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Joseph Pistoli, the older golden Italian eagle and Lugo Perry-Davis, the muscular gray wolf, extricated themselves from their fecal mess on the plastic-covered futon. Lugo's clothing was a complete disaster: Joe had used his beak to rip open his shirt and the front of his pants, exposing all the front erogenous zones.

This had come after Lugo, exhausted from a long day at work, stopped into Pistoli's Pharmacy for an incontinence/ABDL supply run and a bathroom break. At the urinal, he forgot he wasn't wearing diapers and crapped his tighty-whities.

Joe, curious about the ABDL paradigm after constantly stocking the products and receiving a boost in business, summarily took this "dirty gay bitch" to the back room and, after a bottle of laxatives, had Lugo literally fuck the shit out of him.

Now it was time for a shower, especially for Lugo. Were it not for the acrid stink of the not-mayonnaise, not-wallpaper paste white eagle shit splattered on his chest, stomach, exposed groin, and trousered thighs, someone could have thought he'd just come from a bukkake session with a colossal gay dragon.

And he still had a load of wolf dirt sagging down the back of his pants, swinging around like a second ballsack.

"This is my home-away-from home," Joe said as he led the dripping wolf up a back staircase, "Not to cheat on the missus ... very rare ... but to cut down on commute on the long days."

"You really put your all into this," said Lugo, keeping an arm against his sensitive nose as Joe gestured through the front door.

The eagle chuckled. "I put my all into everything I do, you diapered poultry-porker," he said as the wolf walked past. Joe's wing shot out and grabbed Lugo's firm, plump, messy rump, squeezing hard.

Lugo groaned, stopping in the doorway as his sheath thickened again, and the shorter, rounder male came up from behind him wasted no time. "Oh fuck, again?" he said.

"You bet your shitty, caked-on ass," said Joe, pushing down Lugo's sheath and stroking up his cock until it was full, fat, and drooling pre again. His other feathered hand grabbed that aforementioned ass and ripped the seat of the pants out, then hooked its finger and thumb around the crapped-up crack and massaged the lumpy underwear. "Who's my dirty gay bitch?" Joe said.

"I'm your dirty gay bitch," growled the wolf, feeling that feathered thumb push through all his wolf shit until it got to his wolf shitter. Lugo moaned as Joe tore a hole in the back of his tighty-whities, then pushed a feathery thumb through all the thick wolf dirt and into his tight hole.

Joe's other hand was fast on his cock, stroking a fat knot as big as two golf balls, his shaft like the handle of a baseball bat. Everything was open to Joe Pistoli, and that bird of prey made a meal of him. Lugo felt Joe's beak on his shoulder, the flesh-piercing tip against the top of his pectoral, and he felt a double-pleasure sensation as his hole unclenched around Joe's thumb, squeezing out another lump, and his cock fire off, spraying and spurting up into naked air, then onto the entryway floor of Joe's apartment.

"Goddamn," the wolf growled as Joe pulled his thumb out and ripped his briefs further, letting Lugo's ruined underwear drop crap all over the floor. Joe slid the welcome mat under it, wrapped it up, then threw it into the first trash can.

"Welcome home," Joe said, then walked straight down the hall, turned on the bathroom light, and turned on the shower.

"We're not gonna make this a habit, are we?" Lugo asked as he tore the remnants of his shirt, pants, and underwear off of him, wadding them all up and tossing them into the same trash can.

"Hey," the Italian eagle said from the steaming room, voice echoing, "you be my dirty gay bitch, I give you big discounts."

"But our spouses," said the wolf, entering the bathroom to see a husky golden eagle wetting himself down in the steamy shower. "There's a sanctity we have to preserve."

"And a standard of living we have to maintain," said the eagle, wrapping his wing around the muscular, taller wolf's waist as he joined him.

"Seems we're sacrificing the exact thing we're trying to preserve," said the wolf as the eagle dumped fur shampoo into his winged hands, then started scrubbing the wolf's chest and stomach.

"I hear ya," said the eagle, then moved lower to clean the wolf's cock and balls. He didn't linger long, however, and moved to Lugo's ass, which was piled in shit and muscle. "But you don't seem to be sacrificing anything."

Lugo grunted, feeling not sexual pleasure but absolute relief as the eagle tended to everything, deep-cleaning him like a luxury automobile. "What do you mean?"

"I've had my fill of fillies," the eagle said, shaking his feathers free of muck and making loud splatters in the tub's basin. The stench of filth was amplified by the humid hot water, but the eagle made quick motions with his taloned feet to move it to the drain and squish it down. "And you didn't blink twice in indulging a pretty smile, if I am going to flatter myself."

"I know I have marriage problems."

"Yeah, but it's more complex than that," said Joe, squeezing more shampoo into his hands and working on Lugo's column-sized thighs and calves. "Because you're busting your butt and you're busting your nut in the first place for this uh, guy or girl you're married to. You like cars?"

"I love cars," Lugo said as Joe washed his footpaws. The wolf turned his snout to the showerhead, closing his eyes as hot water poured against his muzzle and face.

"You got a project car," said Joe, "and it breaks down on you a lot. Believe me, you're one of my best customers, haha! But when it runs, it purrs. Maybe literally?"

"Yes, he's a cat."

"Ah, thought so. You buy a lot of enemas and yarn balls. Guys love shitting and cats love yarn balls."

"I mean, girls poop too."

"Yeah, but you never hear a girl bragging about a dump she took," Joe said, then stood up behind Lugo and started pulling shampoo through the wolf's tail. "Hell, they hardly brag about the babies they bear. No, it's always bitching. Your child, Joseph Pistoli, was an egg the size of a soccer ball. Nearly split me in two, Joseph Pistoli. You want your kids scrambled or in a quiche next time, Joseph Pistoli?"

Lugo laughed. "Yeah, sure. I have a cat I love, but the cat's a complete bitch at times."

The eagle came around him, put his hands on his cheeks, scrubbing them clean, and kissed Lugo on the lips. "Then I'm not going to trouble you, Lugo Perry-Davis. Us guys need a little release, you come see me. But stay true to yourself and stay true to your husband."

The wolf blushed, feeling much warmer from the eagle than he did the shower. "I try to do both, Mister Pistoli."

The eagle shook the wolf's head. "No, no," he said, "They're the same thing."

"What do you mean?"

In the shower steam, in the humidity and heat, the golden eagle smiled and looked up at the wolf. "What I mean is that you married someone that reflects your values. You married someone just as great as you. If that's not the case anymore, then there is no point in the life you have chosen. Life has purpose, and that is pleasure and meaning. No pleasure, no meaning; you're killing yourself."

Lugo felt a stinging heat come to his eyes. "I understand, sir."

The eagle grinned. "Who's my dirty gay bitch?"

Lugo smirked. "Not me. Not right now."

The eagle balled his fist and bumped Lugo's chest. "There you fuckin' go. Now go to your husband."

Lugo gently bit the inside of his cheek. "My uh, clothes are ruined."

The eagle handed the wolf some feather wash and turned his back on him. "Yeah, that's true," he said as Lugo got to work on Joe's back. "I'll get you a diaper and a romper. Something real cute; just don't get pulled over."

Lugo wagged his tail. "That sounds excellent."

"Yeah I know I am," said Joe.

~~~

Lugo got out of the shower and reached for a towel, whereupon the eagle stole it from him, then wrapped it up and whipped the wolf's bare, muscular bottom. "Uh-uh. You're my baby till you're out of this apartment. Now get on the changing table."

The wolf blushed, feeling his sheath plump up at the older male's firm hospitality. "Oh, sure, sure. Where's that?"

Joe went to an open box of ABDL supplies, one of his "Pistoli's Prep-Kit for the Bladder and Bowel Loquacious--ABDL Variety, for the Kid in All Us," and grabbed a pacifier. He stuck it in Lugo's mouth then gestured down the hall.

"Bedroom," he said, "like we just figured out, I'm pretty new to this fetish and decadence thing."

Lugo murred, then followed the naked, older, husky-bodied eagle to the bedroom, where there sat a simple single twin-size bed and next to it, a tarp that was still in its packaging. Joe opened this and spread it over the bed, then opened up an AB-sized baby blanket and tossed that over the top. He gestured for Lugo to lay down, and Lugo did.

Suckling on his pacifier, the wolf lay on his back, murring as his sheath grew and his red tapered tip poked out.

"Woo," said Joe, cupping his own chest with one wing while the other squeezed his own cloaca, "Where's my sexy gay baby?"

Lugo murred, tail wagging under him.

Joe chuckled. "God, this is gonna ruin my marriage, fuck me."

The eagle went back to the kitchen, grabbed his ABDL box, and brought it in. He pulled out a printed American Apogee: Cubz and an XXL romper, then paused as he fished further through the box. "Woo, fuck me," he said, tailfeathers rustling. "This is the medical one."

The eagle pulled out a hot water bottle, gallon-sized, that had a conspicuous long tube extending out the bottom with a nozzle at the end. Lugo gasped through his nose, suckling on his pacifier, and his cock poured out of his sheath, hovering over his stomach and drooling out the tip.

Joe grinned. "Let's send you home in style," he said, to which Lugo murred. Joe read the instructions on the enema real quick, then jogged to the restroom. The bath tap turned on, then after thirty seconds turned off again. Joe returned with a full jiggling enema bag.

Lugo moaned, and Joe chuckled. There were no objections as the eagle grabbed his coat rack from the hall and ran it to the bedroom, then hung the enema bag on it, spit on the tip, then brought the hose with him as he mounted the bed.

Straddling the wolf's waist, the older, pudgy eagle planted a kiss on Lugo's pacifier, then reached behind him, under his tailfeathers, and briefly groped the wolf's large balls as the tip travelled south. Kissing Lugo's pacifier again, Joe slipped the tip into the wolf and felt him jolt right against the lips of his cloaca. He then spit on his feathery hand,and massaged Lugo's cock into slickness.

Taking a long, deep breath, Joe tried to relax. Lugo watched, in between all the feathers, the male eagle's warm, tight cloaca lips twitch as he brought the wolf's cock against it, then used the tip to spread his lips apart.

"Oh geez," Joe said as Lugo penetrated him, and the wolf felt his cock get wetter as pre started leaking from the eagle. "Fuck, just like that, my big gay baby. Fuck..."

Settling down on Lugo's cock, his silky walls twitched as he winced around its fat girth. When he got halfway down, the member throbbing between them hot and red, the eagle reached back and opened the enema valve.

"Wow, heh ... there it is, shit!" Lugo groaned as he felt that trickle of warm water in his rectum. At first, it was innocent, just a nice long squirt like the rare times Kioga would top him. Then it kept going, pooling in his rectum, like when Kioga managed to control his bladder enough pee afterwards, not during foreplay and spraying all over the bed like an angry pet cat. And then it kept going, filling up the first bend of his large intestine and traveling up, tracing out the pathway of his bowels.

Lugo rocked up into Joe's cloaca, wincing as his intestines filled out. Joe was still tight and he kept up a rhythm with Lugo, moving his hips back and forth, taking all nine thick inches and sliding his slick, stretchy cloaca all over them.

And the water kept coming. Lugo first relaxed his stomach, then let it swell outward, into a big belly bulge as water filled up his bowels, flooding all the way up to his ribcage, then going across the top bend.

Lugo slowed down, feeling some cramps, so Joe sped up, bouncing his hips against Lugo's groin, cloaca flexing around his cock. Feeling so full from the water constantly flowing, a warmth overtook Lugo and he made passionate love to Joe, bucking up into the bird's slick slit and getting rewarded with more and more precum.

"Oh geez, baby," gasped Joe, "I'm not gonna last long." He was right, too: that cloaca was clamping down on Lugo like a hungry paw, stroking him off.

Lugo nodded, then reached up and pulled Joe's head down. He slipped his pacifier to the side and kissed the bird right on the beak, then released right into him. Joe felt Lugo's warmth spurt into him and keep on spurting, so he clamped down himself and came, cloaca flooding around Lugo's cock and then out, painting Lugo's groin in hot wet bird spunk.

They released the kiss, and Lugo saw his belly was bulging like a classic trucker or a "daddy."

"I thought I worked all this off," Lugo groaned, rubbing a paw over it.

"You're gonna be really clean on the inside, my dirty gay bitch," Joe said with a chuckle. The eagle grunted, then pushed himself off Lugo's cock, dumping bird and wolf spunk all over Lugo's lap. "Aaaaah, holy fuck that was good."

Lugo swore he heard himself sloshing as he carefully sat upright. Was this what being pregnant was like? Nah, that was silly. "Fuck, should I take care of it now?" he asked as he stroked his paunch.

Joe smirked, then got the buttplug. "Eh, see how long you can go. Let it flow around, make sure you're nice and sparkly clean. So clean, you could fill your ass up with frozen yogurt and dispense it right into the cone."

Lugo grimaced. "Let's not think about that too hard. Vanilla's weird and chocolate, real gross. Do you think gay polar bears take frozen cum dumps?"

Joe chuckled. "What the fuck are you talking about, you deviant?" The eagle smirked, his crotch feathers soaked and dripping cum. God, he looked like a delicious roast, all stuffed and ready to eat. "But on that note, if you could dispense a chocolate-vanilla twist, it'd be a great party trick."

Lugo didn't know he could cringe and laugh at the same time, but he did. Right until his tailhole flexed and squirted a jet of murky water right onto the baby blanket. "Gimme the plug."

Joe tossed it over, and Lugo sucked in breath. The plug was kinda big, the size of a computer mouse, and the wolf put plenty of lube on it. Taking a deep breath, he put it against his pucker, holding almost a gallon of water and remnant feces, then slipped it in as quick as he could, losing maybe another cup.

Joe nodded, then slapped a diaper on the wolf up and gave him that XXL romper.

Lugo looked down at the big white brief swaddling his nethers. "You do that pretty good for an ABDL newbie."

"I, uh," said the eagle, blushing at the top of his beak, "y'know. Long work days, helps to, uh, keep going. Ya look great," he said to Lugo. "Big gay baby, just adorable."

Lugo did, in fact, look adorable, his muscular body--and big belly--sheathed in a bright red romper whose legs went only to mid-thigh, little bitty sleeves not even reaching to his thick biceps.

"I guess I'll get going," said Lugo, and gave Joe another kiss on the beak before leaving, waddling around a buttplug that felt like the size of a softball. He stopped at the door and turned around. "Hey," Lugo said, "I don't want to fuck up either of our marriages."

The eagle smiled, though the rest of him was a bit homely, the old bird with his knees apart and hips out, using a wet wipe to clean his crotch. "Hey. You worry about yours, okay? Mine ... well I ain't told my wife about this. And I'm gonna. We'll, uh, see what happens, okay? In a divorce, well, I might have to sell this place and join my brother at Big Caligula's Pizza."

"If you lose Pistoli's Pharmacy," said Lugo, then his heart sank. "Fuck, I can't even face that as a possibility. It's your livelihood. Your wife's not going to divorce you over this, is she?"

The eagle went to the kitchen sink and hoisted himself over it. He grunted, then suddenly all of Lugo's cum shot out of his cloaca like a jet of bird shit, splattering all over the basin and splashing on the underside of his tail feathers. "She's a good filly, literally a horse, but she spooks easily, just like a bad horse stereotype. It should just mean couples therapy with the Padre after Mass. Who the fuck knows? Now get outta here before you shit yourself in my doorway and I gotta change you and fuck your cock again."

Lugo blushed and agreed as he fucked off.

~~~

The SUV smelled like pizza and nothing but pizza when Lugo got into it. It was also ice cold. His phone was in the center console, and it had more notifications than a person's social media account after saying the wrong thing in the wrong forum.

Nazi, Racist, Facist, rawr rawr rawr: more white knights spilleth over the horizon than a Klan rally running from a swarm of hornets.

Kioga had texted him and called him once very fifteen minutes for the last four hours Lugo was having his affair. They started out as innocent and meek messages, fair and delicate quite like the average ideal "waifu."

"Hey sweetie, you must be working pretty late. Keep it up, but y'know ... I miss you <3"

"Hey Lugie, either you're on a project or Evan's chewing your ass out, but could you text me, something?"

Then, as any social media debacle, these sugarcoated messages lost their candy coating and revealed an arsenic core.

"God fucking damn it, Lugo. We're married. Lovers. And you can't pick up your goddamn phone for two seconds to send me a quick message. Work's important, but so is your husband!"

"Lugo. I just called the building, which is closed, and it got routed to some stuck-up BITCH called 'Saha-hashish' or some Indian crap. Lizard-tits said you were out PARTYING WITH WESLEY AND THE CREW WITHOUT ME."

And then, unanswered, the messages went to wounded, maudlin pleas.

"Lugo, I know my body's fucking broken and it makes me into a basement screecher--"

The wolf shook his head.

"--but I really feel out of the loop. I have been sick. I know I shouldn't weigh you down. I heard Wesley talking in the breakroom that I was a shitty loaded diaper hanging off the back of your ass. The regular breakroom, too, the office where they make commercials for cars, exercise equipment. Making diaper jokes with normal people, and they were laughing. I'm in this constant spiral of trying my best to hold all my shattered pieces together, I'm always weirding people out with a nervous mood, and then something goes wrong, I fall apart, and then people hate me more."

Lugo's lip trembled and he wiped a tear.

"I'm not normal, I've never been normal. Hell, you and I met because you were part of that malicious prank to humiliate me. Remember that? Let's recap: over a conference call, in front of people that would respect me and promote me, a triple-caff coffee gave me the worst case of bowel thunder I'd known to that point. It spilled out of me hard and fast, like a pressure sprayer. Like an invisible paw had grasped my rectum and squeezed, loading the back of my pants with a vile mound worse than any I'd known in a long time. I'm used to the occasional accident, but in the middle of the day, in the middle of a meeting with people you respect? A big, nasty pile filling out the back of your protective briefs, pieces spilling out, down the legs of your pants, shattering any illusion of normalcy?"

Lugo felt a rise in his own absorbent underwear, but his brain felt guilty for it.

"All this because of you and Wesley. And I forgive you for all that, yes, but from the start I have never been normal. I'm always at a disadvantage, because things that come automatically to you, like not shitting your pants, I have to keep mental tabs on. I'm never at 100%. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal."

"And you knew that. And you married that. My disease is now yours, like it or not."

"Fucking Christ," Lugo sighed.

He started his old Blumpferwulf SUV, growled as it pinged at him to check the engine, then drove off.

~~~

Traffic was negligible in the dead of night, but in the slipping suburb of Leakguard, Lugo made sure to lock his doors. This suburb was teetering right on the edge of welfare and gang warfare, already leaking anyone of middle-class standing or higher to the slow creep of petty crime, rusting Leakguard's economy. Less and less tabletop gaming shops and comic book stores, more and more liquor stores, smoke shops, and questionable Chinese takeout.

Lugo's belly was extra full, and the wolf's ears burned as he heard it gurgle and groan. His large intestines were one big water balloon right now, and the only thing stopping it was the wolf's ring clenching around a buttplug the size of a small fist.

"Shit, fuck, shit, fuck," he groaned as he shifted in his seat, safety undies crinkling, his bowels cramping and his anus twitching. He focused his attention on following behind slow shitmobiles and used compact cars.

Idly, Lugo's mind tossed the subject of "impoverished households" and Kioga's "medical incontinence" around. People born into poverty were at a disadvantage to those born into abundance, just as Kioga was at a disadvantage to anyone with proper bladder and bowel control. Lugo wondered if Kioga's parents were at all to blame for Kioga's defective body.

The large wolf's intestines rumbled as a gallon of water and "other" shifted around.

"This was a bad idea," Lugo grumbled, rubbing his ballooned-out stomach, avoiding putting any pressure on it. He had a perfect beer belly, round and firm, with a thick set of pects on top like a daddy-bear twenty years older than himself.

It was an unfortunate fact that it could be so hard to keep up with the status quo, and for Lugo's sake, who had a rather good job, it was just the same, except he was also supporting an eccentric and indulgent lifestyle, as well as a husband who mentally and medically needed such fancy trappings.

What about Mr. Middle Class, he with house, kids, and cars? Did he, with his regular job, and regular life, ever regret not pursuing any of life's eccentricities? In striving to accomplish his regular life, did he ever worry that the fruits of his full effort didn't wholly fulfill him?

There were certainly many mistakes to be made in a kinky lifestyle, Lugo thought as his wolf-guts squelched. Wetness squirted from his rear into his adult diaper, under his adult-sized romper. The wolf nodded at himself as his seat soaked up his tiny accident: the patchwork life Lugo lived was often satisfactory, but very often required a studious application of tape, both diaper and duct.

A secondary warning light came on in Lugo's old BWV and he barked. "How the fuck can there be two of those?!" he shouted, and while his mouth expelled so explosively; so, too, did the back half find it appropriate to evacuate.

"Oh, ffffffuuu-" he groaned, and his throat clenched into about the same half-open shape as his rear spincter. The wolf's tail went high against his driver's seat and with a pop, his buttplug thumped into the seat of his diaper amidst a flood, spreading his anus open as cloudy, body-temperature water gushed from his rump into his diaper, filling the seat, then the center strap, and finally the front as Lugo lifted himself from his chair. A number of guttural, rumbling sounds came from both ends of him as the wolf's bowels gushed a gallon of hot enema water into his American Apogee: Cubz XXL diaper, sagging it and swelling out against his thighs, burdening it more and more

Lugo drove slow, his eyes flickering at the compact car in front of him as the unit between his legs ballooned into triple-padded crotch armor. Inside, his cock and balls swam in a humid, sticky swamp.

"Oooof, that's fucking good," Lugo moaned as his asshole continued to piss warm, dirty water, his thick thighs flexing against the soft cotton-latex short-legs of his romper as that diaper grew thick, swelling out to the width of his rump, twice the size of his crotch, and pushing against his muscular thighs until they couldn't stay together. That padded armor was nearly a foot thick under his groin and weighed a ton, heavy as concrete yet as hot and soft as a toasted marshmallow.

In weight and size, Lugo was pretty much carrying a literal toilet from his hips.

It didn't help that in his sloshing, swampy sanctuary, his sheath had filled to bursting as well, and his huge, heavy wolf-meat was foisting up the front, pushing his plump diaper nearly out to the steering wheel. All that weight of the diaper shifted to the tip of his cock as Lugo realized how hard he was.

Glancing at the road on occasion, Lugo stared down at the enormous, basketball-sized bulge between his legs. He couldn't hide this girth in a pair of pants, not even a skirt!

"What the fuck," he said as his heart thumped, "this is the third time tonight! I really am a dirty, gay, baby diaper-slut..."

But that wasn't all. One snap in his romper's snap-crotch popped, and then another. "God, fuck, not again," Lugo groaned, sweating and panting as his cock pulsed in his colossal, soaked diaper. The crotch was thicker than his muscular thighs! He couldn't press his legs together, and the right one was really tilted in trying to press the SUV's pedals. He sat back in his mess and murred as hot padding squished water back up against his rump, rushing to cradle his groin in soft, wet wonder, coaxing his hips to automatically thrust into it.

Lugo pulled over just in time for the rest of the snaps of his romper to burst open. The stretchy garment flew from his crotch, exposing his enormous white and cub-printed dome of a diaper. It was like he was wearing a beach ball full of piss-soaked fluff.

Lugo pushed the waistband down, getting a humid whiff of hot intestine water with a delicate hint of his crap. His cock was warm and wet to the touch, and his egg-shaped balls were soaked in their fuzzy, sopping-wet sack.

"You dirty, gay bitch," Lugo growled at himself, then as cars rushed by his own, he got to work on his cock, stroking, squeezing, and yanking. That diaper clung to his nethers, swaddling everything between his legs and below his waist and keeping them safe. They were protected from the outside, and at the same time the outside was protected from them. Should either of his holes leak, as the rear one just did, it would catch it no problem.

The water, the soaked padding was so warm, so enormous, filling the seat of his car and cradling his rump and his balls, which were marinated in that musky, earthy swamp. Even if it had been a full load, pushed out of his rear and piled up underneath him, molding and squishing as they released a full savory stink, it would be soft, thick pleasure until the instinct to change overtook him.

His cock responded in kind, a large, throbbing nine, almost ten inches in trembling hardness, drooling copiously over his paw as he stroked it. The tip was firm as a spade and the knot was two hard golf balls, and the shaft, wet with pre, glowed with heat. His diaper cradled him as his cock stood at attention, pulsing, pouring pre, needing to inject into a hot hole. The sound of crinkles and the smell of mess-tinged musk filled the cabin, and the wolf found his hips thrusting, thrusting, and thrusting into his paw until the slit opened up and he let out a howl, gushing, squirting a long volley of cum all over his paw, his chest, his stomach, the steering wheel, his face, and even a little bit on the rearview mirror.

Lugo lay back in his seat, canine teeth all glimmering in the Leakguard streetlamps. He fell back in his seat, head light as air, eyes dazed, and felt a little more water squirt from his rear into his hot, squishy padding.

He didn't see the red and blue lights in his window, nor notice any pedestrians until there was a knock at the window. Lugo's heart jumped and a tiny turd popped out into sodden marsh between his legs.

The cop was a pleasant female skunk in her mid-thirties, stocky like a mustelid but with a full bust and curved hips. She was buried in her notebook with a pair of aviator sunglasses hanging from the chest pocket opposite her badge. She wasn't very tall, and could barely see over the driver-side window's ledge.

Lugo, his heart pounding, his cock and knot hanging out from a huge saggy diaper, the whole car smelling like a rank fart over a bukkake scene, rolled the window down just slightly. "Uh, can I help you?"

The officer flipped a page on her notebook, then leaned toward the SUV's hood to check its VIN. "About to ask you the same question, sir. You're parked on the side of a busy road; is there a problem?"

She muttered something into her shoulder radio, then pulled a smartphone from under the notepad and compared it to her writing.

"Uh, no, just had a leak," Lugo said, trying to pull his romper's crotch-flap over his junk, which was still erect and smothered in cum. "Yeah, spilled coffee all over myself and ... I was brushing my teeth and I sneezed toothpaste everywhere--"

"Sir, that's distracted driving" she interrupted, looking through the window. She had pretty brown eyes and a pink nose, and an amazing stripe going up her blunt snout. "You seem to be talking straight, so I'll just tell you the more you hem and haw about your predicament, the weirder it gets for us servicewomen and men. You don't need an excuse if you're normal. Got your papers?"

"Uh, yeah," Lugo said, then reached to the passenger seat, suppressing a groan as his soaked diaper crinkled and squished, and grabbed it out of a little pack Joe had sent his "dirty gay baby" out with.

The skunk snorted, wiping her arm across her nose. "Phew. No offense, you smell like my brothers after a long night of chicken wings and video games. Y'all right?"

Lugo attempted a page from Wesley's playbook. "Uh, couldn't that be seen as discrimination?"

The skunk officer groaned. "Look, we don't have to get into the politically correct stuff. The correct way to handle a person is as a person, within the context of local, polite society. Let's just get this traffic stop over with, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Lugo said, then when he rolled back onto his diaper, it squished against his balls and rump, massaging and cradling them. The wolf let out a long, low murr as his cock leaked into the flap covering it.

The skunk growled and snapped her notebook closed. "Sir, could you please stop fucking around?" she asked, then with one paw on her pistol, she put the other on the window's ledge and stood on tip-paw.

What she saw was a wolf in full-on adult-baby gear, with an enormous diaper between his legs and an erection that had gone off all over the dashboard and himself.

"For fuck's sake," she said, pinching her tear ducts. She took a walk in a small circle, trapped between a sexual deviant and traffic rushing by her. "It's that goddamn Joe Pistoli spreading that decadent Seattle crap all over our fine ..."

Lugo's ears burned, being outed like this. He felt filthy--he was filthy, in a soiled diaper and a sealed outhouse hotbox--and all his efforts to be a respectable person just flew right into the seat of that extra-large crapsack taped around his hips. "Now hey, we ABDL people have rights, too! Let's not get into political correctness!"

"Save the PRIDE parade," said the officer, rolling her eyes, muzzle twisted with her teeth showing. She went up to the SUV and whipped out her notebook. "Let's get back to polite society, okay? Have you had anything to drink?"

"No."

Her nose pulsed. "Yeah, doesn't smell like beer shits."

Lugo laughed.

"Quiet," she said. "This vehicle is registered to Lugo Perry-Davis. Are you him?"

He put his license through the crack in the window, his diaper loudly rustling enough to tweak the skunk's ears and make her cringe. It fell out into the street; she caught it and returned it to him. "Okie doke, that was easy," she said. "What's the reason for the pullover?"

"I had an accident."

The skunk smirked, staring right down at his diaper. "Want me to write a crash report?"

"Oh no, traffic's flowing fine," Lugo said, blushing in his ears. "Just had a sudden surge on the Brown Expressway."

"That's disgusting," she said with a cringe suppressing a chuckle. Her big skunk tail was up, almost wagging. "And how 'bout that rush on Libido Drive?"

The wolf looked down at himself, muscular body swaddled in a red romper, huge cub-print diaper fat between his thighs, a drizzle of spunk glazing everything. "I ... I'm so sorry. I tried to contain it. I wasn't doing it in public!"

The police officer ripped off a page in her notebook and, wrapping it around his license, slid it through the crack in the window. "But on a public road. If a kid was on his dad's shoulders walking by, or in a taller vehicle, he'd have seen everything. We have a fair number of decency laws here in Leakguard. May seem a bit tyrannical but it's just so people keep their paws off each other."

Lugo caught the slip of paper and opened it. It said "Warning" at the top, but in pen she'd written "FIRST AND FINAL" and signed her name at the bottom, Ofc. J. Somethingsomething; he couldn't read it.

"Wow," the wolf said, shifting in his seat and cringing as his rump dragged his squishy sack, "This is ... thank you."

Officer J. Somethingsomething nodded. "Call it bias, but you were MOSTLY keeping to yourself, and you even had the decency to pull over to ... relieve yourself."

Lugo had never seen someone half-smile, half-cringe, but the skunk pulled it off.

She continued, "That and people 'round here aren't the nicest to us, but gangbangers will gangbang and we gotta bang 'em right back."

"What about weed laws?"

Officer J. SS rolled her eyes. "I'm just the messenger. Sucks that it's illegal, my brothers smoke it while farting in their gaming chairs all night, but a law's a law until the people get it changed."

"Do you ever let them off?" he asked. Lugo was slowly forgetting that he was sitting in a highly-diluted swamp of his own filth, in a mostly-white diaper brighter than the policewoman's headlights.

The skunk leveled her eyes at him. "I make sure I'm not on duty when I'm with my brothers."

"Ever pulled them over?"

Then her smirk faded and she shook her head. "Yep. I was on patrol, in between calls, and the middle brother, let's say his name is ... Pepe ... calls me up, high as a kite. Dispatch had already pinged me twice, saying that Pep was calling 911 for a munchies delivery. Pickle buffalo chocolate-chip cookie-dough milkshake."

Lugo's stomach gurgled, and he tried to sneak a fart to relieve himself. Instead, he felt a soft, squishy squirt splurt out into the seat of his diaper with an audible pop.

Officer Somethingsomething gave him the stink-eye. She took out some lip balm and painted her nose in mint, anticipating the extra stink. "Don't make me get you for public defecation."

"But I'm not--"

"Public road. You just did."

"It's contained!" Lugo complained, "Is it illegal to be incontin--"

Shut the fuck up," she said. "Now, do you wanna hear the story or do you want to go home to your husband, who is actually incontinent?"

Lugo perked up in his seat, then felt that mess against his rump and cringed. "How did you know about Kioga?"

She waggled the screen of her duty smartphone at him, containing lines and lines of text.

"Ah, cool," he said. "No, please continue."

First he fucked Joe Pistoli in the back of the pharmacy, then he fucked Joe Pistoli again in his private apartment, then he got pulled over and decided it was storytime with the Leakguard Police Department. Infidelity and delays: with Kioga's current mood, it was practically child neglect.

Yep, he was divorced as fuck. Hear ye hear ye, 'til death do us part or fuck you, you adulterous self-absorbed douchebag.

"But yes, I'd imagine that milkshake would actually smell better coming out than going in," she said, then with a laugh she shook her head, sadly smiling. "Pepe, what a crazy boy, he actually skunked his pizza one time. Dropped his pants and sprayed it. Full-on; it cleared the room. I actually had work later that night, so it was an entire can of Tomato Febreze to get me back to normal. They called me Officer Ketchup for a month," she said.

Lugo's tail wagged, his body begging him for a shower and a change.

"But he still ate the pizza," she said, "the whole pizza. And it was a large deep-dish: the size of a kid's mountain bike tire and just as thick. I didn't know that stomachs could bulge like they do in the cartoons."

For effect, she attempted to bulge her own stomach out, but could only manage a bend of her back. She traced, instead, the silhouette with her paws, way out past her body. Traffic continued to rush past her in the back, red and blue lights flashing and coloring her up. "Like, it was out, and resting on his thighs, amazing."

Lugo smiled, feeling warm and safe. The thought of a plump male skunk was somewhat sexy, having a big round belly to rub while he fucked its ass. He rolled the window the rest of the way down and leaned on it, then as a courtesy waved his arm to toss his fumes to the wind.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "but apparently men like the scent of their own ... everything, so what can you do. Anyway ... I'm not keeping you from Mister Davis, am I?"

"Are you married, Officer?" asked Lugo, settled into his warm, soaked situation.

"Not yet, no," she said, fiddling with her notebook. "Lots of twiggy male crusaders and soft male babies ... no offense. I guess I'm old fashioned in my men. You ain't so bad, but I wouldn't change you. Why do you do it?"

Lugo shrugged. "I'm a big scary male during the day. At night, maybe I like to kick back."

"Ain't the worst excuse. I like my girly books. Manly men and nurturing housewife princesses. How's the marriage? You didn't seem to ..."

She blushed, looking at that long rope of spunk hanging from the rearview mirror, hanging there like alien slime, and the wolf grinned. "What, save it for the husband?" he asked, "Well, there can be a point, where you fuck up so bad that you've hit bedrock. That's how deeply you've dug. So as long as you don't cause any further collateral damage--y'know, blow up the bedrock, fall into lava--then you may as well take your time marching back out of that hole."

"I dunno," she said, "I've had plenty of perps turn their misdemeanors into felonies, and their felonies into 'welp, ya dun fucked up now.'"

"Your brother, then."

She shook her head, then checked behind her as traffic rushed by. She moved closer and leaned on the window, coughing once as her nose entered Lugo's steamy, spunky outhouse. "Pepe, God damn it. So I apologize to Dispatch, order a pizza to be sent to Pepe's apartment, call Pepe up and tell him to stay put. I'll get him his dream shake, too. Miraculously, there is a lull in crimes in Leakguard. Impossible, right?" the skunk exclaimed, grinning as she spread her paws and arms wide. "No shoplifters at Walmart, no gunshots in the Trotsky Title-8 Apartment Block, and no riots in Chupete Pequeño because the La Consolas v. La Computadora Raza Maestra game was postponed."

"Soccer game was postponed, wouldn't that cause a riot?" Lugo asked, stealthily tucking his anatomy back into his diaper. His paw dipped into his humid, soaked padding, so afterwards he grabbed some sanitizer and cleaned his paws.

"Nope. Only when one of those teams win."

"I mean, I love the Computadoras," said Lugo, "but the Consolas just seem more simple in their strategy."

Officer Something shrugged. "Eh, personal preference. You know which one has a better performance record, aside from some exclusive picks."

"Sure, sure, La Computadora, Raza Maestra!" Lugo said, trying to keep his ears from folding as his bladder released without his permission. The urine quickly filled up the front, pooling with a clear meniscus that rose up his sheath, then hovered at the top of his waistband. He was never so aware of liquid surface tension until that moment, where the water level moved against the front of his groin, just above his bladder, with every twitch.

His leakguards did their job, but a single move would flood his driver seat. He froze, letting her continue. Was like driving with a full Big Gulp in the cupholder with no lid.

"So the night was miraculously empty," said the skunk, "and I picked up wings from Pagliacci's Wang Dang Doodle, a fat jar of pickles from Ma Spagget's Grabbit n' Go, and paw-folded ice cream from Dantissimo's ice cream shop."

"Those are all extended family of Joe Pistoli, y'know," said Lugo.

"Ah, fuck me," said Officer Something. "So an Italian Babyfur Mafia is gonna sell dinosaur chicken nuggets, pureed pickle cups, and superhero ice cream?"

"Oh yes, with industrial changing tables in the back of their stores," said Lugo with a smirk. He ... was leaning more gay than straight nowadays, but if she could be tempted to change his diaper, maybe give him a little rub and tug while he sucked on her breast, that would be just fine.

But he was gay: somehow, frotting genitals between a cock and ... an inside-out cock ... seemed alien. Strange mental block; somehow fucking his husband's poop tube was more sexy. He loved watching that cheetah's small cock bounce and lurch before spurting cum all over himself.

"Look, no," said the skunk with a smile. "Joe's a nice guy. My sister's kids play little-scrub basketball with his hatchlings. People just think it's strange but I'm not holding judgment, aside from my own. I dunno. I like curling up with a book and a thistle tea, I guess you like cartoons and, uh, diapers. I'm sure it's convenient--"

"And comfortable!" interrupted Lugo. He jumped to show off his big, fat diaper, but then his hackles went up as hot piss spilled all over his thighs. Officer J. SS frowned as his romper's crotch went dark.

"Shut up or you're getting that ticket," said the skunk, "So anyway, I grab all those delicious ingredients and even a fucking blender from Walmart, because you don't need a blender for Hot Pockets, and take all this over. I think one or two of my brothers have used diapers during their gaming sessions, now that I think of it ... Well what do you know, but on my way back I nearly rear end a car going fifteen in a forty-five, scraping its wheels against the right curb."

"Oh no," said Lugo.

"It's no good," the Officer said, lifting her hat to run a paw through her headfur. "I walk up to the window, get blasted with bad marijuana. In the driver seat is Pepe, driving his friend's car. He has all the ingredients in the back seat and the ice cream's melted. Must have been driving for an hour."

The wolf's ears fell. "You didn't--"

"DUI," she said, paws on her hips, standing free of the car. "Took away my brother's own license."

"Shit..." Lugo said, falling back in his seat. That was a move too far, and his fur spiked as urine drained out the back of his diaper as from a pitcher. Soon he was in a little kiddie pool of his own pee, with faint droplets running onto the floormat. The car filled with pungent urea.

The skunk sighed. "Yeah, but what can you do. I told him to stay put."

"You ..." Lugo said, squirming in his puddle. "You did the right thing."

"Gimme the warning back," she said, and the wolf handed it out to her. Her paw hesitated on the ticket when she saw him completely soaked in the crotch, car stinking like a full toilet left overnight, then she frowned and took the paper. She tore it into confetti, then tossed it into the air with a flourish. "Thanks for lending an ear," she said.

Lugo smiled and leaned up in the car. The little bit of wet turd clung to his rump, and his balls, thoroughly warm and humid, hung low in his swollen valley of padding. "Heh, I bet this is one of the more messed-up traffic stops you've let go, officer."

The skunk shrugged. "Call me Jewel. No, sir, I understand. Everybody hurts. Everybody's got a burden they're hauling. We do our best, knowing sometimes there will be a stumble or two. But we keep on going toward our personal mountaintops we call success. Now you probably have a husband to get to, doncha?"

"I do."

"And a shower?"

"Post-haste."

Jewel nodded, adjusting her hat and putting away her notebook. "And you get that diaper changed right away, you hear me?"

Lugo saluted her. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!"

~~~

There wasn't a garage included in their budget apartment complex. There wasn't even a driveway; there were just parking spots in front of each of the three-stack buildings. There weren't enough parking spots for one-car-each, but fortunately not everyone owned a car. Leakguard was accessible enough for bussers and bicyclists, if a person locked the fuck out of their bike.

As such, Lugo took a long breath once he pulled into his spot, then coughed a couple times as the musky stink of male wolf piss and tainted enema water filled his nostrils again. His cock rose, fighting against six inches of heavy, soaked diaper crotch. "Not again, boy," the muscular wolf said as his enormous padded bulge grew.

Lugo rose in his seat, struggling to snap the crotch of his romper closed, but his diaper was just too big, a huge plastic blob wrapped between his legs. "Fuck this," he said, then checked around the complex, saw that people partying on their porches were pretty drunk, then got out of the vehicle.

Piss water splashed on the street, turning a few heads.

"'Ey, it's the diaper wolf in the BWV!" shouted a mongoose with a gold chain, a large bottle of malt liquor, blinged-out jeans, and a bent cigarette, "Woo, baby needs a change!"

"You shit yourself, boy?" shouted his deer friend, stumbing with a joint and a half-bottle of bad brandy.

This deer turned around and squatted, shaking his rump in his saggy jeans. His jeans slipped down, revealing boxer briefs. Egged on by his friends, the deer ripped a fart, which started real loud then suddenly got wet. His underwear got dark, and a small bulge pushed out under his tail.

"Hahaha!" the deer said, "Shitty diaper baby!"

The deer farted again, but it sputtered and got guttural. The tiny bulge grew into a lump, then several lumps, sagging down in a thick brown pile. "Yeah, you little bitch!"

"Dude!" said the mongoose, then grabbed his other friends, slapping their shoulders and pointing. "Dude fucking shit himself," he giggled, and then the friends started laughing.

The deer's ears fell. He looked around, then he reached back and groped that big mound of mess he'd made in his underpants. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he said, then tried to run inside. His friends stopped him, then threw him out into the lawn. His pants fell around his ankles, he dropped his brandy and stubbed his joint, and as the deer struggled to pull his pants back up, the mongoose dropped his pants and underwear and let out a hot stream right onto the deer's face.

"C'mon, shitboy, looks like you got a new fetish!"

The deer's pants were thoroughly twisted as he struggled to get up. Lugo felt his own cock rise in his soaked, sagging diaper as the deer rolled around on the ground, seat of his underwear full of crap and squished between the lawn, his rump, and his sac. The mongoose and two others were now pissing all over him, soaking his shirt and the front of his briefs.

Lugo shook his head, smirking as he gathered up all of Kioga's medical supplies, diaper supplies, and a stone-cold pizza, then started waddling up the stairs. Furs could be complete animals when they wanted to.

Halfway up the second flight, the tapes of Lugo's diaper gave out and fell between his feet, crashing down on the step and exploding like a hot water bottle. It splashed up between his legs and sent pounds of wet gel shrapnel splattering in all directions.

"Fuck," Lugo said, balancing an ABDL box, medicine, and pizza with one muscular arm as he stooped to pick up the diaper husk with the other. It was just the wrapper, so he wadded it up in his paw and kept walking.

He arrived at his door, number 303, and let out a soft sigh. The wind teased his wet undercarriage, naked save for the flaps of his romper. Down in the lawn across the parking lot, the hooligans had stolen that deer's pants and thrown them in a dumpster, and then had returned to the same porch to keep drinking and smoking.

The deer waddled after them, half-drunk, half-stoned, his browned-out underwear sagging under his tail. He was trapped with a piss-soaked shirt and underwear that clung to his groin, also soaked, and tried to stay against the wall to cover up that rank mess in the back.

"No, dude," they said, "you don't go back inside until we're done partying. Get drunk and we'll forget all about this."

"Yeah, shitty deer baby," another said. It was a rabbit with gold bling over his buck-teeth. He put his cigarette in his mouth, then wound up with his paw and spanked the deer right in his lumpy butt.

This splattered spritzes of scat against the building wall and also on the rabbit's paw. "Oh, fuck!" shouted the rabbit, holding out his shitty paw for any sort of towel or wet wipe.

"Nah, nah!" said the mongoose, then grabbed that rabbit's paw and smeared it all across the rabbit's white tank-top. "I knight thee Sir Shitpaw of the Brown Table!"

"All right, so we got Shitpaw and Shitdeer," said another friend. "How 'bout you, mongo?"

The mongoose spread his paw. "Yo, I'm not the one sucking turds like cocks like those diaper faggots," he said, pointing toward Lugo. The wolf flipped them off, but he decided to let this imbroglio broil: no intervention.

"Fair's fair, mongo!" said the friend, a blue iguana with jewelry on his head spines.

"Fair's fair?!" said the mongoose, "we ain't in no Communist country, crap and crap alike! We're in a Crapitalist one, where if you shit yourself, that's YOUR problem."

Lugo chuckled, remembering that he was suffering from the other end of capitalism: he was getting paid the lowest possible sum for his awesome work, which was still okay, but there were always more depraved individuals out there willing to sell their souls and their health for a better cut.

Money was the root of all good and evil. Beyond good and evil lay a happy, meaningful life.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the deer pushed the mongoose into an outside chair, then sat, full-force, on the mongoose's crotch and ground his lumpy, brown boxer-briefs against his friend's lap.

"Fuck, get it off, get it off!" shouted the mongoose, watching his blinged-out jeans go wet, brown, and slimy in the front. He couldn't stop staring at the deer's wet, cotton-wrapped bulge which seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Tenting.

The rabbit whooped, pumping his fist and stealing the deer's brandy off the lawn. "Hey, now we got King Scatfag, 'cause you got poop all over your dick!"

Lugo smiled, then hefted his ABDL box and called out, "Get some diapers, you filthy cubs!"

Triumphant, Lugo deftly unlocked his apartment door and entered.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" called a voice from inside.

~~~

Lugo thought he already smelled ripe and ready, his groin and rump soaked in piss and lightly-messed water, open to the air under his romper's flaps, but what lay inside was pungent, full, and old.

The bony cheetah Kioga was sitting at his PC gaming station in nothing but a lumpy, full diaper. The front was pale yellow and ribbed like a basketball, bulging forward between the skinny cheetah's legs at least a few inches, all solid, wet and soiled padding.

The waistband was the only part of the back of the diaper that held its shape: nice, white, pleated, and snug above the cheetah's tail. Over the back of the chair's seat, sagging on either side of the pole that held up the chair's back rest, hung the huge lumpy rear of the thing. Full and full again, holding it all in, it packed a day's worth of meals that the cheetah's metabolism had barely touched: all sorts of food just slid through him to pile up in the seat in big, long turds.

"Don't tell me you've been there all day; your legs are going to fall off," Lugo said.

The Cheetah shook his head, pausing a heavily-modded fantasy medieval RPG where the main character didn't have any fatal weapons, but had a sword of bladder control, a conjuring spell of full bowels, libido powder, a water spell that targeted the rectum, a quiver of arrows tipped with poisons of cock growth and breast growth, throwing stars that turned into full-size diapers, a tentacle bullwhip, and an orgasm ray.

Currently, he was fighting a giant dragon in its cave who had its tail pulled between its legs as it desperately tried to stem its geyser of cum and the avalanche of turds spurting from its crotch and all over its own treasure horde.

Kioga's player character was a knight who was sporting a diaper almost as loaded as his own, with the words OVERENCUMBERED! appearing above his head.

The cheetah rolled his eyes. "I've gotten up for food and drink refills, obviously."

Lugo spied a couple empty boxes of Hot Pockets, a half-empty jug of Gatorade, and an almost empty plastic bottle of gas station vodka near Kioga's footpaws. Lugo also rolled his eyes.

Kioga almost turned back to the game, but cringed as a stomach rumble went on for a couple seconds. "Oof. Hey, did you get my pizza and medicine?"

Lugo held up the box and waited by the door. Kioga frowned, then braced his paws on the armrests and leaned forward. "Here we go..." he groaned, then tried to stand. His arms wobbled and knees shook, and his overloaded diaper crinkled as it shifted forward. The waistband pulled at him as Kioga stood, and then the cheetah's legs buckled and he fell back in his chair.

There was an audible squish, like a boot mashing through mud, and the cheetah did a full body cringe as he fell back in his mess. "Fuck, I need a shower. Pizza?" he asked, turning his chair around and stretching toward his wolf husband with grabby paws.

Lugo set all the other stuff to the side, then carried the pizza box and the lactose pills to the cheetah. He'd all but gotten used to the old sewer stink that would accompany Kioga on his fugue days; he just wished it wasn't the go-to scent of their living room.

The cheetah opened the box and chowed down, getting through an entire pizza slice as if it were a stick of gum and starting on a second before he frowned and set it aside. "This is stone cold, Lugie," he said, then tossed the box aside and turned back to his game.

The cheetah set off a super move, then skipped a cutscene, and now his knight character was as big as the dragon, and the dragon was pistoning his head in and out of the knight's diaper, sucking off a thick, veiny cock while a long, thick, unbreaking turd slithered out of its rear, piling under its tail and over the tip that lay on the ground.

So that's why Kioga needed that new graphics card.

Kioga licked his lips and pushed the front of his sodden, heavy diaper against his groin, humping into the soaked padding.

With a moan muffled by his full face shield, the dragon's cheeks puffed out as the knight orgasmed, first filling the dragon's mouth, and then drooling down the fat shaft and filling the front of his diaper and the dragon's stomach as he came a fantastical amount of jizz.

"Elder Abomination Submission!" declared the screen, and Kioga moaned as he froze up in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as, obviously, his cock pulsed in his diaper, spurting a few teaspoons into the padding.

Lugo watched with his arms folded, suddenly jealous of the game and very glad he'd had kinky, dirty, decadent sex with Joe Pistoli.

"Where have you been, Lugie?" asked Kioga in a post-orgasmic haze. His knight had returned to the outside world, fresh and out of armor, just in a rump-tight white loincloth riding down a sun-glazed road toward a village made of bright gray stone and gold-yellow thatch. That white loincloth, tight in the front to show a pleasantly plump bulge that wasn't cartoonishly huge, even had a suspiciously familiar couple of silver safety pins in the front.

The wolf shook his head. "Look, as you can tell--"

Kioga's paw shot out and lifted the front flap of the wolf's kid-like romper. The cheetah wheeled his chair over and sniffed his husband's sheath. "Diaper crotch, for sure," he said, then a paw snuck around back, took a sample of his rump's wetness, and he sniffed his fingers. "Hmm. Enema water, not entirely clean. Elements of feces and iron. Suburb tap water for sure."

The cheetah had taken the jigsaw puzzle, dumped it on the floor, and snapped it together before Lugo could even return with snacks and juice boxes. He was glaring up at Lugo.

"Who was it?" asked Kioga.

Lugo folded his arms. "A real person in the real world while you've been playing porn games all day."

"I finally got hold of Sahasrahla after enough phone calls," the cheetah said, then stood from his chair. Suddenly his diaper wasn't so heavy, though it hung from his hips supporting pounds of solid and liquid excrement. It bulged out from the rear to the sides and the front dwarfed his thighs. He marched toward Lugo, who matched his gaze and walked backward at the same pace. "They're at the Beady Hell club having plenty of fun. Doing Russian Roulette with shots laced with laxatives. First ten losers are on diaper duty for the next two hours; they get to remain messy until someone else loses and changes them."

Lugo frowned, smelling his husband's own mess. "Y'know, there's a fun aspect to a clean diaper, as well. Nice, peaceful softness and safeness."

"A clean diaper is nothing more than a guarantee it'll get dirty," said Kioga, his own swishing with every step, its heavy load sliding against his thighs. In the low light of the apartment, with little more than the glow of Kioga's gaming rig and its monitor, the cheetah's thin, emaciated figure looked all the more horrible, the normally graceful lines of his muzzle and cheekbones looking empty like the wreckage of a ship. His spots could not hide the indentations of his ribs; the white of his belly was an empty lunar crater, showing the vast, deep concave of his stomach. "Things fall apart. Crystal vases break and clean white pants get yellow stains. Innocence is lost; a child will always be disappointed when he grows up. Life is a constant battle against entropy: we may as well become the pilots of our life's tailspin in hopes we pull up for one final stall."

Lugo had married an incontinent lich.

The wolf growled at this image of oblivion; it was a horrible idea that the purpose of anything good was just to become corrupted.

"That's fine and dandy, you jackass," he said, walking forward until Kioga had to look up to see his face, "things break down, but things are also built. Every time a medicine or sanitation technique extends our life expectancy, every time an awesome art piece, adventure novel, or exciting video game is released to enthrall us and excite us, and furthermore," he said, taking his paws and cradling the enormous pouch hanging between Kioga's legs, feeling the sheer weight of solid, soaked padding, "Every time a new diaper company creates the biggest and thickest brief for us to unleash the bowels of hell upon, we grow as a species because life, overall, gets better. A clean diaper is a guarantee it'll get dirty? That's what it's meant for. A crystal vase can break? Well, it was beautiful while it lasted."

Kioga smiled, noticing that the front of Lugo's romper had risen. He felt his own spill out of his sheath, then felt it grow warm with a long stream that split into several rivers within his diaper. The brief grew heavier, and he felt a hot pool form beneath his balls. The robust stink of his waste renewed, and he felt embarrassed but safe to be a messy kitty before his husband.

Kioga smiled and gave a little shrug. "Oh, Lugo. You stubborn wolf ... I'm just disappointed. This is what I want. Right here. What you said."

Lugo smiled back, stroking his husband's bare, spotted shoulders. "Are we okay?"

"Getting there, just ... really shitty night. Literally and figuratively, unfortunately. Usually I love a loaded diaper, because ..."

The cheetah paused, then laughed. "Here's the end of your metaphor. A clean diaper is merely a guarantee it'll get dirty. But, with the right effort and attitude, a loaded diaper is merely the prelude to a clean one. With the right precaution, a crystal vase does not have to break."

"See? Our marriage is fixed," Lugo said, chuckling. The big wolf took the cheetah by the shoulders and led him over to their couch, a rather unused thing in light of their gaming chairs. He sat down first and the cheetah tried to stop him, but the wolf's strong arms pulled him down.

With a nervous mrowl, Kioga sat his huge loaded crapsack down on Lugo's lap, and that mrowl turned into a purring groan as his wet, slick mess squished against his rump cheeks, up into the crack, and around his balls. Valiantly, the diaper held it all from the outside, looking "clean" if highly lumpy and discolored. Kioga's pelvic area told him that the insides were anything but.

"Oh Jesus," Kioga said as he grew hard in his soaked confines.

"You're telling me," Lugo murred as his cock rose against the warm plastic padding, finding itself enveloped against its heavy, squishy bulk. "All the food you eat goes straight to your hips," he said, slapping the lumpy sides.

"You stoppit," giggled the cheetah, relaxing back against his husband's broad breast. Lugo's strong, soft paws played with the cheetah's stomach and chest, stroking the soft fur. Kioga gave a long sigh. "I'm really sorry about my tirades. No such thing as a diaper for your mouth; it's either contained inside you or it's all over the pants of society. At first, I was very angry that you disrupted our routine of a nice Friday gaming night: eating, drinking, and pausing for diaper changes. It's ... not the most epic use of time, but it's time we spend together: enjoying some fantasy and some silliness and some sexiness."

"Sure," said Lugo.

Kioga felt the wolf's hips move against him, then felt a paw slip into the front of his diaper. He thought he was spent from the medieval porn game, but the warm, firm touch of Lugo's fingers made him spring to life, and he sighed and started thrusting as the paw wrapped around his length.

"But there's a reason for deviations. I know we haven't been--"

"Shh," Lugo whispered, then his large canine mouth enveloped Kioga's ear and started sucking. Kioga moaned, jetting pre into his diaper as the firm paw continued to stroke him, hearing loud and direct the slurping of the wolf's tongue.

He humped into that paw, heavy diaper hanging from his tiny hips, the bulk of the sack dwarfing his skinny thighs, and he ground himself backwards into his mess, feeling through his pile of crap a thick, pulsing shaft throbbing back against him.

"Oh Lugo," he whined, humping Lugo's paw and grinding Lugo's length, trapped, safe, sexy, and filthy in his diaper, "Fuck, fuck!"

Lugo's thrusts quickened, the crinkling of loaded plastic growing louder and louder as the two males kept humping each other. Kioga writhed in Lugo's lap, the wolf's thick shaft pounding away at his heavy, stinking seat, his own surrounded and dominated by a strong, insistent paw, and then suddenly he couldn't take it anymore.

With a chirp and a loud mrowl, Kioga arched his back, pulled the front of his diaper down, and gasped as he lacquered himself in cum. Ropes jumped from his cock, hanging in empty space, glowing from the screen of his porn game, then landed on all extremities: nose, chin, shoulder, chest, stomach.

Lugo snarled and then bit Kioga's shoulder, pulling his own cock out from the heavy diaper rolls to spray up and down the cheetah's back, cum dumping over the skinny feline like from a can of paint.

"Oh shit, oh shit..." Kioga whispered, then fell forward to his knees, panting as spools of spunk drooled from his body.

"God damn," murred Lugo, laying back on the couch, balls aching and asshole clenching.

"Bath?" asked Kioga.

"Bath," agreed Lugo.

~~~

The one big advantage of their apartment, if there was any, was that the owner had purchased industrial water heaters with the intention of quadrupling the complex's size. Normally, these would be very expensive, but he got them cheap from a strange Russian firm that guaranteed they were free of rust or nuclear radiation.

That said, the Byzantine zoning laws of Leakguard forbade the complex from occupying more vertical space than the local businesses, and also demanded--for environmental reasons--that no more than fifty percent of the landlord's own land be occupied by buildings.

They would get a tax break if they got a windmill, however.

Therefore, these water heaters guaranteed not only scalding hot, but boiling hot water for the entire complex, even if everyone were to fill their apartments with lobsters, crab, and crayfish, flood their apartment, and have a giant seafood cook-off. Seeing the benefit, the landlord put hot tubs beneath the shower heads in half of the rooms and had marked these as "continental apartments" with "luxury bathrooms."

He then tried to charge double, but the local Leakguard market of gangbangers and minimum wage workers just wasn't able to support it. Those apartments remained vacant.

Therefore, he dropped the prices and Lugo/Kioga got a shitty apartment with an incredible hot tub/shower combo. Kioga, skinny cheetah who couldn't maintain body fat even with a lard enema and a buttplug, was pleased as punch.

Lugo let Kioga stay on the floor, dripping in thick, sticky man-paste, while he stumble-walked to the bathroom, cock half-erect and drooling out of the tip. "Fuck," he whispered to himself, having to waddle as not to jostle his aching balls, which hung big and sensitive between his thighs. "Fuck, that was hot," he growled, looking back to see his husband lacquered front-and-back in their respective emissions, a complete fucking mess.

On top of that, feeding into their fetish of the safe-but-sexy, secure-but-so-abusable butt-cover; the wonderful, dependable, disposable diaper; Kioga didn't exactly sit on the floor as much as he sat in the center of a plastic cushion wrapped around his midsection like he was a videogame NPC who was stuck in the middle of a chair.

Problem was, that cushion was lumpy, fat, and discolored, looking more like a trashbag full of turds. A bath was the sensible option.

Lugo turned the handle and water gushed from the tap as from the mouth of a river, flooding the large hottub and filling it in a matter of minutes. Lugo chose to avoid the corncob-boiling max temperature, instead going for something in the realm of enlivening, invigorating, cozy.

Lugo and Kioga's fur was different. Lugo's was thick and a little coarse as to stand harsh Northern temperatures. Kioga's was thin and smooth for hot temperatures in the Savannah, clinging to his form even when he wanted to fluff it out. As such, the body wash they mutually used was a generic store-brand shampoo-conditioner that left Lugo's fur a little too soft, almost oily, and Kioga's a bit too rough, like an old jacket.

If they moved to a cheap Southern or flyover state, they'd be well-off. Here, near the over-taxed, political parasite slut-hive of Puerto Panuela, they were kinda poor. Lugo dumped the shampoo in, then peeled his romper off, noted the dried, stale piss-marinated crotch flaps, and tossed it in one of two hampers, one marked "do weekly."

The other one, which had a rubber seal, said "DO IMMEDIATELY. BIOHAZARD."

"Bath's ready, babe!" he called from the bathroom, then heard a rustle and a loud groan as Kioga struggled to get up.

"All right! Fuck, God damn it ... Just one second!"

There was a stumble, a rustle, then a squishy, squelching thump as Kioga fell back down on his diaper. "Oh my God, it went back inside me! How do you un-poop?! Hnngh ... Oh God, it's even slimier the second time coming out!"

Lugo rolled his eyes, then let out the tub water. He'd forgotten the logic progression: if Kioga would have sat in that bath, they'd have turned the hottub into a giant toilet. He got the shower running, then pulled off a sprayer attachment he'd installed and gave it a few squirts.

"Ready to hose you down, ya filthy animal," he called out.

Kioga eventually made it to the bathroom, holding his diaper to his hips with one paw and holding himself up with the other, using the wall for support. That diaper was so swollen and used, so huge on the cheetah, that Lugo swore Kioga could roll up into a ball and fit entirely inside it.

"Come on, enough lollygagging," Lugo said, pushing Kioga into the bathroom as the cheetah purred, lustily licked his lips, and tried to go down on his half-erect lupine monstrosity. "The stench is gagging me enough already. It's like you shit directly into my mouth; it's fucking disgusting."

Kioga snorted, then once he was in the bathroom let his diaper slip and fall onto the floor with a giant, heavy splat and thud. The skinny cheetah's rear end and the bottom of his crotch was covered in crap, like he'd covered it with mud and let it sit for a few hours to "moisturize the follicles" or some day-spa silliness.

The diaper below him, spread out wide as it could and sitting upright like the crotch of a spacesuit, was fully swollen in the middle strap like a piss-drinking grub covered in lumpy mud.

"What would you say if we installed a toilet at your gaming desk?" asked Lugo, breathing through his mouth and gagging as he squat down and rolled up Kioga's crap sack, eyes bulging as he lifted it and felt his full heft. "Did you eat lead, Kioga? Jesus ..." then threw it in a garbage can marked "Max: 50 lbs. Don't overfill!"

"I'd get thrombosis," Kioga said, shaking his head. "And my sheath points up; shitty part of being a furry male. Scalies and birds have it easy."

"Oh sure, real easy with one toilet hole," Lugo said, then helped his husband into the bath and started spraying him down. The crap came off him in large chunks and the water ran light brown around his footpaws. Kioga helped by using his foot to shuffle the chunks to the drain, then squished them down.

The wolf hooked his arm over his muzzle, his nose stinging and his stomach turning from hours-old scat. Kioga looked at him with a smirk and said, "See, now if you weren't cheating on me, this would be a lot easier."

"Shut the fuck up, Kioga; just shut up," Lugo said, and Kioga's tail went between his legs. He turned around and let his husband wash the rest of him off.

"Our marriage is that fucked, huh?" Kioga said, staring down at his feet, the swirling brown water.

Lugo's ears burned; he didn't expect it to come out that harsh. He was just so fucking tired. It had been a long and terrible year; Ferris-Chalmpers was grinding his ass and having him work at half-pay for a serious scandal that happened a few months back. He took a breath, then gagged at the pungent, acrid scent of cum, feces, and urine. "Love is like a diaper; it only takes so much crap," Lugo said.

Kioga turned back around and Lugo tried smiling at him. Kioga did smile.

Once all the solid stuff was washed off and the tub was rinsed, Kioga stepped out on a folded towel and Lugo gently kissed him on the lips. Then he ran the water, filling the tub in no time. Kioga leaned against him, paw on his muscular chest, and the two of them were happy: nude, tired, but safe in each others' embrace.

"I do wish I was less sick," said Kioga, to which Lugo shook his head.

"And I wish I was richer," said Lugo. "I wish I was smarter. I wish I had tried for that degree in molecular biology or computer science: I was a really smart jock, you know? Or at least dumb enough to not know any better."

"Lugo," Kioga protested.

The wolf shook his head again, then stepped into the tub. He sighed and held back gasps as the hot water soaked into his fur, but then groaned in pleasure as he settled into it. "We can complain about all sorts of things," he said with a relaxed sigh, "but chasing the best with what we've got is what makes life full. Come on in."

The skinny cheetah joined him, and in a split-second of tiredness, Lugo thought of how lucky he was to have a brainy, skinny, snarky feline boyfriend. No, wait: husband.

Fuck, even better.

Kioga Davis was weird, but it was a very interesting weird. They said that everyone is an individual, everyone is unique, but few people could actually prove it like Kioga did. Lugo grasped the cheetah's paw when he stepped in, then kissed him on the lips.

Kioga kissed back, and soon the two were pressed against each other, licking at each other's tongues, muzzles open and locked together. Lugo played with Kioga's nipples while the cheetah's paw went below the surface, pulling at the wolf's sheath until that monstrosity was full and hard again. Lugo leaned down and put his maw around the crook of Kioga's neck, lightly biting to make the cat purr.

Kioga's legs came up and Lugo snuck his cock behind the feline's balls, searching with the tip until he found a little wrinkled hole to push against. Kioga groaned and wrapped his legs around Lugo's waist, then gasped as the wolf pushed himself in, penetrating deep into the cheetah's skinny body and groaning as the cheetah's hole clenched against him.

Kioga gasped as Lugo split him wide; that cock seemed to go all the way up to his stomach and all the way out to his pelvic bones. It was like he'd been impaled on a stake and this is where he'd stay, body hanging from that giant pole driving into him again and again. "Jesus, Lugo," he hissed, bouncing from the wolf's thrusts, feeling his husband's heft within every inch of his skinny lower half, his own cock and balls hanging from the front of his body like some funny ornament. "I forgot ... oh my God Lugo I forgot ..."

"How big I am?" Lugo growled, propping Kioga up against the edge of the tub and fucking that cheetah's asshole with pure, hungry lust, every thrust dumping more energy and sweet, addictive pleasure into him. His cock pulsed and leaked, the knot growing thick.

"How big YOU are," Kioga gasped, watching in amazement as somehow, the wolf managed to drive that huge, pulsing pink log into him over and over. His own cock and balls, puny in comparison, flopped around like a stuffed toy. "All aspects of you. You're an amazing wolf; I love you so much."

This was done in between gasps and grunts, his whole body rippling as Lugo's hips slapped against his pelvis-thin rump. The wolf kept pounding, panting and growling, the black border and pink inner of Kioga's anus peeking at him when he pulled out, wrapped around his cock.

Then his body buzzed with pleasure and a wash of awesome, unstoppable excitement rushed to his balls, then his knot, then his cock, and Lugo hilted himself in his husband as deep as he could. The tip practically propped up Kioga's caved-in stomach as it pulsed and filled the cheetah's bowels with cum.

"Oh shit, yes," Kioga hissed, quickly pulling on his own tiny tool as spunk ballooned his inner walls, trickling up the silky path and back down to Lugo's knot.

Kioga caught up in thirty seconds, rubbing up and down the cock in his ass, then soon his own little pecker spritzed the white stuff on the wolf's hard, wet abs and his own tented belly. "Fuck yeah," he sighed, then wobbled as he switched which arm was propping himself up on the edge of the tub.

Lugo smirked, his eyes stoned with afterglow. "We'll be all right, dude," he said. "Just need to keep at it."

"Yeah," Kioga whispered dreamily, then leaned forward as far as the cock inside would let him. The two kissed, then the cheetah heard a gurgle deep from within the wolf.

"Heh, the body's really funny," Kioga said, then saw that Lugo had a sort of crinkled frown on his face. "You all right?"

"You know," Lugo said, cradling the husband wrapped around his hips and his cock, loving their tight, possessive seal, "I had a really big lunch, and though I had a pretty big accident after work--"

The cheetah purred and licked his lips, nuzzling his husband and grinding his hips, grunting as Lugo's cock pushed his organs around. "You'll have to tell me all about it. I love it when you shit yourself; love that helpless, startled look in your eye, the way you freeze up when your body takes all that dignity and forces it right out."

"--yeah, that," Lugo said, feeling his intestines cramp up, feeling a cock was inside him as well. "Well, the volume didn't add up, and--"

Kioga's tail wagged, which stirred his tail base and made both of them groan. "Oof, mmm ... so you found the rest of it?"

"Yeah."

Kioga was seeing that same look in Lugo now, the widening pupils, the jaw slightly opening, the posture straightening. Then there was another gurgle. "And it's coming fast? Here, don't worry about it--" Kioga said, then put both paws against the tub edge and tried to stand, then found himself anchored to the wolf's crotch. "I'm light, just jump out of the tub, carry me; toilet's right over there--"

Lugo put his paws against the side of the hottub as his tail started to raise. "No, fuck, no; this is slick as hell. I slip, then break my jaw and still shit my--"

Bubbles came from under his tail, away from the hottub's jets. Then the recognizable smell of digested meat and bile came out: acrid, earthy, humid, and ripe.

"...self," Lugo said, then Kioga watched as his lover's mouth dropped open, his throat tighten, and a grunt come from inside him as his entire core flexed.

That big cock was coming right out of Lugo, a solid, slick, wide cable of shit stretching and massaging his tail ring as it piled on out of him. Lugo couldn't believe he was shitting in the tub, helpless and tied to his husband.

Kioga stared right at him, unsure whether to smile or sympathetically frown. This was a big shit: Lugo's abs were solidly flexed, his statuesque body frozen in place. He pursed his lips as the first part of that turd snaked around the corner, an impressive brown rope pouring out of the furry, gray sex machine attached to his own asshole. "Fuck," the cheetah hissed, then spread his legs and started pulling on his cock one more time as his husband shit the tub, Lugo's cock deep and pretty much permanently inside him.

Kioga gasped, lurched, and came a third time, balls throbbing with hints of pain as his cock squirted a few pitiful droplets more. Lugo pinched off or he think he did, then as the fresh, hot, humid smell of his meaty scat hit his nose he could just stare at the stink-viper floating around the tub.

Then Kioga started giggling. Lugo growled, then grabbed it out of the water.

The cheetah saw this, gasped, and put his paws up. "Now, now, love, we don't need to make this any messier than it is ..."

The wolf carried it closer and closer to the cheetah locked against him. Trapped. Kioga started struggling, paws against the tub and trying to pull himself off, but that wasn't happening. No matter how much he struggled, that his spread legs pushed against the wolf's chest, that he squirmed and tried to relax his anus, he was locked tight.

"I mean, you'll have to hose me down again!"

Kioga tried one last push, but his bowels were glued to Lugo. With one paw, the wolf seized Kioga's chest fluff, and with the other he smashed a thick, pungent turd in Kioga's face. Kioga spat as some went into his mouth.

"You're just going to make me more sick!" he complained, then grumbled. "Even though I deserved it. Those will be your diaper changes; you'll end up just using store-brands and paper towels cause it'll just keep coming. I'll stop taking my lactose pills! I ... oh dear."

Kioga's eyes went wide as he felt a familiar tingle in his own tool, a sort of lightness as all its various parts went into action, a series of muscles relaxing in succession. His heart accelerating as his groin grew warmer and warmer, the cheetah looked back at the toilet, then down between his legs, seeing merely the base of the giant flesh anchor holding him in place.

He tried pulling again, cock twitching and leaking a few clear liquid drops, but his ass was tied.

"Fuck, here's more karma," he groaned, then sighed as urine sprang from his cock, first trickling onto his stomach, then picking up force to fall on his chest and then onto his face and neck, growing into a full stream as he helplessly pissed all over himself.

"What a little leaky kitty we have, here," Lugo murred, watching Kioga cringe and try to avoid that continuous deluge, pee streaming from his sheath and trickling and splattering all over his chest, shoulders, face, and neck.

The cheetah spat a jet of urine back at the wolf. "Shut up, you ass," Kioga said, one eye closed, his face's fur matted.

Lugo smirked, satisfied. "Bath two?"

"Nah, got me a golden shower," he sputtered, amazed that the liquid was still coming.

Lugo leaned into the piss stream and into Kioga, giving him a deep kiss as the cat sprayed both of them down. They pressed muzzles and they exchanged tongues, sighing and embracing each other until the stream died down.

Then they broke the kiss.

Kioga nodded. "Bath two."

~~~

Lugo picked up the rest of his ... leavings ... and tossed it across the room to the toilet. Most made it, but the head of that brown snake struck the toilet tank, leaving a nice stamp, and the tail missed the bowl, hitting the floor and rolling.

"So much for a romantic evening," he said, getting out of the tub and yanking the drain.

"Don't be a baby," Kioga said with a smirk, watching Lugo clean it up. Holding his stomach, carrying Lugo's load, the skinny cheetah waddled over to the tub's tap and ran it again to refill it.

His asshole hurt something fierce, but it was also slick, pleasured, and all stretched out. An amazing, delicious workout, and he had a warm load inside of him to remind him.

"Oh, shit," Kioga said to himself, then snapped his fingers at Lugo.

The wolf was squatting down, mopping the floor. His tail was slightly up, showing a portion of his shiny asshole above a set of heavy, juicy balls.

Kioga purred. He had to fuck that soon. Lugo would never cheat on him again because he wouldn't have the energy, the wolf always having one leaky orifice of Kioga's--cock, ass, mouth--going crazy all over whichever fleshy bit Lugo wanted to be pleasured.

"Swim diaper," Kioga reminded, pointing at his rear end.

Lugo shook his head. "Can you hold it for five minutes?"

Kioga was about to retort, but the wolf held up a paw. "I know, I know. Muh incontinence. Which is a legitimate complaint but it's not a problem that can be solved with a sledgehammer or ... a fucking shop-vac hooked up to your cock and rectum."

The cheetah lit up, face beaming.

"No. You're gonna get serious rash if you don't clean your bits. Diaper-mange."

"Eew."

"Yeah."

Kioga felt a sneeze come on, but took a few breaths and held it. He ran the water until the tub was full, then felt his nose itch again.

"I really should have a swim diaper," he said. "I don't want to take a cum dump in the tub; we've shared enough bodily fluids. I mean, I can use some cream and dry shampoo."

"Fuck's sake," Lugo growled, then left the room, rustled through Joe Pistoli's ABDL box, then laughed.

Kioga jumped, startled, and felt himself leak. "What, what is it?" he called for Lugo.

Lugo laughed all the way down the hallway, tossing something in his paws.

Kioga sat on the edge of the tub, knees toward the opposite wall with his tailhole over the tile floor just-in-case, head turned to see.

Lugo came around the corner with what looked like a large pacifier ... with a buttplug attachment.

Kioga groaned. "I'd rather shit myself; that is so fucking tacky."

Lugo shrugged, lubed it up, and helped it into his husband.

~~~

The bath was so soothing. They let themselves decompress: let the outside world do what it will; either it'd nosedive into a culture of instant gratification, no concern for tomorrow, or it'd still be there with some respect for the future. Let their friends do what they will: either they'd grow themselves and become even more successful, like Wesley and Kyrie, or they'd flounder and either reach out to Davises, or float off beyond Kioga and Lugo's reach.

Kioga never had many friends as a child. Most kids were averse to a boy who continued to wear diapers as a baby. He grew up in New Caligula, Washington state's other huge, tech-heavy coastal city, and while it made sense that he could get lost in a big city, the rumor mill was all the more pernicious.

The city public schools had a vehement pack mentality to them: because there were so many people from so many disparate, different cultures and species, it was imperative to find a group for safety. Abdul Kogari Darvish, the weird cheetah with a diaper on his head and on his butt, too weak for his Muslim brothers and too leaky for his feline kind, was summarily found out and became a New Caligula legend.

There were a few merciful souls scattered here and there, but so much bullying led the kitten to severe skepticism, and he turned away most everyone, even other kids with toilet problems, because they were also broken, malformed individuals, and Kogari didn't want to join a massive pity party. What he failed to realize, all these years later, was that they were gathering in solidarity for strength. Forgiveness for unforgiving disabilities.

Eventually, however, even the fastest stone must gather moss. Kogari picked up a hobby and picked friends from there. He got big into collectible card games, and as a teen worked a lot of side jobs to make sure he could buy the cards to make his decks run perfectly. His father insisted it was a waste of time, but Kogari insisted that this taught him strategy and forethought. Also, there were girls there. Muslim girls!

"A woman in the similitude of man has no place in your bed or in paradise!"

"Okay, fine! The game teaches me strategy. First these cards, very valuable, and then my own business! My own franchise! I will rise up in a company that will bring great blessings to you and Allah!"

"Then you may play, my son. Bismillah."

He found a lot of alternate strategies, some that even made it into the game's meta a year later--he swore he invented them--and became irrepressibly excellent at New Caligula Community High School.

Kogari was still a prickly son of a bitch, and by High School barely bothered to disguise the solid white outline of his diaper. This should have been easy, as he oftentimes wore variations of a shoulder-to-toe Saudi thobe, but it was thin and white, as were his loose trousers, so when a heavy wind blew everyone would see his clothes caught against a pair of smooth, bright briefs way too big to be normal undies. People knew he wore them, so fuck 'em. He even changed in the locker room for Physical Education, naked aside from the diaper, used or clean, and for his disability Kogari bore a couple of swirlies and got into a few fights.

"Hey, diaper genie! This is a toi-let!" they would shout as they waterboarded the cheetah in the handicap stall. "You can use this and not carry your dumpy load everywhere!"

Then Kogari punched a guy in the throat, collapsing his airway and almost killing him. That guy happened to be the lead baritone in the school choir; now he could never sing again.

At football games, if he was wearing something Western, a shirt tucked into pants, sometimes the team would take the Gatorade cooler and pour it down the back of his diaper instead of on the coach after a victory.

Kioga would be playing cards on the bleachers, and the first time caught him by surprise. Gatorade poured down the back of his pants, completely soaking his protection, and also over his deck, spilling cards everywhere and ruining them. That deck was one of his super decks, and he lost cards that, a decade later, would be worth over $1000.

A fight broke out that first time, and he got a few good swipes into the quarterback with his claws. The wolf fought back, however, and punched him in the stomach so hard it paralyzed a stretch of his large intestine. Kogari slashed again as his pants fell, the whole thing a morbid, public spectacle with thousands of fans from New Caligula and Tacoma watching two people in furious combat, a wolf football jock stumbling and bleeding from the eye and a pantsless, skinny cheetah nerd wearing a diaper that had swollen and turned blue with Gatorade.

Kioga would never be perfectly bowel-continent again. The wolf would forever have a lazy eye.

"You doing all right, babe?" Lugo said as he relaxed at the opposite end of the tub. They were both nude, but that was secondary. He was just in a bath with his husband, pleasant scented bubbles of generic fur shampoo teasing their nostrils.

Much better than that scat stench from earlier.

Kioga leaned back, going slightly crosseyed as the pacifier buttplug slid deeper into him, plunging the contents of his rectum further in. "Oof. Lugo, you did football in High School, didn't you?"

Lugo nodded, spreading out in the tub, putting a heel on each seat to the left and right of him. A clearer, less bubbly tub would have shown his big gray boys hanging down off the bench. "Offensive Guard, yeah," he said. "I was even bigger back then."

"Holy shit," said the cheetah, cringing as he felt that first clench of his bowels. Lugo's load had been detected, therefore it had to go. "Oof. I'm just trying to imagine you that huge."

"Don't worry about it," said the wolf, stretching a footpaw out to rub his husband's knee. "We were all drastic shapes back then. Now we're getting older, we're slowly settling into something more blurry, just like our brains."

"My ribs are in 4K," said Kioga, chuckling. "And come on. We're not even thirty."

"It's comin' on, for sure."

Kioga smirked, rolling his eyes and settling back. That pushed the plug again, causing him to flinch, but he felt good, submerged in hot water. Completely naked and exposed in this soothing spa with the wolf he made love with, the cheetah was in heaven.

It did feel strange not even being in a swim diaper, or at least a mesh speedo to catch an escaped turd, but then again it wasn't so different: his crotch and ass was soaked in warm liquid. It was just clean liquid, not something his body had squirted out to get it away.

"It's funny," Kioga said, "I was cruelly teased by football jocks all of high school, but here I end up marrying one. Is it stockholm syndrome?"

"Did you hang out by the football field and lockers a lot?" asked Lugo.

"I mean, some. It was cool background while I was playing my cards. Was kinda inspiring--not in a gay way--to see what a fit, healthy furry body could do. To see other people in the prime of their life; was nice. There was even a cheetah running back on our team. Heh," he said, feeling a hot, humiliated tear come to his eye. "He may have been the worst against me."

Lugo couldn't help but let his ears fold forward, full of attack rage. "It's too bad I didn't go to your school."

"Dude," Kioga said, "You were bullying me at Ferris-Chalmpers up until I had you mess a diaper."

Lugo nodded, cheeks blushing, shame hitting him. "Yeah. I would have been there with them."

"It might have kickstarted your fetish earlier, though," said Kioga. He looked toward the open sink cabinet, seeing cleaning supplies, a plunger, toilet brush, and three stacks of diapers piled all the way up to the bottom of the sink. Easily thirty right there. Thirty big disposable, wearable saftey-pads to soak up all the drippings and droppings coming from him.

"I remember how he did it; masterclass in malicious pranks. I was in the middle of a stilted card game. Forget which one I played that day. I spent thousands; should have saved it for a better college," he grumbled, "Anyway. I was playing with a little panther nerd, and he was the king of the nerds, you know? Had a rich dad so he had all the video games. So even though he was spindly and socially incompetent, he knew that in his little niche, he was King."

"Sure, power goes to the head," said Lugo.

"Anyway," said Kioga, wincing again as his bowels tried to move against the pacifier. "I found way too late thate jerks are the worst people to socialize with. You give them all the benefits of the doubt, then they just toss you away when you're not relevant. It's not even that they stop liking you! They weren't using that emotion to begin with."

"And you can't punch those people because that's assault. You about ready to get out, dear?"

Kioga looked at his pawpads, saw them all pruny. "Just about. Want to finish my story and say something. So this panther king is playing me, and he has no sense of honor. All the games I win? He just complains that I'm using cheap strategies, that I have the good cards, that I play this game too much ... he never concedes all the hard work I put into my decks. And we're playing and playing, and I feel some shadows on the back of me. There's a lot of noise from the practice field and I'm wrapped up in my game. I might have been fifteen at the time. The panther kid doesn't look up either, so I'm thinking it must just be a couple of adults, school staff running around the bleachers."

Lugo nodded, briefly taking inventory of the towels, powder, diapers, everything to get cleaned up and dressed for bed.

Kioga sighed. "I wasn't giving too much of a fuck that day, so I didn't wear my robes, just the loose pajama pants and a graphic t-shirt, bootleg Pokemon shirt from Egypt that said in Arabic, "Who's that Prophet-Man?" and it had a silhouette of Moe because you can't visually depict him.

Lugo snorted.

Kioga smirked, leaning back in the tub. "Yeah, I wish I still had it. So yeah, that day I may as well not have been wearing a shirt, because the hem came right to my belly button, and the waistband of my diapers always snuck above my belt."

"Sexy."

"I wish," he said, then his muzzle crumpled. "It's so fucked up. That running back I told you about, he pulled down his football pants, squat over the back of me with his asshole exposed, because the jockstrap doesn't cover those, and pushed. I heard a slimy, squishy slithering sound, and then I felt something very warm and very thick, hit the small of my back and the top of my rump, just my waistband, which was open because I was leaned over. I didn't see what happened but for the panther king, who happened to look up and stare, wide-eyed, as that running back cheetah's tailhole spread, a thick, solid turd slithered out, and fell into the back of my diaper, half of it slapping against my back and staining my shirt."

The wolf's eyes and ears were wide, muzzle crumpled and showing a few teeth. "I don't even know what to say."

"The worst part was when I sat up, it slid in and rolled right between my buttcheeks. I felt so violated, and I didn't know whether it was because it felt like a slimy, unwanted dick rubbing against my tailhole, or if it was because someone else had used my diaper as a toilet. It just rolled around back there," Kioga wiped his eyes, dismissing it with a chuckle. "I know it's survival of the fittest, and sometimes mockery is prudent because strange things can be potential hazards, but ... how does shitting down the back of my diaper solve anything? If I was running around bottomless with a full load, sure. Put me in line. But ..."

"What he did was fucked up. You weren't attacking anyone, he was. Maybe you were a little over-the-line trying not to disguise it, but New Caligula is where punk moved after Starbucks pushed it out of Seattle."

"Sure, sure."

"So, in the pejorative sense, jocks come in all body types. There's no shame in being awesome at something, whether it's cards, computers, or football," said Lugo, standing out of the tub, helping Kioga out as well, "but if you go around short-changing people, that's the currency you establish, and eventually you will land in a den of thieves, everyone short-changing everyone, and things will collapse. Short-change doesn't buy anything but failure: it does not let the best man win; it congratulates the last man standing."

"You're a bigger man than I am," sighed Kioga, standing in place as his husband toweled him off. He felt his plug twitch and his paw snapped back to stop Lugo's, which was planted on the pacifier tip. Lugo had a little chamber pot ready to catch it.

"It's going in the diaper," said Kioga, "I want to carry it as long as possible."

Lugo's eyebrow quirked. Kioga loved it when the wolf was squatting, as that let his enormoush sheath and heavy balls hang free of his body. A giant cannon affixed to a massive furry machine, ready to lay siege to his asshole or mouth, and very rarely, maybe, a person they could spit roast. Very male, very amazing.

"You know that cum is just a trophy for gay dudes," said Lugo.

"Uh-huh," said Kioga as his husband held onto that buttplug, teasing him with little twitches. "Fuck, mm that's good ... And you know we gay dudes like to carry our 'accomplishments' with us, which includes two more expulsions," Kioga said, then grabbed a diaper from under the sink and slapped Lugo with it.

The wolf rolled his eyes, then took the fresh padding and prepped it, spreading it out and powdering the liner.

"As much of a smarty-pants thinker that you are, and that I like," said Kioga, purring as Lugo gave his fur a quick brush down, then raising his tone as the room filled with crinkles and his husband diapered him up, "there's something to be said for the single-minded jock-male."

"That's toxic masculinity," Lugo said with a small smirk, fetching a cute romper from the other room, one that had a buttflap and a snap-crotch and ... flaps for the nipples ... and rings on the back ... "Shit, got the BDSM one."

Kioga scoffed, stepping into the garment Lugo slipped on. Felt like a spandex blend, but the way his body heated up indicated it was soaked in teflon.

Like they didn't have enough waterproof garments.

"Toxic masculinity is when spunk sits in my diaper for more than twenty-four hours," Kioga said, and they both chuckled. "Anyway, I know there's so many horrible stereotypes about super-male jock-types, but that works to your advantage. You're single-minded: 'be a good husband' and that's it. 'Fix car,' car is fixed. 'Go to work,' you're back twelve hours later. 'Get me medicine at four in the morning,' you drag your ass out of bed, your joints cracking like a bag of teeth in a rock polisher..."

"What?!" Lugo said, freezing halfway through snapping Kioga's romper together.

"Too much? Anyway, you don't complain. You do, the thing," he said, "You serve, your husband. Even though I'm not as good as you."

"Too bad, I love you," said Lugo, then he reached into the open buttflap, down the back of Kioga's diaper, and pulled the plug.

The cheetah shivered and groaned as the thick silicone cone pulled against his anus and then popped out of him, then his bowels pushed with the force of impatience and a solid pint of wolf jizz poured from his tailhole, his anus flexed and his sheath stirring as semen sprayed into the seat of his diaper, pooling against the bottom of his rump cheeks with an audible piss sound. "Fffffffuck, that's the stuff," Kioga groaned.

~~~

They went to bed, Lugo curled up around Kioga and Kioga curled up around Tad, his stuffed rabbit. Same rabbit he had for years, same one he slept with when he was just an intern at F-C. Same one he woke up with before the afternoon that Wesley and Lugo's prank had him messing himself at work on a conference call.

Now Wesley and Lugo were his best friends.

Kioga's ears flicked and his nose crinkled as bass-heavy music and bad weed started wafting up through the floorboards. There was incoherent shouting and then the music was interrupted by an advertisement.

"Our modern lives have an ebb and flow," he heard his own voice say through a sound system.

"Ya Allah," grumbled Kioga. He waited for Lugo to say something, but the wolf had become a giant, dead golem, warm and fuzzy, diaper around his waist, and completely unconscious.

Poor guy.

The commercial continued, "In our modern lives, we don't live moment to moment. We aren't hunter-gatherers. We aren't interrupted by the weather, by feral predators, by disease, by natural disasters--"

"Usually," the cheetah said alongside himself, holding his stomach just like he did in the commercial, winking.

"Aw, fuck, is that the diaper commercial?" shouted one hood rat. He was a mongoose, so no, not technically a rodent, but he acted like every negative stereotype. He lived across the street, but the apartment below them had a few friends.

"What, you gonna paw off to it?" shouted another voice, an iguana with jewelry on his spikes. "I remember you getting shitty diaper dick just a few hours ago!"

"He was hard, too," chimed a deer.

"I took a shower, can we drop that shit?"

"I dunno, you got a diaper you can drop it into? Baby want a big squishy lump to hump?"

The commercial continued, everyone arguing over it, "You can get your groceries when you want to. You can pay your bills when you want to. But when you gotta go," the commercial said, panning to an attractive, professionally dressed female fennec (Kyrie) in front of a laptop, fingers flying on the keyboard. "You gotta go!"

The fennec dramatically stops and gets up, holding her stomach, and runs to the bathroom. Then, when she gets back and sits down in front of her computer, the camera shows all her spreadsheets blurring out and she hits her head with her paw, forgetting everything. Kioga, in the commercial, smiles and shakes his head at the camera. His plastic waistband is peeking out of his office pants, as if he tucked his shirt into his diaper. "Why are we tied down to our prehistoric bathroom needs when our food, water, medicine, money, and shelter is all safely packaged, at our beck and call?"

"This commercial is fucking gay."

"Isn't that the cheetah from upstairs?"

"No, that guy's a bridge-goblin. Holocaust victims tell him to eat a steak and call him Bony Malone, he so skinny."

"He's probably skinny from the AIDS."

"AIDS don't exist!"

"Fuck you AIDS don't exist! Don't gay dudes be eatin' each others' poop right from they ass?"

"Ooooh, tapeworms! That's how gay dudes be so skinny."

"Yeh. They solved AIDS back in the eighties. It was a gubbimint ploy to kill off the homosexuals, since USA birf rates were getting outpaced by Africa and Afghanistan. Was actually a chemical transmitted by shaking a gay dude's paw. Zyklon-C."

Kioga grinned and held his rabbit to his muzzle, heaving with silent laughter, pushing the remnant of Lugo's cum into his diaper. They were too retarded to be offensive.

The commercial continued to Kyrie again. She's in a suit and suit skirt, and hard at work on her computer. Her fingers are flying over the keys, and then she stops again, holding her abdomen.

"A'ight, there's two versions of this!" shouted the mongoose. "Taking bets, number one or number two?"

"Fuck, I know you been jacking it to this commercial!"

More insults and arguments flew back and forth, the rabbit shouting to get back to the music, with the deer saying, "Maybe they have a point?"

"Modernize your life," says the commercial, and the camera pans down as she stands up in her chair, showing the white ridge of the fennec's diapered rump just below the hem of her skirt. She's still typing on the computer as her face crumples just a bit, and then the seat of her diaper expands, swelling out and sagging down below her tail, which then wags over her new lumpy butt.

The apartment below goes wild, some groans, some shouts, some being grossed out and some howling like they were at a strip club.

Then the fennec sits down, slowly, a look of delicious relief spreading across her face.

The commercial ended with Kioga, who back then was fifteen pounds heavier, grinning at the camera and saying, "Let the shit you have to do, be the shit you want to do."

The cheetah stirred in bed, eyes popping open.

He put a paw on the wolf arm wrapped around him and scratched at it.

Lugo grumbled and stirred, his muzzle right against Kioga's head. He licked his chops, and being on top of Kioga's ear it was the loudest sound in the fucking world.

"Hmm? Yeah?" he asked.

"Lugo," Kioga said suddenly, "Where is all our royalty money going? I'm ... basically the diaper Mickey Mouse of Ferris-Chalmpers. And you're a senior editor. Not to mention all those, well, intense commercials we do overseas, where the camera's zoomed in and you can count the wrinkles of my anus while it's jettisoning my jetsam in 16K. All the stuff we did with Fred? That's millions of dollars, and we're paying to live in Title-8 housing--"

"C'mon, baby, me and the boys got some dicks need sucked," came from downstairs, with juvenile giggles from the males from earlier.

"Oh God damn it, those guys," grumbled Lugo, rubbing his eyes, shifting and crinkling. "I thought they were going to bed, Jesus Christ."

"What happened?" asked Kioga, sliding in against Lugo as that strong arm pulled him tight and rubbed his belly.

Kioga heard a wet click by his ear as Lugo's smirk flashed a few teeth. He also felt Lugo getting hard in his diaper. "In trying to make fun of me, the deer shit himself, then his friends pissed all over him, then the rabbit smacked his ass, got shit all over it, then the deer pushed the mongoose into a chair and gave him a lumpy-butt lapdance."

Kioga felt his own length swell to life in his own padding. "That's amazing. Like, I would have totally loved to see that at a fuck-party, them doing all that in front of met, while you drill my ass. Man," the cheetah said, reaching down past his rabbit to grope his diapered tent, "And then they start making out while the deer's grinding his soiled underwear against the mongoose's crotch, then the mongoose opens up his jeans, pulls out his musky cock, tears a hole in the back of the deer's messy briefs and fucks his shitty, slick ass. Then you knot inside me and I cum, hands-free, on the floor or in my diaper. Yeah," Kioga groaned, pushing his plush rabbit down and humping his hard diaper against it.

Lugo growled and grinned, grasping Kioga's hips with a crinkle and grinding against him. "Then afterwards we all get changed and play video games.

Downstairs continued, "Sucked, man? Girl," he said to this other person, "there's three of us and three of your holes."

"I ain't touchin' balls."

"Unless they're covered in piss, right?"

"You guys are gonna have to get me way more drunk, but I'll take another child support check."

There were groans all around.

"Hey, why don't we get drunk, and high, and watch some shit?"

"We always do that!"

"Order food, and we could marathon a whole season of something."

"Yeah, but Sir ShitePaw over here pisses once an episode."

"What if we got those American Apogee diap--"

A roar came from the rest of them. "Aww, Hell no!" went one.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"I knew you boys were big babies. I change enough diapers at home."

"So you fuckin' us makes you a pedophile, right?"

"Bitch, don't turn this on me! Just whip them dicks out and don't hide them in diapers."

"Y'know, if it's just between us ..."

"I am not changing no shitty diaper. Not for your cubs, Bernice, and especially not for you two. Y'all eat roadkill and mustard gas."

"I mean, the main goal here is to get high and drunk and watch a ton of stuff, right? This saves us a few interruptions, and--"

"Man, you guys are fucked," the mongoose said, but there seemed to be an air of approval bubbling around.

"We could ask the guys upstairs for some," said the iguana, "and, y'know, apologize..."

Lugo chuckled. "At least they're discovering diaper play, and not heroin."

Kioga grumbled. "That's all money that we should be making."

"Here, hold on," Lugo said as he heard the downstairs door open and close. He grabbed a stack of American Apogees, put them in a box, and then wrote a note saying, "Guys, it's cool. These are pretty fun. It's not gay or straight, it's just convenient, like those commercials. Love, the diaper-faggot from upstairs."

Wearing only a diaper, Lugo opened the front door enough to set the box out, but the iguana had already made his way to their porch. Lugo blushed as the iguana caught him.

"Uh, hey," said Lugo.

The iguana with the jeweled tips had his hands deep into his pockets. He looked at the adult wolf's diaper once, then his gaze shot to the floor. "Yeah, so ... sorry we was rough on you."

Gaining confidence, Lugo smiled and opened the door fully, leaning on the doorjamb. The stink of their living room was about dead, smelling more like a bad fart than anything nasty. "It's cool. There's people who define themselves by this plastic garment," he said, flicking his clean white briefs, "and that can be awkward. Is it ridiculous? Sure, but people have the right to be weird in privacy. Because then it's not weird, it's them enjoying themselves. I suppose just like booze or gambling, you can do it too much, but ..."

"Yeah, that's cool," said the iguana, then scrambled to grab the box in Lugo's doorway and looked around a few times. "But this is a secret, okay?"

"I don't care what you do. Just no shitty diapers on my doorstep, okay? Because I can shit better than you."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," said the iguana, stroking his jeweled spines, the front of his jeans growing out. "Shit, fuck, um... yeah bye," he said, then waddled with a straining erection back to the apartment downstairs, where his friends greeted him with jeers.

"Whaaaat he's already hard!"

"Fuck this, boys, I'm out."

"Bernice, God damn it, you gotta be such a prude?"

"Prude?! You grown-ass bitches are wearing diapers, and--"

"Yeah fuck we are!" said the mongoose, then there was a thump as he threw down his jeans and, Lugo assumed, his underwear. "Gimme that. I gotta piss bad!"

"Man, girls ruin everything."

"Fuck you I ruin everything!"

"You want one?"

There was a pause.

"Well, with all the kids I pushed out I piss myself anyway."

There was a roar of approval, then a volley of crinkles as they raided the box and started strapping themselves up.

"Bruh, you got that backwards."

"The fuck you mean?"

"That hole's for your tail. No good if your dick's hanging out."

"Fuck, man, I already used the tapes."

"Just drop it and switch it around!"

"I don't want you lookin' at my dick."

"We already seen your dick, you piss with the door open!"

"Yeah, well now I piss wherever I want!"

"Fuck, that is nice."

"How do we know when it's full?"

"When it leaks, fucknuts," said Bernice. "Jesus, you boys make better sons than fathers."

Lugo chuckled all the way to the bedroom.

Kioga was awake, propped up in bed. In this light, he didn't look so ghastly, but rather as a thin, feminine cheetah male that was the perfect lover for anyone ... except that he wasn't wearing a red thong showing off his bulge, but a diaper that had a bigger bulge than he could ever sport.

He was perfect.

"That was a happy ending, Key," said Lugo with a smile.

"Cool," said Kioga with a sigh, "the cavemen discovered how to prevent wet straw."

"Dude, what's up?"

"Our money."

"Do you really want to talk politics at, fuck me," Lugo said, turning his phone screen on. "Three in the morning?"

"I have two modes," said Kioga, softly sighing, his ears flaring he felt the front of his diaper grew dark and swelled, piss joining up with Lugo's load contained safely inside. "One is escapist. The world is correct, and I will pursue my own goals and desires. I'll work on Ferris-Chalmpers projects, or I'll indulge my carnal side with those porn games." He sighed, then winced as he felt his rectum pulse again, dribbling more cum into his padding.

"It's a battle out there. Lotta monsters, lotta heroes," said Lugo.

Kioga nodded, stretching himself out, enjoying the softness and the warmth of their bedsheets, inviting Lugo to join with him and Tad. Lugo slid in behind him, nuzzling into the crook of Kioga's neck. "The other mode is pure politics. No quarter for the enemies. We have to cut through the bullshit to an ideal, beautiful new world. Not one of control and censorship, but of people living their lives, working hard and achieving their goals. Enjoying themselves in private, however that may be. Even if it's shitting in a hot tub."

"Hey, fuck you."

"You did fuck me; great job. So I see the world so broken and it gets me very passionate," Kioga said, stroking the paw that lay across his stomach. "I'm happy I have a husband and my padding to catch whatever craziness falls out of me."

Lugo chuckled. "I like it when you're passionate."

"Yeah," said Kioga, snuggling in tight. "So what was it you wanted to say?"

"Our money is frozen by decency laws," said Lugo. "United Nations and European Union are placing the 'filth' we've released in the same category as ... I don't even know. An over-the-counter pepper spray that causes immediate bladder and bowel release."

"That's kinda hot," Kioga said, swishing his padded rear end against Lugo's hard, crinkling tent.

"Children's cartoon promoting genocide and sex with older males."

Kioga sighed and suddenly it felt weird having the cock of a moralist just two layers of absorbent underwear away from his leaky asshole. "Not so hot. But I understand. So we're pegged as truly evil, as hypnotists that will lead a third world war?"

"Basically," Lugo said, then slipped his paw down Kioga's stomach and slipped it into the diaper he'd already wet once, Lugo cradling his semi-swollen sheath and his balls in the humid pouch.

"Our commercials aren't evil," said Kioga, humping the paw, then he shrugged. "Well, admittedly the ones Evan has been pushing are. Those do promote a savage sort of animal Hell. Some are borderline rape and snuff, even though they're all actors."

"I hate those," said Lugo with a growl, idly massaging his husband's crotch. "For those I would support decency laws."

"Those, yes," Kioga said, twitching and then blushing. He felt himself wetting again, the urine splashing right against Lugo's paw. "Oh, God," he whispered.

"Mmm, keep going," Lugo murred, stroking the cheetah's sheath as it sprayed his palm.

"It's a hard question!" Kioga said, stifling a moan as that paw groped his pissing cock. He was trapped between a needy paw and a needier, hard diaper. "Because at what point do we draw the line?" His padding swelled between his legs, growing fat and warm with urine.

"Malice, of course," said Lugo, slipping a paw between their two diapers. There was a loud rustle, and Lugo's hips shifted.

"But how do you prove intent?" Kioga asked, then felt something thick and firm slap against the back of his padding.

"Your ultimate argument is this, baby. Do we allow it all into the world, the worst drugs and the most vile pornography, with clear labels so people know exactly what kind of rope they're hanging themselves with? Or, do we draw a line in the sand and get a moral authority of some sort--elected representatives maybe--to purge it from the public market, knowing there will be a black market of some sort. Someone will build it because someone wants to cum. Supply and demand, and the devil is insatiable."

"What do you say?" asked Kioga, finding himself unable to stop humping Lugo's piss-soaked paw.

The wolf bit Kioga's neck, then licked the side of his head. Kioga yelped, leaking urine and wolf cum into his diaper. "Malicious actions should always be illegal, but public decency laws are for the public."

Kioga blushed as he heard a faint slice, then felt a breeze under his tail and then a hot, tapered tip. He jolted as its smooth, fleshy length eased itself under his tail. "Again, holy fuck, how many is that tonight?" the cheetah asked, the tip wedging between his leaky spunk-slick cheeks, into his used hole.

"You fucking know it," growled the wolf, then rolled Kioga to his stomach, over Tad his plush rabbit, and pushed his cock into Kioga's cum-slicked asshole, their diapers clapping and crinkling against each other.

Kioga held tight onto his plush rabbit, arms trapped beneath him as his face thumped against the pillow in rhythmic thumps. He groaned as his rectum spread around Lugo's long cock, and he purred as his own hardened against his warm, wet padding. That wolf took him with voracious, single-minded lust, his huge, muscular body rolling over the tiny cheetah as he repeatedly hilted himself against his husband's rump, cock and ass slurping together as he pounded Kioga's diaper-wrapped ring.

When the cheetah's muzzle poked out for fresh air, his mouth open and panting, Kioga smelled Lugo's shampoo-fresh fur mixed with renewed male musk from the big, heavy balls that hung in the front of the wolf's padding, repeatedly tapping on the cheetah's used, white garment. He smelled that old spunk slowly dripping from his hole, feeling it run to the back of his balls, as well as his own piss as it swung in a crinkling pouch against his own cock.

"Oh God, Lugo, oh God," Kioga gasped, face trapped in a cave of bedsheet and pillow, his precious plushie squished beneath him as his cock throbbed in its padded haven and his rump, wet with cum, was spread again for a new load.

His ring constantly stretched, his rectum spreading and contracting around the wolf's thick shaft, his ass fucked with the unrelenting force of that wolf claiming that bottom half, his paws tight around the cheetah's diapered hips as they pulled his small body over a cock that seemed to fill him all the way up to his stomach, sent Kioga over the edge.

Kioga chirped and held his plushie tight as his cock erupted in his diaper, spritzing a few small ropes into the warm, puffy padding. His colon tightened up on its own, and Lugo read that signal perfectly, instinctually pushing deep into his husband's rectum until Kioga's ring slipped over his knot and locked them in place.

Kioga purred as Lugo's cock pulsed deep inside him and spilled another load, warm, thick, creamy cum filling his rectum and trickling upward through his bowels. Both of them panted, chests heaving with effort, heads, chests, and hips buzzing with tired, satisfied pleasure.

They turned sideways together, and Kioga looked out the window, at the moon hanging low behind the trees of the local Booster Park. Druggies tended to avoid the park during the day. Parents let their kids play, but stayed close.

"We're going to be all right, Lugo," said Kioga.

Lugo wrapped a thick arm around Kioga and Tad both. "It's a lot of work to stay alive and feel alive."

Kioga's heart beat with a fuzzy, drunken ease, the sort where he'd behold a disaster with a delayed shock. He decided to risk it. "I don't want to be your saggy, soiled diaper," he said. The cheetah felt the bed move as Lugo shifted, the enormous cock inside his bowels moving against his walls and the load it spilled.

"Nope, this ain't happening," said Lugo, then bent over him and turned his head, kissing him full in the mouth, tongue down the back of Kioga's throat. The cheetah yowled and groaned, penetrated from both angles by the same wolf. Just as abruptly, Lugo broke it off, long strand of saliva between their muzzles. "You're a project car. You may break down a lot, but when you're all fixed up, you purr like a kitten. You're my piece of work."

Kioga smiled, feeling warm all over, feeling a trickle in the front of his diaper. He was a very leaky kitty, but that wolf had the single-minded aim of loving him. Keeping him.

"Sure thing," the cheetah said, then went in for another deep kiss.

Downstairs, there was a unanimous groan, and the mongoose said, "Aww, Hell naw! You're not supposed to shit in it! What the fuck you been eating?"

"Me?" asked the rabbit, audibly crinkling. "A plant diet. And fuck you, this is what diapers is for."

"Those are some pretty spicy plants, Mark. It's not the best stink," said the deer.

"Points on the load, though. Look at that thing sag; no wonder you so skinny!" said the iguana.

"Do boys always have to brag about the dumps they take?" asked Bernice.

"When it's that size, sure! Man, that's its own crash pad, like you smuggling fifty cheeseburgers into the movie theater. You is dummy thicc, bro. Holy fuck, I gotta get a picture next to ..." and then there was coughing. "Aww, it's even worse down here!"

"Well what the fuck do I do now?" asked the rabbit

"Change that shit!" shouted the others in unison.

Upstairs, Kioga and Lugo chuckled. "Amateurs," said Kioga to his husband.