Tale #157: Max and the Megamax

Tale #157: Max and the Megamax (Content Tags: Humiliation, messy diapers, slice of life, familial bullying,) "Megamax, huh? Does that stand for mega-baby or max-tard?" He sneered as he gave the plastic-backed padding a firm, condescending pat on the rear. "N-neither! Shut up!" Came the stammering, simpering response from the other boy, as his face grew hot and pink. "They even fit your name! Lil' Maxxy got his Megamax. Are you gonna max them out?" It'd been an unfortunate turn of events over the last couple of months, and while there had been hope that things would improve, that had ended up not being the case. Considering the two-inch thick padding that entombed his lower half, and the undeniable functionality that was meant to be provided, it was clear that things had only worsened. Maxwell, or simply 'Max', wasn't always ensnared in such a puffy predicament. In fact, he'd known and taken for granted the simple joy of wearing real underwear for much of his young life; diapers hadn't been a part of the equation for the better part of the last decade, nor had he ever assumed that they would be again, at least not until he was in a retirement home. Heck, he hadn't even considered for a moment that diapers were made for kids his age, barring the glorified pull-ups that bedwetters were made to wear. He'd learned how wrong he was over the last couple of months, and unfortunately with firsthand experience being the tutor. Manufacturers indeed *did* make diapers in all sizes and for all ages, and the primary reason he didn't know that was because he'd never seen it as necessary to rub elbows with the drooling nitwits in the special classes, nor had he met any poor souls around his age who were functionally incontinent. That'd all changed too. Terrence, whom Max considered to be a real terror, was tickled pink by all the changes that'd enveloped Max's life lately. The older boy was Max's stepbrother, whom he had rarely had to see up until recently, and by Max's own judgment, was a complete jerkwad. He was the one callously mocking the garment now around Max's waist. Max's parents had divorced several years ago, and it'd been a rather acrimonious split between the two. His younger sister had gone with his mother, and Max had gone with his father; while the court order had been to allow shifting custody of the pair, so that both were to be seen by both parents, that'd simply not happened. His mother had moved halfway across the country and started life anew, while his father had thrown himself into his work, which had left Max to learn how to care for himself in many ways. Max had only been six or seven at the time, and so he'd resented the sudden breaking of his family, but there had been plenty of time for those wounds to heal. Or at least so he thought. As it would turn out, those wounds would never properly heal with him stuffing those emotions down beneath the surface of his psyche, and they would instead fester like an untreated wound. The turmoil inside would eventually manifest itself into a terrible anxiety disorder, and later on would bring forth the very symptoms that would eventually result in his shameful diapering. In the years that would pass, his father wouldn't remarry, but would have a litany of short-lived relationships with various women. Max never allowed himself to get too close to any of them, since he knew their presence in his life would be ephemeral, and he had no desire to let himself feel hurt by their eventual disappearance. His mother on the other hand was very quick to remarry, but that was only because she got with the very man that had been the prime instigator of the divorce in the first place. Burt had been a 'work friend' that Max had seen a handful of times whenever his parents were still together, and as it would turn out, he was the one who his mother had been having an affair with. It wasn't exactly fair to say that his mother's infidelity was the only reason that his parents had gotten divorced, because that would be reductionist and would absolve his father of any wrongdoings during their marriage. No, his father had an equal stake in where the blame was to lie, as he'd always put his work first and had been quite the philanderer himself. The difference being that his father's trysts were emotionally meaningless to him and were only a matter of lust, whereas his mother's cheating had been with one person and had been for the purpose of building an entirely new relationship. So neither were blameless, and it was ultimately for the best that they parted ways, but that hadn't made it any easier for an ignorant little boy to swallow. It'd only been spite that had left him with his father during the divorce proceedings; his mother had wanted full custody of both children, and while his father didn't really want to take on the responsibilities of childcare, he hadn't been willing to let his wife get everything that she'd wanted. Max's little sister had only been a preschooler at the time, which would have obviously been a lot more work, so the man had focused his efforts on keeping Max. He could still remember that day in court, even though it was nearly four years ago; the judge had asked him questions about his parents, and being six at the time, he'd not had very informed answers to give. Earlier that morning, his father had made a promise to get him any toys he wanted, so long as he said that he wanted to stay with him; it was supposed to be a secret, and Max had kept that secret, without any real knowledge of what the result would be. Being young and ignorant, Max still blamed himself for what had transpired. He'd felt awful to see the look of betrayal on his mother's face, whenever he had stupidly requested to stay by his father's side. He thought about it often, about how things might have been different if he hadn't been as selfish. There was a strong chance that he wouldn't be standing in front of a pernicious preteen, while clad in a humiliatingly large diaper if that'd been the case. It was around three months prior to that moment, whenever Max's life had undergone another grand shift; it'd been right before his tenth birthday, and that'd made the special day a bittersweet feast for his underdeveloped emotional health. His father, ever vigilant in his career, had been offered a wonderful opportunity at a promotion. The kicker? He would need to move out of the country, and more than that, he would living somewhere where his hands-off parenting approach would be called and charged as what it really was: neglect. It didn't really hurt that much for his dad to pick his career over his son; Max hadn't had much of a relationship with the man at any point in the past, and he often felt more like an ignored roommate rather than a precious child. Max made his own meals, he set his own schedules, and he made excuses for why his dad was never a participant in any school functions that would involve him. That wasn't to say that Max was really responsible enough to be his own caretaker, as it was actually quite the contrary; he was ten, so things like vegetables, brushing, homework, and showers were all seen as optional to him. If his dad hadn't already been moving them around as frequently as he did, then there probably would have been an open CPS case against the man for how little effort he put into childcare. The end result of Max spending the last four years as his own guardian wasn't a pretty one, and it could easily make for a cautionary tale to scare other children into understanding why their parents were so necessary in the first place. To start, Max was malnourished; he wasn't starved by any means, and he still had some baby fat on him, but his nutritional needs had been completely neglected, which had resulted in poor development. He was smaller than he should have been, and he'd come to have tummy problems from his own poor diet; his teeth were in poor shape too, which luckily his baby teeth had taken the brunt of the damage. The boy didn't sleep nearly enough, which not only tanked his energy but had contributed to stunting his body and mind. His educational goals were way out of whack too, since he'd never felt the need to take school seriously, as there'd been no consequences, which meant he was behind in most subjects. He was halfway feral, at least by the standards that his new home would find, with even his hair being long, unkempt, and downright unruly. Apparently it had taken quite a bit of groveling from his father for this new arrangement to work out; the man desperately needed Max out of the picture, and the boy's mother was the only person he thought to dump the lad on. Max hadn't seen his mother or his little sister in years, since they'd lived so far away, and he could only remember a handful of phone calls that landed on his birthday. As estranged as he was from the father he lived with, he felt even more-so from the mother that he'd turned his back on. When the time came, his father sat him on an airplane and waved him off, with the vague promise that he'd come see Max during Christmas. Max didn't really believe that, or care for that matter, but he'd simply nodded his head and put in his earbuds. It was a five hour flight, and he'd fallen asleep around the third, only to be awkwardly awakened by a stewardess when the plane had landed. "Oh, sweetie, I think you might have had an accident..." The three sodas had probably had something to do with that, but bedwetting itself wasn't anything too shocking for the boy, as it happened once or twice a week. Usually he was in a position to hide the evidence though, in the privacy of his room, instead of sitting in a damp plane chair with the front of his jeans totally hosed. That had encapsulated the first impression he made pretty well. A small, scraggly boy with pee-soaked pants. It'd certainly added to the awkwardness of seeing his mom again, that was for sure. She'd already likely been disappointed to see what her boy had become in these four years, and seeing that dark stain running down his pantlegs couldn't have helped. She did help him clean up in the airport bathroom, even though he insisted he could handle it himself, so he'd at least be going to his new home in somewhat clean pants. The ride there had been uncomfortable for the two of them, as they'd almost become like strangers in the time they had spent apart. Six to ten was an eternity for a child, but even for an adult it was a long time; not because of the number of years themselves, but because of the vast development that happened at that age. Max was practically unrecognizable from the little first grader that she'd last seen. He'd only had an identifiable personality for a few of the years that she'd known him, and four years was enough to make him into someone completely different. Similarly, Max didn't feel like he knew the woman that was driving him home all that well; she looked and sounded different than what he remembered, and he wasn't sure what a responsible parent even looked like. The bedwetting had come up, and with it, so had other unsavory details, all of which would ultimately be used against him in the coming months of him staying with her. Thinking about it now made his head spin a little. So much had happened in such a short time! Case in point was the diaper that Terrence was now laughing at... "They better help with the stink, at least. The way you're going, I'm thinking I might want to trade you for Collin." The older boy said, as he theatrically pinched his nose shut with his fingers. "The only thing that stinks around here is your breath, since you're talkin' crap all the time." Max retorted, thinking himself oh-so clever. Max knew that wasn't completely an idle threat either, or a lame joke. Collin, his little half-brother, was accelerating toward the time to get pottytrained, while Max had literally just again been demoted for his toileting failures. It was just another thing that made him resent the toddler. With only three bedrooms to spread out between the four kids in the house, it'd been ultimately the decision that Max and Terrence would be sharing the largest one. Max's younger sister, Erin, got the medium-sized one to herself, and Collin got the smallest as his own little nursery. Terrence had already been pushing to move Max to one of the other two bedrooms, which was a petition that had started before he had even arrived, but it just hadn't appeared all that feasible. Both him and Collin wouldn't comfortably fit in the nursery, and Erin had been extremely adamant about not giving up any of her own space, which Max wouldn't have wanted anyway. That just left the pair of preteens who were only a couple of years apart, and that'd been a logistical nightmare all on its own. "What'd you frickin' say to me?" Terrence narrowed his eyes at the smaller boy, having little patience for his bratty backtalk. That made Max recoil and sheepishly fold his arms; he'd been a lot less timid before he'd come here, but enough time in this household had started to break him down. He wasn't necessarily afraid of Terrence on a physical level, because he'd been quite the scrapper at his old school, but he feared the other consequences that might come his way. Terrence was Burt's son from his previous marriage, and Burt also really didn't seem to like Max. There were plenty of reasons why this was the case, but few of them were ones that Max could hope to understand at his young age. What he did understand was that he was treated with a lot more scrutiny and a lot less dignity by the man. It was Burt's call that he was standing here in the massive Megamax! So getting into trouble with his siblings, even if he was in the right, was really just a losing proposition from the start. It'd just mean unjust consequences, and Max had already had his fill of those. "...Nothing. I'm sorry." The boy sighed as he looked down at the carpet. "Yeah, I'll say." Terrence quipped, before pinching the waistband of the large diaper and pulling it out. "And I thought the stupid pull-ups were for dumb babies!" He snickered again and let the waistband snap back into place, "Maybe once Collin is out of diapers, then you can take his place in that crib." Max felt his face get hot, but that wasn't the only thing; his lower gut was feeling hot too, like there was a boiling lake down there, and he knew what that must mean. These accidents had only gotten worse since he arrived, and he felt his grip on control becoming weakened with each passing humiliation that he had to suffer. He knew he was about to poop. There were maybe only a couple of minutes before it became an unstoppable event. It'd take longer then that to make it to the toilet and get this diaper down, so he'd already accepted that he was about to crap his pants again. The one thing he could control was trying to avoid letting Terrence see him christening this bulky new brand. If he fled now and found a lonesome spot to do his business, then he could at least keep a shred of his pride intact. Wordless, he turned from his older stepbrother and started to walk away, while his Megamax noisily rustled with his every widened step. No longer still, the countdown in his bowels accelerated, and he could feel quiet farts already beginning to slip on out. "Oh, what's the matter? Does baby need to go cry?" Terrence mocked with a big grin, thinking that Max was barely holding back tears, whenever he was actually struggling to hold something else back entirely. Max didn't care what Terrence thought he was going to go do, so long as he let him do it in peace. He'd soiled himself in front of his stepbrother a few times already, but the least he could do was mitigate that number from rising any higher. The gurgling in his gut grew more tumultuous with every crinkly step, and the boy was clenching his buttcheeks as tightly as the cumbersome padding would allow, but the flatulence continued to assault the diaper with extreme prejudice. How had he let things devolve this far? How had he become so much less self-reliant since changing homes? The answer would come in the unwelcome form of the man suddenly stepping in front of him, just as Max had nearly made it to the backdoor. It was the manifestation of all his current problems, all rolled up into an unassuming stepfather that nobody else would ever peg for being a literal bully. "Heading outside?" Burt asked, looking down at the scrawny kid with a raised eyebrow. "Y-yes sir..." Max mumbled, unable to make eye contact with the man. Stopping so suddenly had been a mistake for his bowels, and he could feel his control rapidly crumbling where he stood. Another quiet fart slowly spewed into the padding, one that felt impossibly hot, and which was the last canary in the coal mine. "Well, tell your sister to make sure that Collin doesn't need a diaper change. Also, dinner will be ready in an hour." Max nodded his head, but he wasn't listening. There was too much internal turmoil to be listening to anything but the groaning of his own overburdened bowels. He tried to take another step forward, but he couldn't; his feet were planted firmly in place for a reason. **SPPPLLLLAAARRT!** The magmatic mush erupted into his Megamax like a volcano, and the smoldering stool swiftly spread all across his backside like lava. It wasn't subtle, it wasn't quiet, and it wasn't quick to end. The molten muck bubbled against his skin as it pumped out into the diaper in waves, each sloppy round punctuated by the squishy plopping and fetid flatulence of a boy that had been rightfully diapered. He could feel the garment getting heavy and sagging a little bit from all the smelly weight, but the Megamax didn't falter for even a moment. It accepted his tribute with open arms, ready to take more than he could possibly give. "Are you trying to tell me something, Max? Is that why you decided to mess yourself in front of me?" Gus inquired, not out of genuine curiosity, but simply as a means to further shame the lad. "N-no sir..." Max whimpered, shutting an eye as the last of the sludge spewed out of him and piled up in the back of the diaper. "I guess I was right to buy you those, wasn't I?" He didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to let the man win, especially after all that he'd done in such a short time. There was no choice though, not if he wanted to stay in Gus' good graces. "...Y-yes sir. Thank you..." Max mewled. He felt a sudden pat on the back of his bulging bottom, and the freshly deposited poop squished under the heavy hand of his cruel stepfather. "Good answer. Now go out and play, and you can get a change before dinner."