Close Encounters 23
The following story is a complete work of fiction.
Any similarity to actual persons living or dead is completely unintentional...
not to mention I will also be so incredibly jealous too.
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Close Encounters
by Danny
~ Twenty-Third Encounter ~
Last night, I had laid in the cool bathtub for over an hour, soaking my throbbing balls and cursing the day the parents of that kid had the audacity to give birth to a childlike Damien. What made it worse was, they hadn't smothered him in his crib as a baby when they could have done so and no one would have been the wiser.
I know I should feel guilty for thinking such a horrible thing as murdering a baby, but at the time, I was angry, sore and tired. When I woke up the next morning, I didn't feel so bad and even gave the kid some slack. I mean, he isn't the way he is all on his own. Since I know that Bill and Gladys are good people and I must assume that Damien takes after one or maybe both of his parents. Or maybe something they did or didn't do while raising him made him so... well made him the way he is now.
One thing that I hadn't given any thought to last night was what Damien might tell his grandparents. I know the little brat is fairly smart, so I wouldn't put it past him to conjure up some outlandish tale to get me into trouble. That started to worry me more and more as the day went on. Thankfully, Damien either hadn't thought about doing such a thing or he had his own reason for not doing it. Either way, I was glad he hadn't.
It was around 1:30 p.m. when the doorbell rang and mom called me from my room. "Max you've got a visitor!" she sang out.
Thinking it was Sean or Mark, I quickly jumped into a pair of pants since I'd been sitting on my bed in my underwear and t-shirt, reading a car magazine when she called for me. I was disappointed to find that it wasn't Sean or Mark that came to see me, it was the devil... I mean Damien.
I was surprised and speechless for all of about three seconds, "What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Max, be nice!" mom verbally chastised me as she was leaving the room.
"Sorry mom!" I said, pushing Damien back out the door, stepping out with him and closing the door behind me.
"Listen, you little..." I caught myself before I cussed, "I should beat the crap out of you right here and now! You're nothing but an evil little brat. Someday, you're going to pull some of your crap on the wrong person and they are going to stomp you into the ground." Yeah, I was being mean, but just seeing that little kid brought out the worst in me.
Damien stood motionless, looking down at the ground and didn't speak. In fact, he didn't do anything but stand there. I was fully on my guard, he wasn't going to get another chance to hit me, kick me or do anything else to me. If he so much as breathed on me, I don't think I could have, or even would have restrained myself any longer.
"What do you want; you little worm?" I growled with frustration.
My right hand twitched. It wanted to wrap it around his throat and squeeze until his head popped off. It was taking all my willpower not to smack him around, even just a little bit.
"I don't have anyone to play with," Damien sniveled.
"That's because, you smell like pee!" Oh my god, I can't believe I really just said that.
Still staring down at his feet, Damien sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. He left a streak of glistening snot on his sleeve.
"I'm sorry for hitting and kicking you," he said softly.
"No you're not! You're a brat and you will always be a brat! Now go away! Don't ever come around here again or I might just decide to hurt you for the fun of it!" I snarled and then went back inside, leaving Damien alone.
About twenty minutes later, my mom came into my bedroom, "That little boy is still outside, is he waiting for you?"
"He's not a little boy, he's Bill and Gladys's grandson and he's evil." I said without looking up from the book I was reading.
"Max," mom said in that tone mothers use to make you feel bad or guilty about something.
I lowered my book, "Want proof? Get a glass of water, bless it and toss it on him. I'll bet you two weeks allowance that he'll burst into flames!"
Mom changed her tone slightly, "He's just a little boy and he looks lonely. Why don't you go out and toss the ball with him or something."
"I'm telling you mom; that kid isn't right in the head! I don't want anything to do with him, and if he needs someone to baby sit him again, don't come looking for me because I won't go."
I could tell that I had crossed the line with my mom, but I think I got my point across. At least I thought I did, until she said, "That's too bad you feel that way, because your sister wants to go to a concert tonight and she was supposed to sit for Bill and Gladys all night. She was willing to give up the $50 that they were going to pay her too."
Mom tried to look innocent as she said, "Maybe I should just invite him to stay over here and keep the money for myself."
"MOM! That's not fair!" I whined, "I'm the one that would end up having to watch him and put up with him."
"So you're saying that, since you'll be spending the evening with him anyway, that you want the money too?" mom said coyly.
"Fine! I'll go, but if I come home possessed by demons, don't blame me!"
Mom walked away knowing she'd just talked me into it. "Ok, I'll call and let them know you're coming then."
I stood up from my desk chair, walked over to my bed and fell face first onto my mattress. "Someone up there really hates me!" I said to myself.
And then, an idea jumped into my head. It was the most awful, most outrageously horrible idea I had ever formulated... "I'll do it!" I announced with a Grinch-like grin.
I learned from mom that Bill and Gladys were going to a square dancing competition in the next state over and wouldn't be home until after 10:00 a.m. the following morning. I was expected to watch Damien from 4:00 p.m. until his grandparents returned the following morning. That meant I'd be alone with Damien for eighteen hours. I rubbed my hands together and basked in my own brilliance, "Oh this is going to be too good!"
$37.78 was the sum total of my entire life savings, including the money I'd more than earned last night from baby-sitting. To exact my plan, I was going to have to spend that money and I didn't have very much time to do it.
I had talked to Mark earlier that morning and told him all about Damien and the evening I'd had to endure with him. Mark laughed and teased me about being beat-up and bested by a kid that was a third my size.
When I decided to go through with my idea, I first called Mark and told him what I had planned. At first, Mark sounded apprehensive, but soon enough he jumped on-board. I thought about calling Sean too but given his age, I figured it was probably better that I kept him out of it. I asked Mark if I could have a couple of his diapers, which he was happy to let me have. I got my backpack from my room, pocketed my money, got my bike out of the garage and rode over to Marks.
Mark gave me four of his diapers and said that if there were any of them left afterward that I should take them home and use them myself. I think secretly, he really wants to get me into a diaper like him.
The two of us road my bike up to the corner drug store with me peddling and Mark on my handlebars.
"Mark, you need to go on a diet! You're wearing me out!" I moaned as I tried to peddle up the hill.
Though I recognized the line Mark stole from Monsters Inc. it was still funny, "Less talking and more peddling marshmallow boy!" he said.
He then said, "I'll peddle on the way back!"
"Oh sure! It's almost all downhill going back!" I complained.
Mark laughed, "Hey, it's your crazy idea! I'm just along for the ride. Now peddle!"
At the drug store, Mark stayed outside and guarded my bike so that it wouldn't be stolen while I was inside getting the supplies I would need. I went straight to the diaper isle and looked at all the different kinds of diapers. I finally decided to buy the smallest quantity package of Pampers size-6 because they looked to be the biggest and most absorbent of all the diapers. I also had to make sure that I had enough money to get the other supplies. I also picked out a container of baby-wipes, a container each of baby scented baby powder and Vaseline.
I had to go to the next isle over to find the baby bottles and pacifiers. I had intended to get one of each, but they had the neatest gadget, it was an adaptor that you screw onto a soda or water bottle and then you are able to attach any normal baby bottle nipple to it. It came two to a package for $1.99 so I got that instead. The pacifier that I selected was green and shaped like Kermit the Frog's head.
The last item I needed to pick up was something that I knew about, but wasn't sure what it was called. When I was about 8-years-old, on a bet from my brother, I had swallowed twenty five marbles. The doctor had told my mom to give me this medicine that she got at this drug store and put it into a can of Root beer. Whatever that stuff was, within about fifteen minutes, I was pooping rivers of crap and marbles. That stuff flushed out my entire body, and I know that more stuff came out of me than I'd ever in my life put into me.
However, it didn't take very long for me to realize that, I wasn't going to be able to find it on my own. I needed help. The question was, how do I ask someone at the store for something like that? Then I had the idea of telling them that my mom had given me a list of things to buy and that I'd lost the list on the way over.
I found a nice lady that worked at the pharmacy and told her my story. She bought into it with no hesitation at all.
"I think I know what she wants," the lady said and led me to a mind staggeringly large selection of laxatives and stool softeners. I had no idea that there were so many different kinds of drugs to help you poop.
"Oh here it is," the lady said, picking up a small plastic bottle from the bottom shelf.
I recognized the shape of the bottle instantly. The label read, "Kondremul Lubricant Laxative".
"Yeah, that's what mom called it." I lied.
On the way to the checkout counter, I grabbed two, two-liter bottles of caffeine free, chocolate cola. I paid for the items and still had three dollars and some change left over, so I bought three candy-bars. One was for me, one was for Mark and one was for Damien that I would give him later.
I arrived at Bill and Gladys's home right on time. "Glad to see you Max!" Bill said slapping me on the back and ushering me into their house. Damien was nowhere to be seen and Bill said that Gladys was upstairs putting on her face.
"Putting on her face?" I asked as I slipped off my backpack and put it in the front closet with my jacket. "I knew you two were too good to be true. You're both aliens from some distant planet aren't you?" I joked.
Bill's face was blank and serious. He rolled his eyes back so that only the whites were showing, pointed at me and said, "Brains... must eat brains!"
I laughed and said, "Hey, you can ask my dad, there aren't any brains in my head!"
Right then, Gladys came down the steps. Sounding totally serious, she said, "Honey, you know that eating brains gives you gas." And then walked up to me, pinched both of my cheeks and gave me a kiss on the forehead. She then licked her lips and said to Bill, "Besides, he's not ripe yet."
"Ha-Ha! You guys are too funny! And I suppose you're going to tell me that Damien's an alien too." I laughed.
Bill was getting into the coat closet to get his and Gladys's jackets as he said, "Nope, just snack, uh, I mean human like you."
"Alright, that's enough." Gladys told him and then proceeded to give me a rundown of everything I would need to know about, including how to contact them in case of an emergency.
As they were leaving, and just as he'd done the previous evening, Bill said, "Don't burn the house down! No wild parties and don't drink the blue water in the toilets!"
"No promises!" I said as I closed and locked the front door.
This time, I peeked through the front curtain and watched until they were gone. I also waited a good half-hour before doing anything just in case they came back to get something they had forgotten.
Unlike the previous night, Gladys had already prepared dinner for the two of us and had it waiting in the oven to keep it hot. It was a tasty looking pot-roast with carrots, potatoes and really long green beans.
Before going to try and make up with Damien, I would have to earn his trust if I was going to exact my revenge. I got the table set, and filled both of our glasses with some of the chocolate soda I'd brought for him, except in Damien's drink, I also added half the bottle of Kondremul.
At first, I was just going to call him down, but I figured that after the way I had talked to him earlier in the day, it wouldn't have surprised me at all if he totally ignored me. So instead, I climbed the steps and found which room he was in.
"Hi Damien," I said, trying to be friendly.
He was lying on the bed on his belly playing with a videogame with a set of headphones on so he had not heard me coming. I was all the way in the room and standing next to the bed before he even knew I was around. When he finally saw me, he screamed and flew off the bed. His headphones were yanked off his head and he crashed backward into a dresser against the far wall. His head hit the dresser fairly hard and he began to cry as he held the back of his head.
I raced to his side and tried to see if he was bleeding, but he kept trying to pull away from me.
I tried to keep my voice calm so not to upset him anymore than I had already done. I also tried to make a joke to get him to stop crying, "Hold still, and let me see if you're leaking brains."
"Ow-Ow-Ow!" he cried out.
He already had a slight bump forming and within about ten minutes it had become a nasty little goose egg. He was still crying pretty hard when I picked him up and carried him downstairs to put some ice on his head. I had sat him on the kitchen counter while I got the ice, put it into a Zip-Lock baggie and then wrapped it with one of the kitchen towels.
"Here, hold this on your head and it will help." I instructed.
"How come you are here and not that other girl?" Damien asked through his diminishing tears.
I told him why and then told him how sorry I was that I had startled him so badly upstairs. The ice seemed to be doing the trick because he had stopped crying and I was even able to make him laugh about it.
"Boy, you got me good!" he laughed.
"Yeah, you jumped a mile!" I agreed.
"No way! he laughed even louder, "I jumped ten miles!"
Then I asked him, "Did you even know that your grandma and grandpa shouted goodbye to you?"
"I didn't even know they were gone!" he said and winced when he moved his head too fast.
"Still hurt?" I asked.
Instead of answering, he asked his own question, "Are you still way super mad at me?"
I smiled and give him a little tickle, "Nah, I am not still way super mad at you no more."
Whacking his head was a bad way to break the ice between us, but it seemed to do the trick and maybe for a fraction of a second, I had second thoughts about going through with my plans, but then I remembered how manipulative Damien was. Inside, I knew that it wouldn't be long before he'd try something again.
As the two of us sat at the table eating our dinner, it took all of my restraint to keep from laughing every time he picked up his chocolate soda and took a drink. The two of us were actually getting along well, laughing and talking while we ate. Damien had drunk nearly all of his chocolate soda already, so I got up and refilled his glass. I figured that while he was willing to drink extra fluids now, it would just help all the more later and he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was letting him have all the chocolate soda he wanted. By the time we were done eating, he had consumed three full glasses including the first that contained the Kondremul.
When he offered to help me carry our dished to the kitchen, and then offered to wipe off the table for me I was suspicious, but let him help me. The two of us washed the dishes together, well actually I washed them, and he just stood beside me telling me all about the video game he was playing before. I had just put the last plate away when I heard a gurgle come from Damien's stomach.
Damien laughed, "My tummy says it is full!"
"I would say so; I heard it all the way over here," I said knowingly.
"You have room for some desert?" I asked.
His eyes lit up and he asked, "What?"
"If you want it now, I brought you a surprise for desert." I said.
He started to bounce up and down on his tippy-toes, "YOU BROUGHT ME A SURPRISE! WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?" He squealed so loud, I thought my ears might bleed.
While I had been getting the table ready for us to eat, I had retrieved the candy bar from my backpack and put it in the refrigerator to keep it from melting. I opened up the door, took it back out and handed it to him.
He was so excited and asked, "How did you know that Baby-Ruth is my favorite!"
"Well, I didn't really. I guess I got lucky." I answered with a shrug of my shoulders and a self-satisfied smirk.
For a heart stopping moment, I thought he was about to punch me or something, but he was just reaching out to hug me.
He started to walk back around to the table and I asked, "Where are you going?"
"To eat it," he said pointing toward the dining room table.
"You don't have to eat it at the table. You can take it into the living room and watch some TV if you want." I said, and I think that surprised him.
"I can?" he said and ran toward the living room. "Yaaahooooo!" he said skidding to a stop and plopping down in front of the TV.
"Can we watch Simpson's?" he asked.
"Uh, I don't think they are on right now," I said.
"No on the tape!" he said pointing to the VCR.
I realized that they must have some of the older episodes recorded, "Oh, do you know where it is?"
Damien had ripped open his candy bar and taken a bite of it. "Ith in ga cloffet." He mumbled, pointing to the closet in the hall.
I opened the door and saw a surprising number of video tapes with movies, TV shows and several other titles hand written on the labels. Damien squeezed past me, grabbed one of the VCR tapes and raced back to the TV.
"Do you know how to do it?" I asked.
He turned and gave me a look as if to say, "How stupid do I look to you?"
He pushed in the tape and pressed the play button before plopping down on the floor again to finish his candy bar. Damien began to watch the Simpson's while I sat on the couch and watched him. It was kind of nice watching the Simpson's on video tape because all of the commercials had been edited out and about halfway through the first episode, I noticed that Damien was beginning to squirm a little.
Without commercials, the first episode only lasted about fifteen minutes and when it was over, Damien turned to me and whimpered, "My tummy don't feel good."
He leaned forward to try to stand up and that's when it happened. I heard a sort of bubbling and then a loud juicy farting sound. Damien froze in place, half standing and half kneeling. I knew instantly that the first part of my plan had been a success. I didn't do or say anything; I just watched to see what Damien would do.
For several seconds, he didn't do anything, but then I saw his bottom lip quivering and his face turned a deep shade of pink.
I finally said something, "Sounds like you might have some gas."
When he still didn't move, I added, "Do you need to go potty?"
I saw tears begin to run down his face and knew for sure that I had him right where I wanted him.
"Little man?" I remembered how he'd responded when I had called him that yesterday and continued it to insure his continued trust, "Did you have an accident?"
I stood up, went over to him and could smell the foul contents of his pants. I hadn't figured on the smell, it was bad, really bad and it made me feel as though I might start gagging. Using a trick my dad had taught me a long time ago, I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as forcefully as I could and the noxious feelings seemed to ease a bit. I then knelt down before Damien and said, "It's ok little man, come on, I'll help you get cleaned up."
When I reached out and touched him, he lost it and began to cry the way he had when he had hit his head. Secretly, I was reeling with excitement and pleasure at making this boy suffer for the way he was to me the past couple of days. Damien let go another loud juicy fart as I picked him up in my arms to carry him to the upstairs bathroom and I knew, more had escaped into his pants again then just gas.
Damien was so embarrassed and, so humiliated that he was sobbing uncontrollably and clinging to my neck with surprising strength. When the two of us reached the bathroom I lowered him into the tub and had to pull on his arms to get him to release his vise like hold on my neck. He wouldn't even look at me. His chin was buried in his chest which was heaving with each mournful gasp.
The mess in his pants was bad. It wasn't runny like I thought it would be but it was still bad. And I found it peculiar that it wasn't brown but was a kind of bright green. I hadn't given any thought to how to clean him up, so I was relieved to see that they had one of those hand held shower things. It made it so much easier to spray the poop off his rear end and to rinse out the tub when he was clean.
Never once did he speak or look up as I washed him from head to toe. I was sure he would protest when I pressed the soapy rag between his butt cheeks but he didn't. He wouldn't even step out of the tub on his own, I had to pick him up, set him on the floor and dry him with a towel. He even stood there, softly weeping while I rinsed his soiled paints and underwear in the tub and then cleaned out the tub.
Wrapped in the towel, I carried him to the bedroom he was in earlier, sat him on the bed and scrounged around for a fresh pair of underwear and some pajamas for him. For the most part, he had stopped crying, but he had been completely humiliated and had retreated into himself. I tried to get him to look at me or to talk, but he wouldn't do either.
I had to dress him and had just combed his hair for him when he bolted from the room, only to stop in the middle of the hallway. This time, when he began to cry, he was quite vocal about it, "NOOOOOOooooooooo!"
He had soiled himself for the second time just as I knew he would. When my mom had given me that stuff, I had pooped and pooped and pooped and when I thought I couldn't poop anymore I pooped again.
I wasn't upset at all at having to start washing him again because I knew that before his grandparents returned tomorrow, he was going to be sick of having baths.
I raced to his side and hugged him close to me, "It's ok little man; it's ok! Don't cry, it will be ok."
He was crying so hard that his entire body trembled in my arms. "Please make it stop!" he pleaded, but I had no intention of doing anything but make it worse for him.
I was just as thorough when washing him and rinsing his pajamas as I had been the first time. When I had him dried off and before leaving the bathroom, I asked him, "Do you think you need to sit on the potty for a minute?"
He wouldn't look up but he did shake his head `no'.
"Are you sure?" I asked again.
He nodded this time and I had to hide my grin as I scooped him up and carried him to his room once more. This time however, I had only gotten his underwear on him when he pooped in them.
"Oh Damien again?" I said in fake disgust.
It wasn't so bad this time. He must have been nearly empty and it didn't take as long to clean him up. To drive home the idea that I didn't want him to mess in anymore of his clothes, I told him he had to sit on the toilet until I got back from putting his cloths in the washer. When I opened the washer, something struck me as odd. The towels I had put in the washer the previous night were still in there, so I put those in the drier and tossed his clothes in the washer.
When I got back upstairs, Damien was still sitting on the toilet. He wasn't crying anymore and he looked like he might have recovered just a little from the humiliation of having pooped his pants three times in a row.
"You doing ok little man?" I asked.
He nodded and actually looked up at me for the first time. He eyes were red and swollen from having been crying so much and so hard. I helped him blow his nose and then had him stand up so that I could help him wipe, but he had not pooped anymore.
"You didn't have to go anymore?" I asked patting him on his bottom.
He shook his head again and I took him back to his room yet again. I went to his dresser and saw that there was only one more pair of underwear left and so I said, "Hey little man, this is the last pair of underwear so if you think you need to go again, you will have to run to the bathroom ok?"
He spoke for the first time, "Ok" and he sounded tired and defeated.
As I was pulling his underwear up I said, "I am sorry you are not feeling very well."
He threw his arms around my neck and hugged me tightly.
I finally had him dressed in a clean pair of pajamas again and asked if he wanted me to carry him back downstairs, but he shook his head and walked down on his own.
He started to go toward the couch, but I said, "Uh, maybe you shouldn't sit on the furniture, I mean just in case it happens again."
He dropped his head and sat down on the floor in front of the TV.
"Would you like something to drink, maybe some chocolate soda will help settle your tummy?" I asked.
"Yes please," he answers, and I was surprised by his politeness. It was the first time I had ever heard him use the word please.
I went to the kitchen and was taking out a glass when Damien came running into the kitchen, flew past me and into the half-bath that was off of the kitchen.
"Are you ok Damien?" I asked.
I heard the answer for myself and knew he had managed to make it to the toilet this time. I looked into the little half-bath and he was sitting on the toilet and looked totally pleased with himself for making it this time.
"Close one huh?" I said with a reassuring smile.
"Yeah!" he said.
I left him to finish and went to prepare his drink. I put the rest of the bottle of Kondremul into it and dropped it into the trashcan before he had come back out of the bathroom.
"I am so proud of you for making it to the potty that time!" I said as I handed him the drink. He drank the whole glass in one long gulp.
"Wow you must have been thirsty!" I said.
He went, "Aaahhh!" as he finished it.
He hadn't realized that while he was guzzling the drink, he had dripped onto his pajama shirt.
We both saw it at the same time, "Sorry" he said meekly.
I smiled, maybe next time I should find you something with a lid so that you won't spill.
"Can I have some more?" he asked.
"Ok, but why don't you go watch some more of the Simpson's and I'll see if I can't come up with something so that you won't spill anymore.
Originally in the store, I had thought about just putting the baby bottle adapter onto one of the two-liter jugs, but now it didn't seem like such a good idea. I opened the refrigerator and much to my glee, I found a bottle of Aquafina water. I had a problem though, how to get the bottle adapter and baby-bottle nipples from my backpack without Damien seeing.
I peeked around the wall and saw that Damien wasn't in the living room. I went down the hall and he wasn't anywhere in site. I decided to call out for him and he called back from upstairs.
"I'm getting something!" he said.
"OK, I just wanted to make sure you were ok." I shouted up to him and quickly retrieved my backpack from the front coat closet.
So that he wouldn't see it if he came into the kitchen, I stuffed it into the cupboard under the sink. I then emptied the water bottle, filled it with more chocolate soda and took it out to Damien. He was just coming back downstairs, carrying a Sponge Bob pillow and throw-blanket.
"Here you go little man," I said handing him the bottle and then asked, "you feeling better now?"
He looked at the water bottle filled with chocolate soda and looked at the baby bottle nipple I had put on it.
"I ain't no baby!" he said in protest.
"Yeah but this way you won't spill it on yourself again and there is no chance that it will get spilled on the carpet if you have to run to the bathroom again."
He turned it upside down and shook it once, nothing came out. He turned it right-side up again, poked at the nipple with his finger a couple of times and then put it in his mouth. He took it right back out again, looked at it for another second and then put it in and began to suck.
He pulled it out of his mouth and said, "Nothing is coming out."
"Well silly, you have to hold it up like this," I said and pushed it back into his mouth and held the bottom of the bottle up in the air. "Now suck on it."
He did and his eyes glimmered telling me that it was working.
He pulled the bottle back out and announced, "I'm hungry again."
I figured the Kondremul must have flushed the pot-roast right through his system or something like that, so I asked him what he wanted. "Oh ok, would you like more of what we had for supper?"
He wrinkled up his nose and smiled, "Can I please have some peanut butter on toast?"
"Um, yeah sure if you think that won't upset your tummy." I said.
Damien poked at his stomach and sang, "Peanut butter on toast will be yummy in my tummy!"
I made it up as quickly as I could. I knew it wouldn't be long before the second dose of Kondremul began to work its magic and I wanted to be there when it did.
"You want to eat it in there?" I asked.
"I can have it in here?" he asked obviously knowing that his grandparents wouldn't have agreed.
I carried the toast in to him on a paper towel but I tied a kitchen towel around his neck and laid anther over his lap. He gobbled it down in record time and began to drink form his bottle of chocolate soda. I noticed that he had his bottle over half-gone already and asked, "More chocolate soda?" With a big peanut butter grin as he held out the bottle.
When I returned, Damien had once again vanished.
"You-hoo, Damien. Where are youuuu?" I sang out, and when he didn't respond, I went looking for him.
It didn't take long to find him. I reached the midway point of the steps and heard him crying again. He was standing in the middle of the upstairs hallways with his back to me. There was no missing the fact that the back of his pajamas were turning brown and the mess had made its way down his legs. There were several spots of poop on the carpet as well. Damien had an expression of grief on his face as tears began to roll down his cheeks as he murmured some self-hating words to himself.
I took the opportunity to begin phase two of my plan, "Damien? Not again! That was your last pair of underwear!"
Damien ran to the bathroom and I followed after him. He had his face hidden in the corner of the wall beside the towel bar.
"I tried to get up to go but it came out to fast!" he cried.
"Well I think maybe we need to do something different to deal with this problem." I said.
He turned and I saw that once again, his face was tear-streaked and he looked so desperate for some affectionate reassuring.
I took a gamble and said, "I think I am going to call your grandma and grandpa." And Damien reacted exactly the way I hoped he would.
He rushed forward, wrapped his arms around me and pleaded, "Please don't call, please, please, please!" he had gone completely hysterical at even the idea that I might tell someone else that he was pooping his pants.
I reassured him that I wouldn't call them and that I would think of something. This time, after I had sprayed the poop off of him, I had him sit down in the tub to soak while I went to clean up the mess he had left in the hallway. I also found three spots on the steps and one in the living room, so by the time I returned, he was nicely pruned and had settled down a lot.
"Ok little man," I began, "I called a lady."
Damien's face became horror filled so I had to reassure him by saying, "Relax, she isn't going to tell anyone! I promise."
I then continued to say, "She has a son that has a problem kind of like what you're having and she brought us over something to help until your tummy is feeling better."
"Medicine?" He asked.
"No, not medicine but you won't have to worry about messing in your clothes anymore.
Something in the water caught my eye and I saw a jet of yellow streaming from between Damien's legs and then become lost in the bathwater.
"Did you just pee?" I asked.
He flushed pink again and quickly shut off the stream.
"Damien! You shouldn't pee in your bath water! Now you are sitting in pee water!" I said sternly.
He got all upset and said, "Please don't be mad. I am sorry!"
"Come on; let's get you out of that tub and into something that will help you a lot more than just those bad underwear."
I had done three things while I had left him soaking, I had cleaned up the spots he'd left on the carpet between the living room and the upstairs hallway but I had also put his recent pair of soiled underwear and pajamas into the washer, taken the towels out of the dryer and moved the first load of his clothes from the washer to the dryer before tossing in his most recent messed clothing. The last thing I did was take the diaper supplies from my backpack and put them on the bed in his room.
So when I carried him in, he saw all of the diapers and diapering products instantly and his entire body went ridged with fright as I had expected him too. I had also expected him to protest, scream, fight against the idea but I guess I had misjudged just how broken his spirit was after having messed his pants four times in such a short amount of time.
I laid his stiff body down at the foot of the bed between the oversized Tena® diapers, wipes, cream and powder on his left and the new package of diapers on his right side. His feet were hanging over the end of the bed and he was staring directly into my eyes with an almost hypnotic sort of stare.
After spreading opening his towel, effectively leaving him lying on his bed fully nude and exposed, I then reached for the diaper cream and started to apply it to his diaper area. When the cool cream came into contact with his skin, he sucked in his breath.
"Cold?" I asked to which he surprised me with a nod of his head.
I realized quickly that I couldn't apply the cream to his backside without getting it on the bedspread so I opened the baby wipes and used one to clean my hands before I tried to open the package of diapers.
Damien watched me work with rapturous interest, following my hands from the wipes to the diapers and then watched as I fumbled to try and figure out how best to get the diaper under him. He surprised me once again when, without any instruction, put his feet up on the edge of the bed and lifted his bottom into the air. I was able to position the Pamper under him before he lowered himself back down.
When I reached for the cream again, he raised up again so that I could get it applied adequately to his bottom. I applied a generous amount of the cream to two of my fingers and slid my fingers between his butt cheeks and he sucked in his breath again.
"Sorry," I said, but continued to work the cream into his crack and then my middle finger touched his boy hole. His body convulsed and I found it amusing so I did it again. When he responded to the second touch, something in me told me to keep doing it. Damien began to arch his back and was breathing heavy. A little voice inside my head told me to push my finger into his boy hole, but that thought disturbed me so I withdrew my hand.
I had to use a second baby-wipe to clean my hand so that I could get him powdered and taped into the diaper. I was ready to apply the powder when his bottom opened up once again and sprayed a brown watery liquid all over the diaper, bedspread and worst of all, ME!
My first reaction was one of disgust, but then I saw the look on Damien's face and started to giggle. My giggles quickly turned into laughter which eased his fears and got him to giggle too.
"Well I guess we both need to get washed up this time!" I said.
Using the bedspread this time I wrapped him up in it and carried him, the towel and the newly soiled diaper to the tub. I was reaching for the faucet when he said, "No you got to get in too!"
I looked at him queerly and said, "I can't take a bath with you, I'm too big for that!"
"My dad does!" was his comeback.
Three or four seconds of thought was all I needed to make up my mind and to begin stripping off my clothes. Damien had gone all quiet and was watching me keenly again. When my pants came down, he began to breathe heavily once more. It wasn't until I was removing the bedspread, towel and diaper from the tub that I saw that he was sexually aroused. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help but stare at his tiny little penis standing straight out from his body with his little bean bag shrunken tightly beneath it.
I was suddenly nervous and very apprehensive about all that I had been doing to Damien. Panic was racing through my mind and I just wanted to run out of the bathroom, which is exactly what I did. I quickly gathered up my clothing and cried them, the bedspread and the towel down to the basement where I dropped them on the floor.
I was leaning against the washer, trying to get my head cleared up when from behind me, I heard someone on the steps. I turned and saw Damien frowning and looking down at me.
"Max?" he said and I could tell that having run off the way I did had upset him.
That voice in my head began talking to me again, telling me that everything had been going better than I could have ever hoped for it too and that now was not the time to chicken out.
Damien spoke my name again, only this time, he said it slower and he sounded as if he was going to start crying again, "Maaaax?"
When I didn't respond, he asked, "Are you sick now too Max?"
I couldn't believe this kid. For two days, he had made me believe he was Satan's span, but today, from the moment he showed up at my house wanting me to come out and play, he was being... well-being a normal, lonely little kid.
"Max, are you mad at me `cause I pooped on you?" he asked and I couldn't stop myself from laughing. I don't know why I laughed because it wasn't even funny.
With a deep sigh, I pushed off from the washer and headed up the steps and followed Damien all the way to the upstairs bathroom where the two of us took a bath together.
We played around in the tub using our hands to make water spots. Damien even showed me how to blow soap bubbles using just our hands. Actually that was pretty clever. But then Damien quickly jumped out of the tub, splashing water everywhere and sat down on the toilet. I actually felt bad when he groaned and his bottom exploded again.
While he finished, I got out of the tub and dried myself off. He was about to get off the toilet when he exploded again and looked as though he might start to cry.
"Max?" he said softly.
"Uh-huh?" I answered.
"I'm sorry I pooped on you before." He said and laughed.
I tried not to but I laughed too.
"Hey, let's get you back in the tub, get your bottom washed and then we'll get you ready to go back downstairs to watch some more Simpson's."
This time, I didn't waste any time at all getting a diaper taped onto him and when I was finished, I had to help him stand up. He went over to the bedroom door, pushed it closed and looked at himself in the full length mirror.
"Wow!" was his only remark.
"You ready to go downstairs now?" I asked.
He looked at me standing before him, wearing only my smile. "We aren't wearing any clothes!" he said with a peculiar grin.
I looked down at myself and said, "Well, I didn't bring a change of clothes and it's probably better if you don't put on another pair of pajamas in case you need to have that diaper changed."
"Hey I got an idea! You can wear my grandpa's robe!" he said and threw open the door.
"Wait, Damien!" I called but it was too late, he was across the hall and in his grandparents' bedroom already.
I had only made it to the door of his room when he reemerged holding a red crushed velvet rob.
"Here you go!" he said, handing it to me.
I pulled it on and it hung on me like some sort of royal Jedi robes and it even had a big hood on it. I pulled it up over my head and tied the belt around my waist.
"Wow, you look like you should be in a Harry Potter movie!" Damien said with a chuckle.
"Think I could play Voldemort in this?" I asked and then pointed a finger at him, "Kill the spare! Kill the spare!"
Damien went kind of pail, "No, don't be him. I don't like him."
"Oh sorry, who should I be then?" I asked.
"Um, you can be..." he thought out loud, "Um, oh I know! You can be Professor Quarrel!" and started to laugh so hard that he snorted.
"Quarrel? No way, he was a wimp! I want to be someone cool." I said.
"Um, how about Professor McGonigal?" he said and now I knew he was just messing with me.
"I'll give you Professor McGonigal!" I said and chased him all the way down the stairs and into the dining room with Damien laughing all the way.
"McGonigal, McGonigal!" he chanted from the other side of the table where I couldn't get at him.
"If I catch you I am going to tickle you until you beg for me to stop and even then I won't..." I didn't get to finish because I could tell by the look on Damien's face that he'd pooped again, only this time inside the diaper.
Damien looked down at the floor, then up at me, then down at his diaper and back up to me before he said, "Hey, it worked!"
"Of course it worked, that's what they're for!" I said with a laugh.
"Then, can I go watch Simpson's now?" he asked trying to make me forget that he had just been teasing me.
"No, I still have to tickle you!" I said very matter-of-factly.
"Noooooooo! Don't tickle me Max!" Damien was half laughing and half whining.
"Take it back then!" I said.
"How?" he asked.
"Just say that you take it back." I replied.
He smiled, giggled and then said, "Oh, ok then I take it back. Now can I go watch the Simpson's?"
"I guess so!" I said.
He took a step and then stopped.
"What? Are you pooping again?" I asked.
Damien blushed. "Nooo!" he said as though it was the dumbest question I could have asked him. "Promise you won't tickle me?"
"Ok I promise!" I said.
Damien came around the table but was keeping his eye on me. He obviously still thought I was going to reach out and grab him but then he shouted, "McGonigal!" and ran to the living room.
"You little monster you!" I shouted and chased after him.
I had him pinned to the floor and was tickling his ribs. He was kicking and squealing for me to stop, "You promised! You promised!"
"That was before you said it again!" I said.
"Uncle!" he cried out.
"That isn't going to stop me!" I laughed.
"Uncle, Unnnccle, UNNNNCCCLLEEE!!!" he screamed.
"All you have to do is take it back and I will stop!" I told him.
"I take it back, I take it back!" he squealed and threw his head around on the floor.
When I finally let him up he sat up on the floor and rubbed the back of his head, "You made me hurt my head again!"
"I didn't do anything that you didn't deserve!" I said.
"Kiss it and make it better!" he said with a grin!
"Eeeww! No way, you smell like poopy!" I said.
"That's 'cause you made me poop when you were tickling me!" he said with his bottom lip sticking out like he was pouting.
"Ahhh! Did I make the little man go poo-poo?" I teased wondering how he would take it.
Damien launched himself at me and for a second I thought he was going to attack, but instead he wrapped his arms around my neck and said, "Take me upstairs for another bath!"
"Why should I?" I said wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tighter then a hug but not as tight as a bear hug.
"Ooooh! You are squishing me!" he moaned.
I loosened my grip and he took in a lung full of air.
"Better?" I asked.
"Uh-huh!" he said laying his head down on my shoulder and pressing his body against mine.
"You know what?" I asked patting his diapered bottom.
He lifted his head and turned his face toward mine, "What?"
"You stink!" I said with a grin.
Damien smiled bigger than I've ever seen him smile and then quick as a rabbit puckered up and kissed my left cheek.
"Eeeeww, what did you do that for?" I asked.
"Because!" he said with that same big smile.
I wiped at my cheek and complained, "Yeah but now I have Damien germs all over my face!"
Damien puckered his lips and began to kiss me repeatedly.
"Eeeww, stop, gross, eeeww I have Damien germs!" I teased.
And then he kissed me right on the mouth.
"Hey, not on the mouth!" I said and whipped my lips with the back of my hand, but as soon as I did he kissed my lips again only this time, he had taken a hold of the back of my head and was pressing his lips so hard against mine that it kind of hurt.
"Damien!" I said and pushed him away, "Boys don't kiss other boys like that!"
"Yes huh!" Damien protested.
"No they don't!" I insisted.
"I've seen them on South Park!" he said and tried to kiss me again, but I held him at arm's length.
Suddenly, I saw the same evil look in his eyes that I'd seen yesterday and knew that he was reverting back to Damien the evil child.
"You know something? I like you a lot, I mean I like when you are nice and we play like we just were and I know you want to kiss like on South Park, but that is just a TV show, it's not real. Real boys like you shouldn't kiss other real boys like me or like anyone."
I was so relieved to see that evil look fade from his eyes and a small smile take its place.
"Can I kiss you on the cheek?" he asked.
I thought for a moment before saying, "Ok, but only on the cheek."
Damien pulled closer to me and kissed my cheek and then hugged my neck tightly.
"I love you Max!" he said so softly that I wondered if he meant for me to hear it at all.
I allowed myself to enjoy his hug for a minute or two before saying, "All right little man, let's get you upstairs, cleaned up again and into a fresh diaper and then we'll come down and watch some more Simpson's."
Since he was wearing the diaper and I didn't have to give him another bath, I was able to clean him up using the baby wipes. I had him in a fresh diaper and we were back downstairs within a few short minutes.
"Can I sit with you?" Max asked.
"Yeah, I think the diapers are doing the trick, so sure, let's curl up on the couch!" I said.
"Can I have some more to drink? I'm thirsty." He said.
"Sure you can, there is a full bottle right there by the TV." I said.
"Oh," he replied as it bent over to pick it up.
We were nearing the end of another episode of the Simpson's when I happen to look down at Damien and saw that the front of his diaper looked as though he had wet in it.
I must have dozed off during the next episode because Damien was shaking my arm and saying, "Max, Max I need you to come upstairs and help me again."
I opened my eyes and saw the earnestness in his eyes.
"You need your drawers changed again?" I asked while yawning.
"I pooped three times!" he said and I realized I must have been asleep longer then I thought.
"Ok, you go on up and I will be right there." I said.
Damien took off like a shot and I was about to get up when I saw that the robe I was wearing was untied and completely open. It hadn't been like that when I had drifted off to sleep and I'm sure I wouldn't have opened it while I was sleeping.
"Max, come on, I need you nooooooooowwww!" Damien called from upstairs.
I decided to dismiss it and went up to change Damien's diaper, but as I passed the TV, I happened to glance down at the VCR and saw that it was several minutes after 9:00 p.m.
Standing up, I pulled the robe closed and re-tied the belt around myself before heading up the steps again. I found Damien standing in the bathtub waiting for me to come wash him.
"You think you need another bath do ya?" I asked still not totally awake.
Damien smiled and nodded at the same time, "Yeah-yeah!"
When I undid the first tape on his diaper the contents began to leak out and trickle down his leg.
"Wow, I guess you did need changed." I said.
The contents were a sort of dirty, watery muck that didn't smell nearly as bad as before. I reckon that Damien's insides were cleaner then they have ever been in his life. Instead of opening the second tape, I slid the diaper down his leg and had him step out of it. Had we waited much longer, I think the diaper might have started leaking.
"I'm thirsty," Damien said as I was rinsing the soap off his belly.
I grinned and held the sprayer so that it was shooting right in his face. At first, he tried to block it with his hands but then he started to lap at the jets of water with his tongue, much the way a dog does.
"You're silly!" I said and finished rinsing the rest of his body.
"Ok, out of the tub," I said, but he held up his arms as if to tell me that he wanted me to pick him up, so I obliged him.
While I was drying him off, I was sitting on the toilet lid and had him standing in front of me. He started to shiver and I asked, "You feeling cold?"
He shook his head.
"What then?" I asked.
"I got to pee!" he whispered as if it were some great secret.
I stood up and raised the toilet lid, but he shook his head. "Not like that!" he continued to whisper.
It didn't take long to realize what he meant. I lightly knocked my hand against the side of my head and said, "Oh, you want to go in your diapers?"
He was now holding his penis and had his knees squeezed closely together.
I couldn't have been more pleased that he was taking to the diapers so willingly and I asked him, "Can you hold it for a minute or two?"
Though he indicated that he could, the look on his face and his body language said differently. He ran to the bedroom and quickly assumed the diapering position on his bed.
"Since you already need to wet, and seeing how it's bedtime, I'm going to use the other diapers so that you can wear it longer." I said.
His simple response was to lift his bottom off the bed so that I could get the diaper under him. I worked quickly, getting it into place and allowing him to lower his butt. Taking hold of the front of the diaper I pulled it all the way up and it covered his nipples. His face was concentrated with pain, so I held the diaper in place and said, "Ok, you can pee and then I will finish.
I watched the front of the diaper and soon saw a small wet spot appear beneath the plastic that continued to grow and spread all across the front.
"Done?" I asked, to which he shook his head `no'.
Wow, he was peeing a long time and I realized that he must have needed to pee since before the bath. That must have been the reason that he was trying to get me to come upstairs faster.
I could tell from the look of relief on his face that he was done, but I still asked him again, "You done this time?"
His eyes were closed and he had a serine expression as he nodded.
I finished taping the diaper into place, it was really big on him and I folded the front and back in about two inches at the top so that the diaper would fit under his arms. The front two tabs rapped all the way around his back and overlapped. I pulled the left side of the back all the way around and the two tapes were then fastened to the backside of his ribs. I did the same for the other side and said, "There you go, that should keep you going for quite a while."
Try as he might, Damien couldn't sit up on his own and needed me to pull him up. I suppose that I could have just helped him to his feet, but instead, I went ahead and lifted him into my arms, carried him to the door and pushed it closed before lowering him to the floor in front of the mirror.
His eyes were wide open as he surveyed the refection of the diapered boy that was staring back at him. With his hands, he explored the outer diaper covering and then tried to move his legs closer together, but he couldn't. There was too much diaper padding between his legs so he was forced to stand very much the way Sumo wrestlers do. Several times, he made a sound that was reminiscent of a dove cooing. As I stood behind him watching his mirrored twin, I could see that he seemed to be lost in diapered bliss, snickering at his own reflection in a giddy fashion.
"How about we get you a bedtime snack before I tuck you in for the night?" I asked, and Damien tried to turn around, but quickly lost his footing. He stumbled and fell backward onto his diapered rump.
We both laughed, "I think maybe I should carry you," I said and bent down to lift him up.
He was more than willing to let me pick him up too because he held out his arms for me. I lifted him to my chest and he instinctively hugged my neck tightly.
When we were back downstairs, he didn't want me to put him down, so I carried him over to his bottle, picked it up and handed it to him. He began to chug down the contents with machine like force, and by the time I had carried him to the kitchen and sat him down on the counter-top, it was nearly drained.
He held it in the air, and with his tongue, he made a sputtering rocket ship sound as he pretended that the empty bottle was crashing into my hand.
"What would you like for a bedtime snack?" I asked.
His expression changed and I couldn't tell for sure if he was just thinking really hard or if he was pooping again.
I swear I could see the light bulb go on over his head just before he shouted, "Pancakes!"
"Pancakes?" I said with surprise, "We don't have Pancakes for a bedtime snack; besides, all that syrup will keep you awake for hours and hours and hours." I tickled under his chin and made him laugh.
I looked in a couple of the cupboards trying to find something suitable, but it was Damien that spotted them first.
"Bagel Minis!" he shouted and caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. He laughed, knowing that he startled me.
"That's a good snack," I said, thinking aloud.
The Bagel Minis were cinnamon-spice flavored and were about an inch and a half round. I opened the back and pulled out four that were stuck together so that when the two halves were pulled apart, they were the perfect size for putting into the popup toaster.
As an extra treat for my little buddy, while the bagels were toasting, I rinsed out his bottle and filled it with milk, adding just a teaspoon of sugar in it. I then popped it into the microwave for about 20 seconds.
His eyes twinkled when he tasted it and he made a satisfying, "Aaaah!" afterwards.
I was glad when he quickly tired after eating two of the Bagel Mini's and polishing off his warm milk. He insisted that I carry him up to bed and tuck him in, but when I started to leave, he protested.
"Can you sleep with me?" he asked so sweetly.
I lay down beside him and rubbed his tummy through the large diaper until he was sound asleep. I then got up to go tidy up the house and make sure all the dirty clothes were washed, dried and put away again.
Before too long, I too was worn-out and desperate for sleep. I climbed the steps, and not wanting to disappoint Damien when he awoke the following morning, I crept into his room, pulled off the robe and climbed into bed with him.
The following morning, I was the first to awake. Actually, I had only slept about four hours. Damien had been having a dream and kicked me in his sleep. Since I was awake, I climbed out of bed, went for a quick pee before returning to the room.
Damien was lying on his back, one arm was propped behind his head and his legs were spread open due to the ample diaper material that was wrapped between them.
I was surprised when I checked his diaper and saw just how wet it was. It felt mushy to the touch and appeared to have doubled in thickness overnight. Before I changed him, I stood and basked in the wonderful sight of him lying there sleeping, wrapped in such a huge diaper.
Boy, when I opened up that diaper, I was sure surprised to find that not only had he peed more during the night, he also had pooped more. I couldn't believe that after all the poop that had come out of him the night before, that there could have been more inside of his small bowels.
Damien slept right through the diaper change. I was sure he would wake up when I lifted his legs into the air so that I could clean his bottom and slide a fresh diaper under him, but he didn't even so much as twitch. He didn't even stir when I pressed a finger wrapped with one of the wipes into his poop-shoot to make sure he was totally clean.
Instead of putting him back into one of the Tena® diapers, I thought it would be amusing to see his reaction when he woke up and saw that he was now wearing a different diaper, so I used one of the Pampers.
Damien woke up about an hour later. I was down in the basement getting my clothes from the dryer when I heard him call for me.
"Max where are you?" he sounded scared.
Wearing only my socks and underwear, I raced up the steps and found him standing in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room. The second he saw me, he ran toward me and threw his arms around my waist. I pulled him off and knelt down before him. He'd been crying and his cheeks were streaked with tears.
"What's the matter little man?" I asked.
"I couldn't find you!" he blubbered and fell on my neck whimpering.
I tried to comfort him by saying, "I'm sorry little man, its ok, I'm right here."
I looked down at the pamper I had placed on him and was surprised to see that it was hanging low on him due to having been peed in. When I cupped my hand under the sagging pouch I could feel that he'd wet but that it could probably hold another wetting. On the other hand, I really enjoyed changing him.
"Looks like someone needs changed again." I said melodiously and wiped his tears away.
He put his arms out, "Carry me?"
Nothing could have pleased me more than the way he'd taken to diapers so willingly. However, I knew that we only had a few more hours of diaper play left to us before Bill and Gladys would be home.
The rest of that morning, the two of us were inseparable. No matter where in the house I went, Damien was right there beside me. Even when we sat down to eat breakfast, he wasn't satisfied with sitting beside me, he wanted to sit on my lap.
Gone was the evil child I'd met just a few short days ago, replaced with a diaper loving sweet angel boy that only wanted to be near me and to be showered with love.
When the time drew near for his Grandparents to return, I took him to his room and told him that I'd have to put his underwear back on him. His words to me made my heart skip a beat.
"Can we do them again next time I come visit grandpa and grandma?" he asked.
"Only on one condition," I said, "You can't ever tell them what we did."
He agreed and the two of us made sure that there were no signs left anywhere that would give us away. We even thought to sneak and throw all of the dirty diapers away in the neighbor's trash. Bill and Gladys never did find out about what we had done while they were gone and Damien never discovered that the reason he had such explosive diarrhea that night was because of something I'd given him.
About two and a half weeks after Damien had gone back home, I got an envelope in the mail. The outside of the envelope had been addressed to me in blue crayon, and the return address told me it was from Damien. I opened it and inside was a crayon picture of Damien and me. Of course it didn't look anything like either of us, I only knew it was us because he'd wrote our names under each face.
If you are enjoying this story, please send me a short (or even a long) email to let me know at m12@thedoghousemail.com. You're kind words are like fuel to my creative self!