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Opening the locker, Billy Beagle stepped back a moment to wonder to himself what he should have expected. It wasn't the regulation white tank top with the red cross that had shocked him, or the whistle dangling gently from a hook on the left, and he sure wasn't knocked back by the complimentary bottle of sunscreen or pair of flip flops the resort provided him sitting on the shelf at the top.

No, everything he saw right here was exactly what he had seen on the otter keeping post from his high perch at the main stretch of umbrellas on the white sand beach. It was all the same right down to the red latex speedo emblazoned across the back with a white cross and block capital letters spelling out his new occupation: LIFEGUARD.

The beagle swallowed, habitually tugging and twisting at the front of his polo shirt. "Sir- this is the uniform?"

The raccoon running the beach operations of the resort nodded. "All our lifeguards wear them. It's the standard."

Billy Beague contemplated the skimpy swimsuit stretching over his chubby thighs, leaving no curve of his body to mystery. Wearing these, he may as well be walking around the resort in nothing at all.

"You don't have a trunk style, Sir?" Billy asked, taking the hanger that displayed the shiny red swimsuit in his paw and turning it over to see the front. Again the curious beagle had to ask himself why he would be surprised. He had taken too greedy a gaze at the fit otter that had had the unknowing pleasure of modeling for the beagle the uniform. How could Billy have not expected to be moments away from fitting into just the same? And how could he not notice the detail on the pouch: a minimalist outline of a classic master lock, a reference to the resort brand: Lockwood.

"It's just not..." Billy searched his teeming mind for the words to phrase his objection. "It isn't what you usually see on the beach, Sir."

"Maybe not around these parts," the racc stifled a laugh as he looked away. "You're still new but around here we all know the owner is a little..." the raccoon coyly mimed a limp wrist. "European."

"Oh," Billy sighed as he put the skimpy latex piece back in the locker. He had too many other questions not to already feel as if he was imposing on the busy raccoon's time. A lot of them were variants of "why latex?" that he expected to draw an answer suspiciously similar to first. Billy sighed, realizing he might just need a moment to really think this over alone. "Thank you Sir, I'll... I'll be ready in a second."

"Oh, take your time," the raccoon assured over his shoulder as he had already turned away to attend to other matters.

"The uniform's a bit of a curveball for everyone when they start, don't feel like you need to come out until you're-" the raccoon paused at the door to the changing room for a moment as he searched for the right word.

"Confident," the racc's velvet voice intoned, meeting the beagle's eyes with a toothy grin for one last show of support before closing the changing room door behind him.

As Billy found himself alone, the existing staff having long donned their uniforms and taken their usual posts, he wondered for a moment if he should simply apologize and walk out now. It wouldn't be the first time a guy ever saw something wasn't for him and just admitted it. Without doubt they'd rather he do it on day one, hour one than after two and half pay cycles of being as miserable as he was unreliable.

He took the skimpy outfit in his paws again, unclipping it from the hanger and holding it up to the fluorescent light to study the opacity of the material, wondering if he could really be seen having squeezed his undeniably soft body into this crimson sausage casing.

As he held the latex, he felt of course the rubbery smoothness, but he also felt something else. Something he couldn't find any word to describe.

It wasn't electric, it wasn't quite as... shocking as that. Or magnetic really. It didn't have a vibe or an aura or an energy. The best way the beagle could describe it was a certainty. Actually holding the thin latex between his fingers, he could feel a sense of certainty wash over him that- of course he could wear it! Why couldn't he? It's got holes his legs go in. Looks like the right fit. Can't march out there nude and it's the uniform for the job he'd felt up to now would not only give him financial support but at least half a sense of purpose keeping people safe.

If the beagle felt anything, he felt a compulsion to immediately slip the skimpy on and get to work that was abated only by his need to unclothe and shower.

Dropping the latex casing onto the bench, the certainty seemed to disappear immediately. Confused as he undressed and gently folded his street clothes to put in the locker, by the time Billy found himself lathering up in the shower he had swung totally the other direction.

That otter- the beagle's mind gravitated to him again. So cut. So handsome. When you've spent enough time in the gym to build a body like no one complains when you cut the uniform top off at the midriff. And that- could you even call it a bulge? Would that have even sufficed. It's easy to be confident when you look like...

The beagle sighed and shut off the water having decided to break the news to the raccoon that this wouldn't be suited for him. The cherry on top he was hoping no one walked into the changing room with his cock as stiff as a steel rivet and changed back into his polo shirt and shorts.

That otter... he looked so confident. The embodiment of it. Why couldn't Billy just be like that?

Billy did a half-hearted job of drying himself on the walk back to his locker, looking around to make sure no one else had come in before dropping the towel with a sigh. He saw where he had left the latex swimsuit carelessly laid on the bench and if he wasn't going to stick around he wouldn't leave a mess behind him.

The moment his paws touched the latex once more the certainty returned. If not that he could do the job- he still wasn't sure there. One doubt creeps in, a dozen others show up in support. Especially in the steam of a shower. But now, holding the suit again, feeling the rubber on his sensitive pads, the beagle had to at least know how they would have looked on him, to have an exact measure of his fears and insecurities.

Orienting the pair properly, he stepped one leg in and felt a thrill of excitement that he was actually doing it.

He stepped the other leg and felt a surge of pride in himself that he had overcome his inhibitions.

And as he stretched the crimson rubber up his thick thighs and let them snap snug around his generous cheeks and hips, the modest bulge of his button-cock centered right within the negative space of the lock- he knew that he had never looked so studly. Finding a mirror, he posed to confirm his suspicions.

"Hot damn, look at me," Billy crowed to himself, turning around to read the text emblazoned across his ass. "I'm a LIFEGUARD. I really am! Hah! And I was worried! It was just that easy though, wasn't it? It's just a swimsuit. Just a uniform. Just a job. LIFEGUARD! Hah! That's me! It really is!"

Billy admired the beagle in the mirror, the vision unreal to him, as if it wasn't himself the mirror reflected at all. The stud grinning and posing behind windex smears, rubbing his paws over his rump as he let his tail wag, didn't look like Billy could ever remember feeling. But, that chubby hunk in the mirror lifting his belly to show his bulge with a wink certainly looked how Billy felt standing there in the changing room.

"Pennsy said come out when I feel confident, and I feel..."

Billy flung his locker door wide to toss on the long white tank top, loop the whistle around his neck, and squirt a little sunscreen into his paws to cover the parts of his face that fur did not. "Confident, yes. That's exactly what I feel. And I gotta! I'm a lifeguard now. People have their safety in my hands. I gotta be confident. So I am confident. Look at me," Billy mooned, the phrases starting to repeat in his head like a record skipping its needle back. "A lifeguard's gotta be confident," Billy thought as he posed in the mirror, admiring himself, giving his round belly a satisfied smack as he grinned without showing his teeth, practicing his best modest acceptance of everybody's attention that was sure to follow such a hot package as himself.

Thinking back to the couture look the otter had modeled, his six-pack abs exposed under torn cotton, the beagle bit into and ripped off his tanktop at the midriff, letting his chubby belly breathe.

"A lifeguard's gotta be sexy," he added to his mantra, his mind fixating between the otter and nothing at all as his eyes softly focused into nothing before suddenly snapping back into crystal clear relief as he saw himself posing in the mirror, whistle swaying side to side as he coyly rocked his hips.

"I gotta be confident, I gotta be sexy. I'm a lifeguard now. I'm in the uniform. Gotta be sexy and confident now that I'm a lifeguard. Lifeguards so sexy and confident. Confident as a lifeguard. Sexy as a lifeguard. Life as a lifeguard."

The steam built inside the beagle's head, the possibility of his putting on his street clothes again having disappeared over the horizon. He talked to himself, not noticing or caring if others walked through to see, not cognizant of much of anything aside from the feel of the latex hugging his curves, squeezing tight against his cock. He lifted his belly to admire it again, one big bulge below another modest mound, not an inch left to mysetery. "Lifeguard confident. Lifeguard sexy," the beagle repeated his mantra. "Lifeguard life."

The phrases turned to bare words, the bare words turned to babbling, and then as suddenly as a kernel becomes popcorn the beagle snapped bolt upright as a thousand yard stare slowly melted into a stupefied look of half-lidded contentment.

Pulling his whistle around his back to rest on his breast, Billy made a beeline to the exit and exchanged a suspiciously mirrored "Sup bruh" and peace sign gesture with the otter passing by to end his shift.