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24/7! A Pink and Blue Diaperfur Adventure

Part Three of Four

kitncub

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Note: This story continues directly from [24/7!: Part One](%5C) and [24/7!: Part Two](%5C) . If you haven't read those, go there first. I am posting this in four installments during the week for those who want to read a bit at a time. The whole thing will be up by the weekend. So if you want to read it in one sitting, you can just wait until the weekend!

Here is the usual disclaimer:

General Note: This is an 18+ story. So please be 18+, o gentle reader, or else return to studying very, very hard. It involves furs in diapers, who are not cubs (chronologically), and furs in dresses, who are not girls (biologically). It is an adventure/romance story with these elements rather than a straight regression/sissification piece, so it has an involved plot and stuff. It is part of the Pink and Blue diaperfur series, and may be hard to follow if you have not read any of the other stories. Yadda yadda, et cetera et cetera. Don't sue me for not saying any of these things, and don't sue me for anything else, either, because it would make me sad.

Other stories in the series are listed above, or you can click on the view "By Folder" to your upper right.

Season Two Opening: Character Recap!

The Baby Blue Boys

Roger. The leader. This playful black Lab is founder of the team and daddy to the Baby Blue boys, and many of them look to him for guidance and emotional support. He has many good traits but one thing he's not is organized . . . usually. Today, he's been running a mysterious mission that's bringing him all over town-but for the moment, he is hosting Rian's 24/7 party in his apartment! Likes: His boys. Water balloons. Squirt guns. Comic books. _Dislikes:_Girls. Telling furs what to do.

Rian. The fun one. Roger's sidekick, Baby Blue's co-founder and second-in-command, best friend to Dex, occasional big brother to Twitchy, and boyfriend to the sissy princess fox Serafina, with whom he is deeply in love. As Roger's partner-in-crime the wolf has come into his own as a natural extrovert who is generous to a fault. The other boys are sure lucky they have Rian to lean on. He has just decided to go full-time in his diapers, and is throwing a party to celebrate! He was especially concerned that his best friend, Dex, come. Likes: Serafina. Diapers. Accessories. _Dislikes:_Schoolwork. Contests.

Dex. The serious one. A sensitive raccoon martial artist and the team's third-in-command and combat leader, Dex is in diapers not by choice but in the aftermath of a traumatic tournament injury, a secret known to only a few of the boys. Roger and Rian coaxed the once apathetic coon back out of his shell. Now he's dating Twitchy after coming to terms with his regressive tendencies during a mission to rescue the bunny. If only he could do something to pay back the furs who gave him a new lease on life. Despite his discomfort, he showed up at Rian's 24/7 party as a show of support for his friend. Likes: Sports. Being outdoors. Feeling useful._Dislikes:_Frills. Meat (he's a vegetarian). Bullies.

Twitchy. The smart one. The nervous, goggle-wearing bunny makes up BB's tech team at Hideout #4 together with his partner, the pocket-sized mouse and gadget engineer Squeak. The bunny is dating Dex after the raccoon stunned the team-and Twitchy-by coming through for him on a daring solo rescue mission. Twitch can fix anything broken . . . maybe. He tried to talk to Rian in advance of the party about Dex. Likes: LEGOs. Computers. Magic tricks. _Dislikes:_Lin Lin. Being talked down to. Having to explain things more than once.

Ex-Boy Scouts Ace , a tough trailblazing lynx, and Jax , a soulful tracking hound, double as members of Dex's special forces team and the leaders of Baby Blue's wilderness patrols, which keep the woods around the boys' hideouts safe and diaper-friendly. They are also a couple-and probably the last members of the team to realize it.

Kyle the Dalmatian is a low-ranking member of Baby Blue who has yet to find his place on the team. He is currently backing up Twitchy and Squeak in Hideout #4.

And "Action!" . . .

T minus zero. Rian's 24/7 Party.

The coat rack behind the door was filled with pants, and others were laid folded up on the floor nearby. "You know the rules tonight!" Rian, wearing his polo shirt and three layered diapers under a pair of plastic pants with ponies on them, said, with his arms crossed, to the latest entrant. He pointed at the pile of folded jeans and slacks in the corner. "Rule one: Any pants that aren't plastic get checked at the door!"

"Being a lousy employee isn't the same, Byron," the crinkling Dalmatian whined to the malamute standing over him. The spotted dog was crawling on all fours on the newspaper experimentally. "You're still our best swimmer. I'm not our best anything. I think I'm slowing Twitch down more than I'm helping. What's worse is I don't think I'm getting the hang of this tech support stuff. It's like housebreaking all over again. Whenever I made progress at home it was off to sitting around all night and all weekend in a restaurant kitchen where you always have to let other furs go first to use a one-toilet bathroom."

The spotted dog turned his head around the room and sniffed curiously as he crawled in a circle. "Where are my teammates anyway?" he asked. "Twitch and Squeak came straight from the hideout so they should have beat me here."

Dex was sitting on the couch and shifting his weight around a little uncomfortably. He wore the top of his karate outfit over red plastic pants that covered three layered cloth diapers fastened carefully with safety pins. Jax sat beside him on the sofa, eying the coon while sucking noisily on three of Ace's fingers.

The lynx was standing behind the couch, one paw surrendered to the nursing dog's muzzle and the other resting on his head, while he faced away from the couch, absorbed in heated debate with a civet.

"I can't believe we're still having this argument," the small, cat-like fur protested insistently. "Our government is not tyrannical! Just take my word for it, I know it has issues, but it just isn't. Is not. Have you heard of Stalinist Russia? Nazi Germany maybe? I bet you've seen that one in movies."

Ace snorted. "So I guess we should wait until we do elect a fascist government, and ask nicely for it to restore our Second Amendment rights, afterwards," he snapped.

The civet rolled his eyes and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "But making carrying weapons a fundamental right undermines democracy from the start. It sends everyone a message that violence is a legitimate response to social problems! The world has changed for the better since this country was founded, you know . . . And to prove it I will make you see reason if I have to stand right here arguing until one or both of us get a rash," he pouted, crossing his arms. "Then when you break down and start begging for a change first you'll have no choice but to admit that I'm right and all conflicts can be resolved through peaceful discussion."

The trailblazing lynx's eyes glinted and he grinned. "Diaper rash, ooh scary!" he said. "Had poison ivy recently?"

Roger waved both his paws in the air and stood in the center of the room near the bowls of chips and bottles of soda on the coffee table. As the designated caregiver, if anyone needed one, he was the only one wearing his pants, although he had removed his belt and let them hang loose so that his waistband poked out quite visibly.

"Okay, everyfur!" Roger said to the room of about twenty boys. "You know what you came here to celebrate. If you're here, you're for it. Are you for it?"

Rian, from his vantage point near the door, shifted his weight back and forth uncertainly, crinkling audibly as he did-but then, so was almost everyfur around him, excepting the small group of cloth-wearers that had been growing lately around Dex, Ace, and Jax. There was scattered applause. Roger beckoned to Rian, who made his way carefully through the crowd to his mentor's side.

Everyfur stood aside and smiled at him as he passed, some patting him on the back, some clapping him on the shoulder, and some tussling the fur on his head. By the time he made it to Roger's side, he was beaming and beginning to relax. He tugged on the Lab's waistband, and Rog bent over to listen to him.

"They all seem to think it's cool. It's not something they're going to laugh at afterwards is it? It's really important that if anyfur said it was weird or looked at me weirdishly you tell me now. Do they think it's cool?" the wolf whispered anxiously, tugging on the hem of his shirt, which wouldn't quite come down to his waistband.

"Of course they do," Roger reassured the wolf, patting his head with one paw. "Or they wouldn't have come to the party. You asked them all before they came here if they were really comfortable, didn't you? And we made clear that there was no obligation, right? That this was never envisioned as a whole group thing? It's your personal party, not a BB event."

Rian bit his lip and nodded as the Lab straightened up and continued speaking. "Rian has worked hard and talked to a lot of us to come up with rules that will make his big decision manageable and responsible for everyfur. And we'll go through those and put them up on an easel a little later. But for now, we're here to have fun, and show support for my sidekick's scary but exciting decision to try being Baby Blue's first 24/7 diaper player." Roger tussled Rian's headfur. "Congratulations on your transition," he said, "little buddy."

"Actually," Rian cleared his throat and released Roger's waist, suddenly confident, "I just copied most of those rules from someone else in this room." He wagged his tail and looked up at Roger quickly, but didn't give the older fur a chance to interrupt before he set his master plan for the night into motion.

"And you meant to say," the wolf said, beaming, "second 24/7 wearer. He just doesn't like to brag about it, or make any of us feel inferior, especially because," Rian tugged at his plastic waist band guiltily, "he's so reluctant to damage the environment for his own hobby, but I only have the confidence in myself to do what I'm doing . . ."

Rian gestured across the room, toward the sofa. Every fur listening slowly turned their heads to look at Dex, who was blushing furiously and staring at the floor, as the wolf concluded triumphantly, "Because of my best friend."

Kyle, however, was not listening. The Dalmatian had followed his nose, and his ears, into the kitchen, and when he could see into it he stood up and steadied himself against the wall with one paw, tugging up the front of his single Secure X-Plus diaper with the other.

"Squueeeeeaaaaaaak!" cried the dizzy mouse, who was holding onto the whirling propellers of an electric mixer and being whipped around. Twitchy, oblivious to his friend's plight, his goggles and the front of his overalls covered with flour, stared into a mixing bowl critically and tapped his foot. An open bag of flour, and containers of baking soda, baking powder, and sugar were open next to him, as were a series of spray cans.

His eyes flickered from the ingredients to the instructions on the back of several mix boxes, which were facing him, and the open pages of two cookbooks.

The Dalmatian caught the mouse in one paw and turned off the mixer. The rabbit looked up at him with a start, knocking two of the boxes over, and a carton of milk sideways, sending it spilling into the mixing bowl. "Kyle!" he cried fearfully. "Don't touch anything!" Wincing as he heard the edge in his own voice, the rabbit added, unconvincingly, "Umm, you might get hurt."

"Squeak," the dazed mouse said as he collapsed on to his back in the Dalmatian's palm and smiled up at the dog in relief.

"Squeak? Twitch?" The Dalmatian stared at the chief engineer of Hideout #4, dumbfounded. "What are you two doing?"

"We're making a cake!" Twitchy exclaimed, then bit his lip and stared down into the bowl, righting the container of milk and squinting at the mixture critically. "I think," he added, frowning.

The dog shook his head. "But what . . ." he asked in disbelief, gesturing at the boxes and books, "are all those for?"

Twitchy narrowed his eyes as he scanned the back-of-the-box instructions and cookbooks. "None of them say what kind of grease to grease a cake pan with," the rabbit observed suspiciously. "Or how greasy it should be."

The usually clumsy Dalmatian set Squeak down carefully on the counter and groaned. He leaned over Twitchy's shoulder and snatched one of the mixes and the mixing bowl, and marched purposefully toward the sink.

"What else is in the refrigerator?" he asked brusquely.

Twitchy blinked. "We already took out everything on the ingredients list," the bunny explained, gesturing at the cluttered counter. "If we had it. And if we didn't, well, we'll just have to skip that recipe, I guess."

The Dalmatian looked back at him sternly as he dumped out the soupy cake mixture into the sink and turned the water on. "For goodness' sake, Twitch," the dog scolded the bunny, shaking his head in exasperation. "This takes thought and a little flexibility. You can't just follow the instructions!"

The rabbit shrugged and opened the fridge. Kyle couldn't do any worse, he mused, than he had been. As the noise of the blender died down, the rabbit's ears flicked and he heard a second, louder round of applause from the crowded main room.

"What's going on out there, K?" the bunny asked idly as he scanned the sparse contents of Roger's refrigerator. "Did the party start already? Is Dex here yet?" He chewed on his lip. "He didn't seem too sulky about being dragged out, did he? Because I told him I'd make it up to him later."

In the main room, the raccoon, who was now sitting on the newspaper-covered floor, had wrapped both his arms about Jax's leg, and was nuzzling it contentedly. The dog, still nursing on Ace's paw, scratched behind his raccoon friend's ears, and occasionally Dex would purr a little. About ten boys were seated on the floor in a small ring around Dex, and some shook his muzzle or patted him on the head, while others regarded him admiringly and asked questions. "What do you eat?" asked one of the boys. "Can you eat whatever you want or is it a big hassle?"

"What do you do on overnight trips, Dex?" asked another. "Don't you camp out in the woods? And do you shave off any of your fur . . . you know?"

"What chlorophyll do you use?" asked a third. "You must know the best kind. Cuz I just took some for the first time and it makes me feel funny. Is that normal?"

"Have you ever been caught in a restroom?" asked a fourth, nervous-looking one.

"One at a time, one at a time," Roger admonished the group, crouching behind them and patting their shoulders. "Give Dex a little room."

The raccoon smiled shyly from behind Jax's leg. "It's okay," he said quietly, and addressed some of the questioners directly. "I wouldn't shave everything off," he said to one. "But I trim my coat down there a little bit with scissors. Something that helps me with that," he said, nodding seriously to the furs surrounding him, " is if you start taking baths once a week or so, and do it after those."

Rian was standing in the middle of another small group of boys and glowering down at Byron, who was seated on the floor with his arms crossed. "What do you mean you haven't used your diapers yet?" the wolf asked the malamute in disbelief, throwing his paws up in the air. "What's wrong with you?"

Rian fell on to his knees, resting them on the sleepy dog's lap, so that his muzzle lay an inch or so above the larger canid's and he looked down into his face. "Well you're going to use them tonight. No changes, for you, until tomorrow morning, either."

The black dog quailed fearfully. "You don't mean," he asked with trepidation, "both ways?"

Rian's eyes glinted and he held up a paw, and three fingers, in front of the canine's face, grinning. "I mean all three ways," he said.

Dex, still clinging to Jax's leg, continued answering questions. "I'm already a vegetarian," he was explaining, "so, no, I don't think that's such a big problem, really. You shouldn't be eating so much fast food, anyway."

"Dex?" asked another of the boys, who leaned over and grabbed onto the raccoon's toes with both paws.

Dex regarded him curiously, waiting for a question. "You're cool," the boy said simply, grinning at him.

The raccoon blushed and flicked his tail against the floor. His eyes wandered to his lupine friend across the room. When had he decided, he wondered, what would happen at this party? Was it a split second impulse? Or had the whole idea been to pull out of the group only the boys who would be curious about full-time diaper use? Either way, he had turned everything around for one night. Dex worried about most of the boys knowing he needed to wear diapers because he didn't want them to take pity on him, so when possible he hid the signs of his heavier-than-recreational diaper use. But choice or not wasn't even coming up. Every fur at the party who didn't know better believed what Rian had said. Why wouldn't they, when he had just announced he was going 24/7 himself? For the moment at least, they all looked up to Dex, some for precisely the things that the raccoon usually tried to hide. Dex teared up involuntarily.

"Sugar cookies?" Twitchy asked, coming up behind Roger and holding out a cookie tin to the group at the foot of the couch. "Squeak and I made them. Umm, there's milk too, but there aren't a lot of glasses . . ."

Roger stood up, wagging his tail. "Oh!" he exclaimed, dashing off. "I forgot! There are sippy cups and bottles, in the cabinet above the refrigerator. I'll get them!"

"Twitchy!" Dex exclaimed, his tail flicking against the floor, grinning widely as he looked up at his frazzled, flour-covered boyfriend. "Hon," he blushed. "Big bro. You are here! You're the one who told me to come. I'm so glad you did! Were you in on this surprise?"

The rabbit's ears drooped sadly as he surveyed the boys clustered around Dex and took in the raccoon's blissful expression, and heard the rustling as Dex involuntarily wriggled his bottom increasingly against the floor, the front of his cloth diapers becoming warmer and tighter.

Twitchy's pupils darted to the corner of his eyes and, without turning his head, he regarded Rian suspiciously. The wolf had pinned a spread-eagled, giggling malamute to the floor, and was tickling him mercilessly.

"What surprise?" the rabbit asked Dex, an edge creeping into his voice.

Ace, still absorbed in argument with the civet, reached over Jax's head with his free paw to take one of the proffered cookies, and Dex also reached up to take one before answering. The lynx bit into it-and coughed. The civet started to reach for one too, but Ace, his back to Twitchy, made a warning face at him.

Dex bit into his cookie, swallowed, and frowned. "What kind of cookies did you say these were?" he asked, sticking his tongue out and trying to pick mouse hairs off of it.

"Sugar cookies," Twitch said, observing the raccoon's reaction. "But you shouldn't have too many of these anyway! There's more stuff coming. We're even making a cake."

"Oh," Dex smiled up at his partner uneasily. "Sounds exciting."

Rian licked Byron's muzzle and increased the pace of his tickling. The malamute's right leg kicked into the air involuntarily. "Sttoooooooop!" the dog whined between convulsive giggles. "I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna . . . . piiddle . . . "

Rian frowned as a trickle ran down the dog's inner thigh and a puddle spread out under his legs. The wolf shook his head. "Somefur shouldn't be putting on his own diapers yet," he observed critically, slowing the pace of his ticking as the malamute whimpered. "It's a good thing we spread out all these newspapers."

Twitch hopped back into the kitchen, having deposited the cookie tin on the coffee table, to observe his pocket-sized mouse partner, sitting at the edge of the sink, swinging his small feet idly as Kyle opened the oven and peeked inside. Then he shut it and returned his attention to the mixer, turning it off and sticking one finger into the frosting. He stuck it in his muzzle, nodded approvingly, and wagged his tail.

"Squeak?" the mouse said to Twitchy, and shrugged, holding his palms paws out to both sides, questioningly.

"Umm, K," Twitchy asked uncertainly, unsnapping his goggles and raising them back to his forehead. "Any . . ." The bunny took a deep breath and swallowed his pride, "orders? You're running the Hideout #4 team tonight. Anything your teammates can do to help?"

The Dalmatian tapped a spatula against the mixing bowl and looked at both of them thoughtfully. "Yes. You two can go on oatmeal duty! It's a super-important job," he suggested, then turning around, muttered, half to himself, "And no fur will be eating that."

Roger stumbled through the room, stepping over and around boys who were sitting, crawling, or cuddling, distributing sippy cups and bottles of milk to those who wanted them. He stopped midstream as he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and answered it. "Oh, hi, Roddy," he said into the phone, as he made his way to the bedroom. "No, I can make a few. Let me get to somewhere quiet. Where are you? Are things settling down at home?"

Dex, who was on Cloud 9, let himself drift into a state of deepening regression and visibly mounting arousal as the questions subsided.

"I diden know you could regress to an oral stage Jax," he remarked as he hugged the black and brown mottled tracking hound's leg tighter and looked up at him.

Jax, still sucking on Ace's paw, looked down at Dex with his wide, soulful brown eyes and nodded, since he wasn't exactly in a position to talk.

Dex giggled and rubbed his nose against the dog's leg, flicking his tail against the floor as his vocabulary slowly deteriorated. "I wegress too s'times didja know dat?"

Jax nodded at him patiently.

"We shudd do a dubba date!" The raccoon proposed, starting to get excited. "Twith and me and you and Ace! I can be a kitten you know. Whadda ya fink?"

Jax bit down gently and tugged on Ace's fingers with his teeth. The lynx turned his attention away from his political standoff for a moment and looked down at his partner curiously, following Jax's gaze down to Dex. "Huh, what is it, puppy?" the lynx asked.

Jax whined and muttered something around his fingers and the lynx smiled at the two of them. "Of course Dex can come over to play. He's our friend," he said reassuringly, then returned his attention to relatively grown-up things.

Dex flicked his tail against the floor and his eyes twinkled. "And you can chase me around and we can play tug of war wiff chew toys an' twy to hepp feed each other and we can boff do our bestest for our big brothers." The coon bit his lip poutily. "Well," he added, whining a little, "you can. I bet you's weal good. Nah me. Twith keep thayin' I's not ready. We haffen done anyfin yet an ith all my fault. Mebbe you ca' show me fings ta do."

Jax's eyes glimmered and he regarded his coon friend curiously.

"Umm, lemon angel food bars? They're light and white and puffy and soft. Just like, well . . . _you_know," Twitchy offered as he reappeared next to the group, holding out a tin. "Kyle made these."

No one moved. Dex, seeing his boyfriend's ears fall, reached up for one apprehensively. Jax tugged on Ace's paw with his mouth again, and the lynx looked back over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and reached for one politely.

The lynx, standing on the other side of the couch, and the raccoon, sitting on the floor, looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes and bit into them simultaneously. They chewed, and swallowed.

"Hey," Dex remarked, surprised, flicking his tail against the floor. "These are good!"

Jax, seeing Ace swallow, tugged on his boyfriend's paw with his mouth again, trying to flash him a warning glance before he said anything tactless, but the lynx had already asked hopefully, "Is Kyle the one making the cake?"

Rian, who had been massaging the front of Byron's diaper in a circular motion with his right paw, withdrew it suddenly and licked the quivering malamute's nose as the dog's erection came to a peak. With his left paw, the wolf guided Byron's own forepaw to the front of his padding and pressed it against the plastic. "And you can leave it right there out front, but I don't want to see it moving," he said gently. "This is as far as you go for now."

The dog had wet heavily, so even with the leakage, the inside of his diaper clung to his front as a warm, sodden mass, and had come partially detached from the thin layer of plastic that now slid back and forth over the inside of the diaper and crinkled loudly like a poncho. Combined with the effect of Rian's pawing, the heat pressing against the canine's crotch began to feel unbearable. Byron whimpered and thumped one foot against the floor, but Rian shook his head. "I know someone who can't fasten his own diapers on tight can't be old enough to count very high," the wolf in the polo shirt whispered to him, holding up his fingers again, "but I think we both know that number 3 comes after number 2."

He grinned evilly and added, "Now wouldn't letting go in your pants in front of everyone like the little baby you are just be a tremendous-" he flicked his fingers against the still-tightening front of Byron's diaper, tickling the desperately whining dog's shaft through the crinkly, absorbent layer of plastic it strained against-"relief?"

The dog kicked both his legs in the air and moaned.

Roger returned from the bedroom in a moment and moved from group to group, checking on things, looking at his watch, and peering into the kitchen. He grinned with satisfaction at the reconfigured Hideout #4 team, as Twitchy, stirring a saucepan of oatmeal, every so often stole glances at Kyle to try to figure out what the suddenly self-assured Dalmatian was doing.

"Looks like you're at the most important station, Twitch! Rian and Dex should cut the cake when it's ready," the Labrador leader whispered to the group, wagging his tail. "But I can get the first serving of oatmeal, right?" He scratched his head. "Wait a minute, where's . . .?"

"Squeak squeak!" the mouse who had crawled up Dex's shoulder whispered into the raccoon's ear, gesturing frantically and flashing his fingers in front of the bemused coon's nose. The rodent's beady eyes darted back to the kitchen and he knitted his paws together and stared at his feet worriedly. "Squeak squeak squeak," he said.

"What? Be careful? With Twitchy? Oh! You're too late, Squeak!" the raccoon said, giggling. "I already ate the cookies. A bunch of them even. Someone had to, so he wouldn't feel too bad. Poor guy. Thanks, though."

The mouse shook his head and started gesturing more expansively. Dex blinked, still looking blissfully dazed. "Ah, I'm sorry," he said, shrugging. "I don't understand you. But I'm sure I'll get better at it. After all, we're going to be spending a lot more time together if everything goes through so I can switch to Twitch's school." The raccoon yawned, then smiled at his small visitor and patted him on the head. "Tell him I'm grateful he got me out tonight. And I hope I'll be able to show him how much soon. I'm working on it."

The mouse looked up at Dex with wide eyes, and said, "Squeak," sadly. Then he scampered off down the coon's arm, threading his way back across the increasingly cluttered floor to the kitchen.

He ran right by a distracted Twitchy. The bunny came out of the kitchen first, fumbling with a large mixing bowl full of oatmeal and a turkey baster, which he was pumping in the oatmeal uncertainly.

Rian waved to the bunny and pointed, sternly, down at the pinned malamute, who he was still holding, with his left paw planted firmly above the malamute's over the front of his diaper, right on the brink of release. The dog shivered as Rian took the turkey baster from Twitch in his right paw and slipped it under him, into his diaper, and under his tail, pressing it between his cheeks but slanting the point downward so it wouldn't release into his sphincter directly.

"Here," he said gently to the whimpering canine as he discharged a warm mass of oatmeal right between his cheeks and under the base of his tail. "Now I'll show you what it feels like to get you started," Rian whispered. "Does that help babykins any?" Rian handed the baster back to Twitchy, who snatched it back a little too quickly.

The dog gasped as his diaper warmed up and expanded-and then felt his stomach heave as it kept on expanding, getting warmer and squishier underneath him. At the very moment it did, Rian, who could tell the dog's bowels had just come loose, began squeezing the malamute's pinned paw open and shut over the bulge in the front of his diaper. "What a baby," the wolf teased. "Betcha can't help but make a sticky mess in the front of your diapers next . . ."

Twitchy shook his head and wiped the baster clean with a cub wipe before moving on, without saying anything, to Dex's group.

"Now listen," Rian whispered to the malamute as he stroked his head and ears, "as long as you're still learning to count, honey, you're always going to use your diapers in this one-two-three order, aintcha?" He licked the heaving canine's warm wet nose.

"I bet a baby like you is gonna like that new routine. Gonna learn to count past two finally? Yeah, buuut," Rian released the dog's paw so he could finish the job himself and patted his crotch, wrapped in warm, wet plastic, as he added, "too bad you're an uncommonly slow learner. I have a feeling you'll need a whole lot of practice. In fact, I don't think you should be doing number three at all outside your diapers for quite a while. It'd just make everything sooo confusing. What does mister puppy-pants think?"

"Uh . . . uh . . . huh," the black dog managed to get out, nodding, in between heavy breaths; he was pretty busy humping against the air and his own paws frantically.

The lights clicked off and everyone started-including Byron, who spasmed uncontrollably, moaning and discharging into the already sodden front of his diaper, as Rian stood up and released him. The other boys gathered around and bent over the dazed malamute, nosing at his ears and licking at his muzzle in congratulations. Roger and Kyle entered from the kitchen carrying a fluffy sponge cake, layered with vanilla, marshmallow, and coconut frostings, between them.

The cake was covered with sparking trick candles. The knots of boys broke apart and pushed Rian and Dex together, toward the center of the room. Dex grinned at his friend and blushed. The wolf rested his arm around the raccoon's shoulder. "Happy very belated, Dex," he whispered. "I knew you wouldn't want a big deal around your birthday. This was the best I could do. I hope it was okay." He added, hesitantly, "And now you can be a little less careful with everyone, maybe? With this announcement and now that I'm also . . ."

Dex seized his friend impulsively in a bone-crushing hug. "It's one of the weirdest but also . . . also the most perfect things ever," the coon said quietly, gulping. "Rian. Only you could think of this. I'm sorry that I thought . . . while you were gone, things happened, strange things, and I almost forgot what you were really like. How generous you are. But no one knows that better than me. I wish I could pay you back for this. For everything."

"Oh, Dex, don't be silly," Rian said casually, wagging his tail. "I'm just paying you back. You've already done the most importantest thing I could ever ask anyfur to do for me," he said, squeezing the raccoon tightly, and Dex's slow descent back to Earth began as Rian whispered, smiling, "You've been so supportive of me and Serry."

Next time: Into the morning! Serafina makes a fateful decision as Rian's first 24 hours in diapers winds down. The boys recover from their celebration (what is a hangover compared to a full diaper pail?), and Roger's mission comes to a head.

( Comments and the like welcome, whether here , via [PM](%5C) or, at [[email protected]](%5C) )