What if tomorrow's children are even more vain, incompetent, distracted, selfish, and apathetic than they are today? Fawning parents, unrealistic self-esteem, and technology that makes the simplest tasks obsolete all conspire to create an generation of kids that are just flat out dumb.
This is idiocracy. This is Aldous Huxley's nightmare that we are all too apathetic and numbed by television and pop-culture to care. Books don't have to be burned, because no one wants to read in the first place. This is also a diaper story, because I am a pervert.
I got the idea today when reading an article about 'Helicopter Parents'. They are basically parents that hover and dote on their children so much that they never become self-sufficient.
This is likely going to be a short story, because I am a busy person. I wrote this quickly and as smut, not literature. Let me know what you think.
Helicopter Parents.
"WEHR R U" beeped into Bella's MyPhone 6 as she tapped messily on the crystal clear touch screen. She always had a hard time typing into this thing. The phone just wasn't designed for her long painted nails.
Bella sighed as she read that the text message was sent. Her mother was late. She was never late and she always answered her text messages. Bella couldn't remember the last time her mother had ignored her like this. Six messages later, in the span of ten minutes, and Bella still had not heard from her mother. Standing awkwardly in the center of the kitchen, Bella stomped her feet in frustration. This just wasn't fair.
She made her way over to the refrigerator. Maybe there was something she could eat in there. Her mother was late and she was starving for dinner. She opened up the fridge and gave a quick scan of its contents. Often, her mother would keep quick snacks stocked in the fridge, ready to be eaten with a quick rip of the packaging. It seemed like the maid hadn't been to the grocery store recently, as she didn't see anything she could eat. She pushed aside the carton of eggs, the gallon of milk, the sealed leftovers from last nights dinner, the sandwich meats, cheeses, and vegetables, as she explored the deepest recesses of the fridge for something, anything, that she could eat.
Moaning with frustration at the futility of her search, she slammed the fridge and moved to the cupboards. She pulled a can off the shelf. Soup. "I like soup, right?" she asked herself. She had seen her mother make it a dozen times before. Pop the lid, and put it in the microwave. She turned the can over in her hands. "I just put it in the microwave, right?" she asked to no one in particular. "Where's the lid?" she asked again. Turning the can over in her hands, she searched in vain for some sort of lid, pop-top, or pull-string. This can required a can-opener. She didn't know can-openers existed. Dejected, she put the can back on the shelf and turned her attention back to her phone. No messages.
The house was empty as it slowly grew dark outside and shadows crept along the walls of the dim house. She hadn't bothered to turn on a light..Bella was alone in the house. An only child of two overprotective parents. Her mother sued people and her father traveled on business all the time. He was in Europe right now, wherever that is. She had never bothered to ask how exactly they make their money. Bella stomped upstairs, figuring she would watch some TV in the meantime. She peeked briefly in to her large bathroom to check on her complexion. She had noticed a red spot beginning to form on her cheek. Ugh. This just wasn't fair.
After checking her skin and applying a small dolop of something from a tube, she turned her attention to her figure. She admired her shapely hips, butt, and trim midsection. She had a modest, although perky, chest. Her mother had said they could 'take care' of her mediocre assets when she graduated High School. "It's not like it's a big deal", she whispered to herself as she cupped her chest in her hands. "Why can't we just do it now?" She knew a dozen girls her age or younger who had already gotten their breasts fixed. "I wish I had different parents." she said to herself in the mirror. She thought briefly about her mother, and how she had said she got the name 'Bella' from some book. "That's stupid," she thought at the time, "no one reads books."
She quickly groomed her soft brown hair, adjusting how it fell over her ears, making sure it adhered to the latest fashion. She was wearing a tight green t-shirt that was clinging provacatively to her figure and a pair of tight jeans that she loved to admire her butt in. She pulled up the hem of her shirt and covered her belly with both hands. Despite having a trim midsection without an ounce of fat, she still thought she was obese, or thats what the television told her anyway. She turned to the side in the mirror to see her trim belly from another angle. As she pressed on her stomach it growled with hunger. Peeking out from the top of her hip-hugging jeans was a soft white plastic hem. A diaper. Bella was never potty trained.
Bella wasn't the only one in her school that wasn't potty trained. There was actually quite a growing trend among middle and upper class American families to let their children stay in diapers. It was easier than battling them over the potty. It was also easier to acquiesce to their childrens desires than hurt their feelings.
She fixed her shirt back over her pants and turned to admire her butt in the mirror. She glanced past the toilet. It was sparkling clean, unused, with the lid down. She only used the potty at her mothers urging, often every morning to do her business, or sometimes in the early evening. Her mother would untape her diaper, have her sit, and wait approvingly as she finished, and then wipe her clean. There was no toilet paper, only a tub of moist wipes that slid out one-by-one as they are pulled.
She hoped her mother would be coming home soon. Her diaper was feeling uncomfotably wet up against her shaven sex, and she especially hoped her mother would come home and sit her on the toilet. She hadn't used the potty this morning, and she felt like she might mess her diaper soon if her mother didn't come. She messed often, but didn't really like doing it. Especially if she was somewhere that her mother couldn't change her right away.
Bella thought briefly about taking off her diaper and sitting on the potty herself. She thought about what she might have to do; untape the diaper, raise the lid, sit down, and when she was finished, use those moist wipes to get clean. It all sounded way too complicated. She couldn't remember the last time she had removed her diaper herself, let alone clean, and rediaper herself. She didn't even know off the top of her head where her mother kept her diaper supplies. She whined slightly remembering her hungry stomach and how her mother has adandoned her. She left the bathroom, not bothering to turn off the light.
Down the hall, she made her way to her large bedroom. The walls were plastered with images of teen icons, pictures of her and her friends, and cut-outs from fashion magazines. Her backpack was lying unused on her bed. She technically had homework tonight, but the charter school she attended didn't actually give out grades, for fear of upsetting some of the children, so she never did it. They were all special, after all, and everyone was a winner. If she had some project that she was required to do, her parents completed the assignment for her. This was typical for students at the charter school, anyway.
She crossed the room and sat on the corner of her bed, feeling the moist diaper press against her crotch. She leaned down to unvelcro her sneakers. Her parents had never taught her how to tie laces. She slipped them off and flung them to the opposite end of the room.She shoved her backpack off the bed and laid down facing the TV. It was four hours since her mother dropped her off from school, changed her diaper, and promised to be back shortly to fix dinner. Fading rays of light shined through her window, barely illuminating the dim bedroom. She hadn't bothered to turn on a light. She grabbed the remote control off her nightstand and turned on the flatscreen TV mounted on the wall across from her bed. "O! M! G!" she said aloud, as she saw advertisements for the new season of some mind-numbing reality television show. The television projected brilliant colors across her darkening room, lighting up the walls with blues, greens, and reds.
She continued to watch as it grew dark outside. Not that Bella would have noticed except for a pang of hunger that rumbled in her stomach and brought her attention back to her situation. She reached for her phone, checking for messages. Nothing. She tapped quickly on the phones screen, sending another message to her vagrant mother. "WER U!!!!111" she asked in vain. Her stomach rumbled again and this time she realized it wasn't just her stomach that needed relieving. She threw her phone against her pillow. "God dammit, mom!" she yelled, frustrated, hungry, and feeling defeated now that she was assuredly going to mess her diaper.
She whined as she sat up on her knees, leaning forward on her hands, eyes now once again fixed on the flashing TV screen. Mouth agape, eyes glassy, she slowly pushed. Her fingers curled around her bedspread, each tightly gripping a handful of blanket for leverage. Within seconds, she felt a warm mass push itself into the seat of her diaper. She fought against her tight jeans, pushing until the mess exited fully into her diaper. She felt a small trickle of urine escape into her waiting diaper as she finished filling her seat. She stayed sitting up on her knees, hands on the bed in front of her for several minutes, lost in the television. Probably forgetting exactly what she had just done. Slowly her butt lowered itself down onto the bed as she stared at the TV. She sat back with the mess under her until the show cut to commercial, during which she seemed to regain a sense of her surroundings.
Her bowels felt better but her stomach still growled with hunger. She could smell what she had just done in her diaper, but she didn't care. It was someone elses problem, and it was unfair of them to leave her like this. She checked her phone once more. No messages. Bella was a little worried at this point. Not for the safety of her mother, but for herself. It was a selfish worry. "Who's going to make me dinner, change my diaper, and buy me things if something happened?" she thought to herself. She considered texting her father. But he never answered her messages when he was travelling.
Her show resumed and she made herself comfortable as she was once again glued herself to the TV. She didn't quite know what time it was when her show ended and she looked around the room.It was pitch black now, save for the dancing lights of the television. Bella stood up from her bed and walked across the room to turn on her lights. The lights flicked on and she thought she heard a car park outside. She walked over to her window and looked down at the driveway in front of her home. A car was sitting in the driveway. It didn't look familiar, but then again, she never really paid attention to the kind of car her mother drove. She just knew it was expensive.
Bella rushed downstairs, shouting as she did. "Fuck, mom! Where have you been!?" As she hustled down the stairs, she was reminded of the mess filling her diaper and the dampness around her crotch. She needed a change, bad. She was thankful for the thick layer of diaper cream her mother usually applied that kept her skin from getting irritated by her mess. Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, the lights flicked on in the living room. She yelled again, "Mom! Fuck! I said where have you been!?" She reached the bottom and turned the corner, stopping suddenly when she saw that it wasn't her mom.
Maria was the housekeeper for the Johnsons for several years now. She grew up poor in Chile and had thought herself incredibly blessed to be working for the Johnsons, who paid her more than she had expected. Maria also had utter contempt for their wealth, vanity, and laziness. Especially how they treated their daughter. As Maria set down her bags on the table, she heard Bella yelling obscenities from the stairwell. To Maria, it was unimaginable that they would never potty train their daughter, let her shit and piss herself, and then lavish gifts and attention onto her, despite her horrible behavior. Maria never spoke her opinion though. She did her job, and kept her contempt for the Johnsons secret. But everytime Maria saw Bella, she was incredible humilated for the girl. Especially when she was called on to tend to her diaper. Maria had to hide her shame for what she was complicit in everytime she tended to Bella's whims. Bella herself was completely obvlivious to Maria's true feelings. Or, she just didn't care. She was just some 'stupid mexican' afterall. Bella had never bothered to learn the difference between any other South American country and Mexico. But the money was too good, and Maria considered herself lucky. The Johnsons were pretty typical of upper class America.
Bella turned the corner to see Maria taking off her coat. "Wheres my mom?" Bella demanded. Maria could smell the mess in Bella's diaper, and a wave of disgust rose up in her. Maria took a moment to respond, intentionally drawing it out to grate on Bella's nerves. "Your mother called me to come and fix you dinner." Maria said paitnetly in her accented English, trying to ignore the frustrated girl. Maria crossed over through the livingroom to turn on a light in the kitchen. Bella stood there looking sour, hands on her hips, watching the maid begin to fix some dinner. "I want something good to eat." Bella said, as she wandered over to observe what Maria was making.
Bella took a seat at a stool at the kitchen counter. As she sat, the mess inside her diaper spread itself further, reminding her again of what filled her pants. A normal person would feel some shame over her situation. Not being capable or willing to deal with her own messy diaper. This thought never occured to Bella, and she certainly never felt shame. "I need my diaper changed, like, um, any day now." she said with a smirk. Maria flinched as she pushed that unsavory reality out of her mind. "Once you eat your dinner," Maria said, as she slid a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of Bella. Bella groaned, but started eating the sandwiches anyways. She was too hungry to complain.
Bella wolfed down the sandwiches, leaving the crusts, and finished a glass of juice that Maria had placed in front of her. For just sandwiches and juice, she had made quite a mess. Crumbs coated the kitchen counter and her greasy fingers left cheesy smudges on the tile.Maria unconsciously wiped Bella's hands and face with a wet paper towel.
"Go lie down on your changing mat," Maria said, taking the plate "Then we go see your mom." Bella hopped off the stool and squirmed a little as she stood trying to adjust her diaper to be in a more comfortable position. That's when she noticed a wet feeling down her leg. Her diaper had leaked. Huge wet spots formed at the leg gatheres around her diaper. "Look what you did, Maria," Bella snapped as she went over to the raised table where she has her diaper changed in the living room. Standing next to the table, she unbuttoed her jeans, wiggles out of them, and then crawled on top of the table. Bella pulled out her phone and absent mindedly tapped out a message to her friend about the 'stupid maid'.
Maria finished putting the dishes away before coming over to Bella. She scooted her over slightly, adjusting her hips, before peeling off the tapes, one at a time. She slowly peeled the wet diaper from between her legs, readying herself for the mess inside. Maria slowly went to work cleaning the teenage girls bottom. She used wipe after wipe until Bella was clean. She slid a fresh diaper under her butt and applied diaper cream and powder. Finally, she taped the diaper snugly in place.
Bella swung her legs over the side of the table and hopped off. "Now, go get dressed, we are going to see your mom," Maria said, as she handled the soiled diaper bundle. Bella felt much better now that her diaper was clean. She crinkled up the stairs, leaving her pee-soaked jeans on the floor for Maria to deal with.
Bella went into her bathroom to make sure her hair and face looked presentable. She applied some lip gloss, fixed her hair, and again admired her form in the mirror. Her diaper fit snug around her hips and crotch, with non-descript pink designs covering the tapes and front of the diaper. They were a brand marketed for girls in just her situation. One's that had never been potty trained. When she was finished, she turned and strolled down her hallway to her bedroom. She heard Maria calling for her to hurry from downstairs. Bella selected another pair of jeans and pulled them on over her diaper, adjusted her form-fitting t-shirt, and sat at the edge of her bed with some socks. She pulled them on, one at a time, and finally went over to her sneakers. She velcroed her shoes up and heading downstairs.
Maria was waiting with her coat on and bags ready when Bella finally came downstairs. Bella was ushered outside into the dark, and finally into the passenger seat of Maria's modest car. Bella sat there tapping at her phone, oblivious to Maria asking her to put on her seatbelt. Finally, Maria just did it for her. "Where are we going anyways?" asked Bella..
Maria looked grim "The hospital. Your mother was in a car crash." Bella didn't look up from her phone.
Home 
.
