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The Impossibility of Impossibilities, Part 19
🕑 Added 2022-06-27 07:03:11 +0000 UTCWill awoke in his playpen. It was only a little larger than an average playpen, let alone the gargantuan one he had conjured for his penthouse, but he wasn't bothered. Far from it, in fact. With his “Obedience to Janet” Diaper securely taped around his waist, he knew today was going to be nothing but fun. He knew full well that Janet had betrayed and enslaved him, with a lot of help from Christine. He knew that Janet had forced him to grant her virtually unlimited power, and that she was currently reigning over all humanity as an omnipotent goddess. He knew that he was now trapped in a twisted parody of a high school that he himself had created as a way of humiliating Christine for her pleasure and his sadistic entertainment. He didn't mind any of that, either. If anyone was upset about this turn of events, it certainly wasn't Will. The diaper between his legs was blasting a constant stream of happiness and pleasure into his consciousness, even as it compelled him to accept an existence of being constantly degraded. He yawned and stretched in anticipation of another beautiful day in Christine's Humiliation School.
He eagerly rubbed his hands together as the fluorescent lights in the school corridor came to life. The playpen where he now spent his nights was in the main hallway, between the main entrance and the lockers, so that everyone who attended the school would have the chance to mock him as they entered. He was dressed in nothing but his diaper and a light blue tee shirt, which proudly identified him as a “Grade-A Certified Bedwetter”.
“Attention Will!Attention, Will! Time to piss your Pampers! Repeat! Time to piss your Pampers!” sang Janet's voice over the intercom. Her grinning face appeared on several television screens that were scattered across the hallways and in each classroom. The messages sounded convincingly like Janet's voice, even though they were probably no more than the product of an idle thought on her part. Janet had wanted the school to humiliate Will, so the magic that he had already imbued into it was now working to do exactly that. Waves of pure joy blasted through Will as he eagerly obeyed his first humiliating command of the day, forcing a stream of piss into his Obedience Diaper. He chuckled as the image of his unquestionable Mistress on the front swelled outward as the thick padding expanded. The diaper had already been soggy, of course. One of the first instructions Janet's booming voice had given him was that he would wet the bed every night from now on, and her word was law.
The main doors of the school swung open, as the first of the students began to arrive.
“Morning, Dumbass.” said Betty. She approached wearing the new school uniform. Will's own design had been intended to make Christine feel as inferior to her rivals as possible, and had consisted of flowing Grecian robes in a variety of colors. The new uniform was less elaborate, consisting of a simple white blouse, a pair of tight-fitting blue jeans, and crisp white sneakers. Today, her shirt was decorated with the words “Will's Babysitter” across the front in bold, multi-colored letters The most essential part of the uniform was the pink diaper bag worn over the shoulder. It was also clearly marked with the words “Will's Diapers” in matching font. All the students carried them, apart from Will. No one bothered with a backpack at this school. There were no books to read for these classes. The only supplies anyone might need were spare “Obedience to Janet” diapers, baby wipes, baby powder, and plus-size pacifiers. As Betty approached, more women in near-identical uniforms crowded in behind her. It wasn't their turn to deal with Will directly today, but proper humiliation requires an audience.
“Good Morning, Mommy!” greeted Will. His face was already pinkish, but he blushed bright red as the words left his mouth. He knew that her name was Betty, and that she had been selected to babysit him today. The women drew lots at the end of each day to see who would be taking charge of him the following day. Another of the “standing orders” that Will was now magically bound to obey was that he address whoever was babysitting him as “Mommy”. The embarrassment was like new every time.
The crowd of onlookers covered their mouths and sniggered, although not very convincingly. They were compelled by the school's power to fulfill their roles as Will's mocking witnesses, but they had all long since grown bored with the repetition. They were also beginning to wonder whether this would be all existence would be from now on. Any kind of repetitive schedule becomes a torment after a while, and they hadn't been thrilled to be here even on day one. Thanks to Will, aging and death were no longer in force. If Janet didn't decide to release them, they might just be here for eternity. They had met Janet, so they knew that the possibility of her even thinking about them was remote, and even if she did, she would most likely only make things that much worse for them.
The women had very little to fill out their time here. Gossiping was a good pastime, but without the opportunity to spend much time apart, the gossip had rapidly turned into an echo chamber. They spent most of their time complained among themselves about Will, the endless monotony, the awful stench, and about all of the constant complaining. Complaining about Janet, or even mentioning her name, was generally considered far too risky now that she ruled the world with iron fist and a diapered rear. However, what they feared even more than angering Janet was the yawning abyss of time that now stretched out before them. Even acting out the insane play that was Will's class schedule was better than contemplating the future. If nothing changed, eventually boredom would give way to despair. Their purgatory would become more intolerable each day, until the sweet embrace of utter madness took them. They scoffed at Will's childish faux pas with grim looks in their eyes.
Betty snorted derisively as she grabbed Will by the upper arm and drew him over the rails of the play-pen. He allowed himself to be moved without resistance. She was in charge of him today, by Janet's orders, so he was only too happy to go along with whatever she wanted. She gently pulled the waistband of Will's diaper out and dug to two fingers into it for the obligatory morning diaper check.“Soggy diaper already, I see. I guess somebody still has a little bedwetting problem, huh?”
She spoke her lines with relaxed indifference. This wasn't any fun for her anymore. The thrill of sadistic glee at getting revenge on the man who had trapped them here had worn off pretty quickly over the last week. Now, keeping the never-ending train of shame going was just a job. They did it because they had no choice. Tormenting someone who is clearly having more fun than you is not much fun once the initial novelty has worn off.
“Yep! I peed in my diaper last night, cuz I'm a bedwetter!” explained Will excitedly. He was also required by Janet's inviolable laws to keep his diapers and his uncontrolled use thereof at the center of his conversation. “But then I woke up and wet myself even more!” Keeping quiet was likewise forbidden. His mouth was just like everything else in his life now: an instrument of Janet's will, intended to humiliate him as much as possible. His pulse raced. He loved every second of it.
She clicked her tongue, as though she were displeased, but not surprised, by this result. She didn't put any effort into making her performance convincing. The magical forces that governed Christine's Humiliation School compelled her to stick to the inane program, but not to be a good actor. “Tsk, tsk. That sure does explain why we have to keep the big baby in his big ol' huggies, doesn't it? Well, come on, let's go make a record of this for posterity.”
She led Will a short distance down the corridor to the first stop of the day: Will's Potty-Training Chart. It hung on the wall in the main hallway, so that everyone would have a chance to see his record for the month. Images of cartoon toilets danced merrily around the border. Each day of the month was divided into three sections.
Betty handed Will a bright red marker. “Put a big fat “X” on today for nighttime dryness, and then another one for daytime dryness.” she instructed. Will grinned as he carried out her orders. The red ink had a little glitter mixed in, to highlight Will's record of accidents. Betty delicately took the pen from Will's hand when he had finished. “Gee, I sure hope you don't have to put another “X” up there later today...although your track record suggests that you will.”
Will looked down at his bare feet, although his smile never wavered. “Yes Mommy! I just can't help making stinkies in my diapers, can I?”
Betty solemnly patted him on the head. “You'll just have to try harder, Stinky-Pants.”
Will nodded. He really would try. Now that he had been told to by his designated babysitter, he had no other choice. Still, it wasn't as though he had any actual possibility of success. The potty chart was proof of that. It had been made very clear that Will was to receive only one diaper change per day, and that would only take place when the diaper was so absurdly full that he could barely walk anymore. Despite the pretense of being in the midst of potty-training, there was literally no possibility that he would ever use the potty like a big boy ever again. Will didn't mind that one bit. In a world where leaky diapers and rashy butts were physically impossible, the only real victim would be the women who had to smell him all day. They would complain plenty, of course, but neither he nor they could do a thing to countermand Janet's dictates.
“Come along, Dumbass. Your first class today is Feeding 101.” said Betty, again taking Will's arm and dragging him toward the appropriate classroom. The crowd promptly followed, magically unable to let Will out of their sight. They got very little time to themselves these days, now that they were required to attend class every day. Outside these walls, they were just citizens of Willtopia, with all the privileges and absurdity that implied (apart from the diapers, which Christine, and then Janet, had cruelly denied them). Even now that Willtopia was mostly a burning wreck inhabited by Janet's degraded slaves, they preferred being out there to being in here. They waited as long as possible before Janet's power began irresistibly drawing them back toward the hated mock high school. Being dragged back to watch Will grin as he worked his way through his schedule of humiliations felt like a prison sentence. In short, they all looked about as pleased to be there as actual high-school students.
“Woooh. Somebody sure needs a changie-poo.” said Marcy in a bored monotone, holding her nose theatrically as she marched along. “Hi Marcy!” answered Will, his enthusiasm in sharp contrast to her indifference. “Would it be okay if I kiss your butt? I'll pretend that it's Janet's!” He offered with off-putting enthusiasm.
She groaned inwardly, but she ignored him as she filed past. He had already kissed her ass so often that the act had lost all meaning. It was nothing but a chore for her now. Frankly, the smell of Will's soggy diaper barely bothered her at all. She knew it would be so much worse later.
“Ah. Does the stupid little baby have a soggy diapee? What a fucking loser.” said another woman, without inflection.
Will laughed. “I sure do, Krystal ! Man, I am such a loser! Janet sure defeated my dumb ass, didn't she?”
The five-minute bell rang.
“Attention all students!” called Janet's voice from the intercom. “It is time for Will's Feeding class. All students are required to attend. Willy needs his nums-nums, dudn't he?!” she finished the announcement in a sickeningly sweet baby talk.
Betty led Will into the Feeding Classroom and sealed him into a highchair at the head of the class. The school always manifested whatever materials or props were needed for class. In this case, a large salad bowl filled with a pasty greenish muck sprang into being in front of Will, followed closely by a spoon that was just small enough to fit uncomfortably in Will's mouth. Betty got Will ready by pulling off his shirt and replacing it with a white bib. It read “Messy Baby” in bright, yellow letters. She picked up the spoon and scooped up a large pile of the pasty concoction, pressing it to Will's lips. The other women sat despondently as they watched the ordeal play out.
“Eat up, baby. There's a good boy. Here comes the airplane. Brrrr.” she recited, her eyes full of resigned boredom. Will ate several heaping spoonfuls with great enthusiasm. Despite the fact that the substance tasted like a combination of broccoli, spinach, rutabaga, and armpit, Will genuinely enjoyed it, since eating it was an act of obedience.
“Attention Will! You will eat like a messy toddler! Repeat: Eat like a messy toddler!” ordered Janet's booming voice, as it always did this time of day.
The crowd of watching classmates chatted among themselves as Will's mealtime dragged on. As ordered, Will squirmed and jumped unpredictably in his seat, forcing Betty to try more and more maternal trickery to guide the oversized spoon into his mouth.
“So...how's stuff?” asked Danielle, as Will knocked the bowl of mush onto the floor for the hundred and ninth time. A replacement immediately materialized in front of him. He giggled stupidly as the mess on the floor magically evaporated.
“Oh, you know.” said Marcie, flicking a globule of mush off her shirt. “Same ol', same ol'.”
Danielle was having a hard time containing her frustration. “Well...make something up! I dunno! We're gonna have to figure out some way to stay...entertained here.”
Marcy hung her head and sighed. The fact that Will was experiencing this banal purgatory as a whirlwind of delight and exaltation had angered her, at first. The situation was primarily Will's fault, after all, and the fact that he was clearly having a wonderful time and she wasn't would make even a reasonable and compassionate person irritable, let alone the kind of woman that had signed up to be Christine's personal tormentor. She wanted Will to suffer for what he had done, and watching him happily laugh and play as Betty struggled to feed him disgusting slurry was not what she had in mind.
“Will is a such a stupid diaper boy.” said Lauri. She recited the mantra without any enthusiasm. They were required to insult and demean Will periodically, but again, this had quickly devolved into a mere formality. “This is never going to be entertaining no matter what we do. All we can do is keep hoping that it ends eventually.”
“Will belongs in his stinky diapers. We have to think of some way to stay sane. Hoping Janet shows up to rescue us is not the answer.” replied Danielle.
The future stretched out in front of them like the images in two mirrors that faced each other. Amusement had already given way to annoyance, then to anger, then to boredom. And it had only been a week. They all knew that no law of nature could now prevent this all from literally lasting forever. What would it be like if Janet had simply forgotten that they existed? Only she could end this nightmare, and every day that she didn't make an appearance made it seem less likely that she ever would. How would they feel after ten years? A hundred? A billion? All they could do now was try not to think about it.
“Attention Will! You will poop in your diaper and beg for a change! Repeat: You will poop in your diaper and beg for a change!” barked Janet's voice from the speakers.
A groan went up from the small crowd of women as they heard the announcement. It was one of the ones that repeated at seemingly random intervals throughout the day, rather than on a fixed schedule. It didn't usually go off until at least the third class. Of course, that was the Spanking class, so it was always unwelcome. Hearing it now meant they were doomed to spend the entire day in a miasma of Will's diaper stench.
Will bent forward in his highchair and did as he was ordered, happily and plentifully. A disgusting cacophony of squelching farts filled the air. Will's diaper swelled visibly behind him. The women groaned and held their noses. This was part of Will's so-called punishment they could really have done without. Oh, they had laughed their heads off the first two or three times. But now that it had become routine, it was just the announcement that their daily ration of clean air had run out.
“Pleaaaaaase can you change my diaper? Please? I promise I'll be a good boy if you just wipe my big, stupid bum-bum for me!” recited Will, once he had adequately filled his “Obedience to Janet” Diaper. He folded his hands in supplication, even knowing that he would be refused.
“Goddamn! Smells like a horse stable and an open sewer had a baby, and then the baby crapped itself!” intoned Betty, trying futily to cover her nose and mouth with her blouse.
“Ewww. I'm not going near that disgusting thing.” remarked Danielle placidly.
“I guess you can just sit in it all day.” groaned Krystal. Of course, at this point, any of them would have been willing to change him just to avoid the smell, but that wasn't an option. Intermediate Wiping was the class that involved the lengthy and revolting process of changing Will into a fresh, clean, “Obedience to Janet” diaper, but that class was right at the end of the day. First would be Public Speaking, in which Will would stand in front of them in his mushy pampers and proudly explain all about what a loser he was, then Virginity, in which they would gather around and remind him that his dick would never again see the light of day, let alone a vagina, ever again. Then P.E., which consisted entirely of Will being defeated in wrestling matches, foot races, and every other conceivable sporting event, thanks to magically reduced physical abilities. Stupidity class was similar, but with quizzes rather than sporting events. None of it would put a dent in his sunny disposition, of course.
Slowly, the class became aware of the sound of labored footfalls behind them in the hallway. The crowd of women were already so used to their banal routine that they all immediately turned to look.
“Wait, is someone out there?” asked Krystal, to no one in particular.
“But...we're all in here.” muttered Marcy, confused. She knew that none of them could go out in the hall during class, because she herself would definitely be out there if it were an option.
The steps drew closer. They sounded hobbled and uneven, as though someone were carrying or perhaps dragging something very heavy. The gathered women stared at the door. Will was interrupted from his feelings of exultation at being in a dirty diaper. For once, no one was paying him any attention.
The door began to open. It swung so slowly that one might have thought someone was being deliberately dramatic. Once the opening was wide enough, a woman with black hair and dark skin squeezed herself into the room. She wore nothing but a bikini of some glittering gold material, and she held a baby bottle in her hands that was full of a glowing pink liquid. Judging by the look of strain in her muscles, an onlooker might guess that the bottle weighed at least fifty pounds. She didn't make a sound, but her face twisted in disgust as the stench in the room struck her.
“Christine?” asked Will, suddenly looking a lot more alert. The crowd turned back to him. Under the splatters of mush, his face was even redder than usual.
