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You'd heard about this tribe of surfing otters who lived nearby, but you weren't prepared for actually meeting one face-to-face. Sure, you'd seen the island just off the coast, every time you went down to the beach to catch a wave. Until your friend told you about the otters, you wouldn't have thought anyone lived there. Now, however, you see a slim shape on a board, paddling right next to you in the tide, and you realize this must be one of them.

The anthro otter is very clearly artificial, his color not naturally occurring in nature. At first glance, you might assume he's wearing a full-body white wet wetsuit, but then you notice his head and paws are the same color and material. You've heard of constructs before, but most of those you've seen are made of faux fur and plush, not white plastic.

You grip your board tightly, as you suddenly know why your friend had a knowing smirk when telling you about these otters. Your friend has known you for so long, and loves to tease you about your fixation on crinkly white padding. Of course he'd point you towards a tribe of surfer otters who also happen to be full-sized living diaper critters.

You paddle closer to him, and notice a lot more detail on his white 'skin'. Not all the plastic is white, there are light blue ocean-themed icons scattered all over like tribal tattoos; suns, dolphins, waves, fish, whales, and of course otters. His overall form is very otter-shaped, but on the thin side. He has a face sculpted from plastic that still folds more like fabric, but still has enough expressiveness in the printed-on eyes and wide nose, even if his mouth seems to be currently covered with a blue strip of tape. Twin blue lines form a stripe from his neck, down his chest, under his legs and out to the underside of his tail.

The diaper-otter grins at you, and you pick your jaw up from off the board, embarrassed that you've been staring for several minutes. He's wearing a slightly puffy-looking swimsuit of a style that wraps around the waist with velcro, which you recognize as a neoprene swim diaper. You'd be wearing one of those instead of this short-sleeved surfsuit, but you don't want to attract public attention for what are otherwise very private kinks. The otter, however... being already a diaper is enough of an attention-getter, you wonder what need he has for modesty.

You realize the otter has been gesturing at you, a repeated series of hand motions simple enough to understand. Surf with me?

So you surf.

Many glorious waves and hours later, as the sun fades the clouds into orange and purple streaks, you drift back to shore and stretch out on the sand. The otter sits next to you, passing his paw across his mouth, removing the tape.

"You're pretty good, dude," he says, leaning back on his arms in the damp sand. "But I could show you a few things...you could be the best. "

You look up at him, silhouetted against a perfect coastal sunset. "Are you offering to teach me? I've only just met you, and I've never seen anything like you."

He offers a paw, and you shake it, hearing the plastic scrunch noisily. The pawpads are more colored markings, and the paw has a feeling of lacking solidity, as if he was hollow inside. "Name's Toru, dude," he says. "And I'm not offering to teach, so much. I, uh. I was actually looking for a Rider."

You hold your breath as he explains. The cute blue swim diaper he's wearing is a symbol of immaturity in his tribe. Toru has just reached the age, in which he's grown enough to seek out a 'Rider', which he needs to be considered a mature member of the tribe (three years for you, the equivilant of about 18 for him). To be a Rider requires an organic volunteer to ride along inside the otter, providing him with a more solid structure. He's asking if you want to climb inside his thick, crinkly padding and be his.

You look into his eyes, and you wonder if there exists any world in which you could say no.

Toru holds his side open, letting you climb inside him as a suit. You compress layers of fluff and padding, sliding your arms and legs into his own. Your tail goes down inside his thick rudder, and lastly your head pops up into the inside of his own. You're naked, by the otter's insistence, and it's an entirely new feeling to be completely surrounded by padding. Somehow, through whatever magic animates this creature, your body is a perfect fit, filling out the otter's interior and fitting snugly in all the right places. You feel his arms moving yours to seal the suit back up, and once that's done, you can suddenly see out of the head as if the eyes outside were your own.

There's a voice in your head, sounding just like Toru's, and with some focus you can speak back to him. "Hey dude, doin' okay in there?"

"Yeah, this is just... amazing," you reply, still overwhelmed with the sensations of the otter's body moving your own, as he picks up his board and heads back to the ocean.

"Good good! Gotta head back to my home for the ceremony, my tribe's waiting. I get to become an adult finally!" Toru dives back onto his board, which you can barely feel through the layers of soft fluff.

You don't answer until much later, distracted by the ease and grace at which he slides through the water. As the otter steps onto the island, you say, "What ceremony? What do I have to do?"

He chuckles, smoothing his paws over his plastic, brushing off stray droplets. "Oh dude, that's easy! You just have to...use me."

This is unexpected, but somehow fitting. "Um, use you? Like..." You're hesitant to finish the sentence, both afraid and aroused that he means what you think he means.

"Yup, just like a diaper," he confirms. "I mean, come'on, dude, you do know what I am, yeah? I can feel some of your thoughts, I know you like this sort of thing."

You protest, "But I don't want to... um. You're different! I don't want to get you messy..." You realize how silly that sounds just as you say it.

Toru reaches the top of a small hill, and his village stretches out below, lit by soft green glowspheres, and one large ball in the middle that blazes internally with wild blue fire.

"Dude, let me tell you a secret. Okay, so you organic types have those floppy bits that get hard when you're enjoying yourself? Well, being what I am, I don't have one o' those--not that I mind yours, it feels nice--but you know what I am and what I'm made for. So it's only natural that I'd actually enjoy, well, the stuff that comes out of your floppy bits. Feels good to be clean on the outside and dirty within! And don't worry, dude, my insides clean themselves pretty often."

You feel a surge of arousal at hearing this confirmed, and then there's no more objections as the otter walks you down into the village to meet his tribe. Many more otters throng around you, most wearing nothing at all. Their bodies are smooth plastic, showing nothing in the crotch area, though some bodies are larger or smaller, which you realize reflects the different sizes of their own Riders. A few otters run around in the swim diapers of various colors, chasing each other around the big glowing sphere.

The ceremony itself is simple enough, though it surprises you when Toru opens his mouth and somehow your own mouth is opened as well, letting some liquid down into your throat. You realize just how thirsty you've been, so you drink most of the tall cup. Almost immediately you feel a full bladder, pressure pent up from a long afternoon's surfing. You need to pee. After a check with Toru, who confirms that this is the point of the ceremony, you let loose a long flood of urine into your new padding suit. It soaks in quite readily, spreading both upwards along the otter's chest and down towards his feet. As the double-line stripe on Toru's front blurs and fades away, you realize all the 'adults' of this tribe are missing this indicator. One of the elders steps forward and wraps a colorful tape around Toru's arm, emblazoned with bright and colorful animals, while others strip his neoprene diaper covering off, marking him as member of the tribe.

You stay inside of Toru for several days, starting to acclimate to being embedded within so much padding. He feeds you drink and food, and you use him periodically, the messes eventually vanishing on their own to leave behind perfectly clean padding. Slowly, you find that you can actually feel some sensation as he moves about, as if his outer plastic is your own skin feeling the sun, wind, and waves as he surfs. And every time you wet, you get this thrill as you move about with wet padding, enjoying it far more than you used to.

The other thing you discover is that the otter, being still young but the equivilant age of around 20, is much more randy than you'd expected. When he's not surfing, he's often stretched out in his bed rubbing frantically at the crotch of his padding, which definitely gets a physical response from your own body. Toru explains that the sharing of sensations goes both ways--while you can feel his ingrained arousal from being used as a diaper, he gets as much feedback from stimulating you directly. The combination of the two leaves you both in a constant state of near-orgasm, only intensified by physical activities like surfing.

You are more together than either had been separately. You start to forget that you were ever separate from the diaper otter, ever more than just his organic stuffing, the core that produces wastes for the diaper to enjoy. When the otter moves, you move. When he speaks, you speak; when he eats, you eat. When he orgasms from stroking himself, you orgasm, feelings ricocheting back and forth. You feel what he feels. It's symbiosis, you both need each other. You never want to leave.

Is there any difference anymore? You are Toru, the tribal diaper otter, and you're the best surfer around.