first caught him, and he supposed that the thrill of debasing him so thoroughly had been something she'd been chasing ever since. He could still remember sitting on the floor of the living room, with childish cartoons blaring from the television in front of him, and his lips pursed around the nipple of the baby bottle. That'd been the idyllic picture that his sister had quietly walked in on; that'd been the photographs that she'd smugly snapped of him, without him having a clue. It'd only gone downhill from there. There had been teasing and mockery, as to be expected, and mean-spirited comments about what a loser he must be. Their sibling dynamic had never been great, but before that day, it had been Dusty that was swinging his authority around. He wore his big brother badge with a broad smile and a bossy attitude, so it only made sense that Lena was poised to take it away from him. Once she showed him that she had pictures, and that she'd been savvy enough to save them to the cloud, it had been game over for him. Even if he'd overpowered her and had taken her phone to manually delete the pictures, they would have still existed in a place that was out of reach. He couldn't turn to their mom for help either, since then he'd have to very awkwardly explain his odd little hobby. And so he submitted himself to her. Dusty became her plaything, because the alternative was to let her ruin his life, both at home and at school. Lena ran with that power too, just not in the way that Dusty would have expected. He thought she would want his allowance, or that she'd have him do her chores, but she had a larger goal in mind. That's how he'd ended up as her baby doll. It was a role he'd been forced to immediately take up, and he knew that the thought had only come to her because of the circumstances of how she'd found him. If she had leverage over him for some other reason, then she likely would have never considered humiliating him so, but he'd presented her with something she couldn't ignore. He crawled around on the floor, he sucked on his pacifier, he babbled and drooled, and eventually, under her smug direction, he would go 'potty' in his pants. Peeing himself had been embarrassing, but it was at least something he'd done in the past. She giggled and gawked at him while watching the front of his diaper swell; the dull hissing and his stiffened legs giving the act further authenticity. He'd really thought that would be the end of it, especially once she coerced him into confessing that he made 'pee-pee' in his 'diapee'. But she hadn't stopped at that. No, she'd seen how obedient he was to her word, and she'd known that she could get more out of him. Thus came the command for him to go number two in his diaper as well, and he'd been left wishing that the ground would swallow him up. He'd tried to gently argue with her about it, and he'd brought up the problems that it would present, but she hadn't cared. All those problems were his to figure out, not hers, and if he didn't want her to start sending text messages, then he'd shut up and start pushing. The first time had been the hardest for him; it'd taken multiple different positions to find the one that would work, and even then, he'd been left grunting and straining for minutes on end. Things had finally kicked off with a long, dry fart, and that's when he'd felt the knobby tip of a steamer beginning to touch cloth. His hands were on his knees, his brow was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his rosy cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk. Slowly but surely, the firm log slithered out into his soggy diaper; the puffy backside, made taut to his skin by the tight makeshift onesie he wore, was fairly resistant at first. It took a considerable amount of effort, and physically tugging the diaper away from him, for the turd to slide all the way out. And then the smelly solid had been trapped back there, all snuggled against his sweaty backside, while his sister laughed and called him disgusting. It was warm and heavy, and it felt like it must be a lot larger than it actually was; shame had painted his face in red, and he could remember feeling the back of his onesie where the heated bump had formed. He'd hated it, though in some ways he hadn't. The sensory experience was something that he'd begrudgingly enjoyed, especially with how the warmth was so trapped and focused against him, but the psychological pain of it had been miserable. That pain, mostly felt by his ego, had been felt every time since. Even now, as he finished taping his diaper up and applying a liberal amount of baby powder to his rear, he hadn't reclaimed the joy he'd once felt for this ritual. The scant times he had the house all to himself, he couldn't even bring himself enjoy it like he once had. All he could think about was that it'd become a punishment for his hubris, and the only emotion he could feel was anxiety from what it now represented. Dusty resented that. His one outlet had been twisted into something that only made him feel worse, and there was no end in sight to it. He'd considered trying to bargain with his sister, or find a way to blackmail her back, but he couldn't think of any realistic way to do that. Force still wasn't viable either, since he didn't know if she had any contingency plans against his revolt. The one thing he could try to put his hope in was that she'd have a change of heart, but he doubted it would come any time soon. Not whenever she was having so much fun tormenting him. For now, and possibly forever, he was just going to have to keep playing the game.