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The major league baseball season reached the halfway point by the time summer rolled around. The San Menerez Thunder were having a terrific season. At a record-high 58-23, the Thunder were the most feared team in the pacific division. Rookie shortstop Blake Dean entered the league with a staggering .301 batting average, 22 home runs and 47 RBIs. The young, 22-year-old brown bull was in great shape and loved to play the game. The pastime of baseball was not an obsession for Blake as much as a crutch that helped him deal with life outside of the sport.

While the rest of his teammates were relieved to reach the end of the 9th inning, Blake feared it. He didn't want to retreat to the locker room. He often sat on a bench beside his locker with his towel wrapped around his waist, waiting for everyone else to shower before he could. Teammates teased him about his shyness, but Blake wasn't shy at all. He didn't want anyone to know what he was hiding behind that towel. The brown, masculine bovine went to great lengths to keeping his distance from his teammates; that is, until they left the locker room. When he wasn't confined to close quarters, he was the life of the party -- and that baffled his teammates.

Blake refused to disclose to his teammates a secret that he managed to keep under wraps since the season began -- and the only person who knew about his personal vulnerability was the team's sympathetic head coach, Don Kaplan. Blake wore adult diapers.

The bovine had an unusually weak bladder, which made playing long games difficult. When he was young, he would wet the bed frequently, but his caring parents overlooked the issue because they were so proud of his athletic abilities; they ultimately dismissed his bedwetting as "growing pains," but once his bedwetting episodes became a thing of the past, he would have accidents in other ways and it became a full-time obligation to conceal his shortcomings. By the time he earned his college scholarship for baseball, Blake transitioned into diapers after failing to curtail his urinary incontinence. Not surprisingly, wearing diapers was liberating for Blake, who combatted his condition for as long as he could remember -- but he took a liking to diapers. No longer did he consider diapers a convenience. Diapers were a secret pleasure. The thrill of wearing them was more effective -- in giving the bovine energy -- than downing several cups of Gatorade during the game. In a strange way, diapers were like a performance enhancement. However, wearing during a game was risky. If any word of his strange habit were to become public scrutiny, his reputation would be completely tarnished -- and that was why he didn't want any of his loud-mouthed teammates to know.

After playing a successful home game in the evening, Blake spoke to reporters via press conference in his team's media room. The bovine looked confident in his white and blue team jacket and matching pants. However, the bull forgot to change his wet diaper before heading to the press conference. Once he sat down, he could hear a very faint squishing noise coming from his soggy, thick diaper. Naturally, he looked down at his crotch to check for any leaks. Fortunately, there weren't any -- and he was behind a table that obscured his crotch from the flashing cameras. The bovine took a deep breath and started to speak to the reporters in the room.

"I'm glad to be here," said a modest Blake to reporters. "We played a good game today even though our pitcher later in the game, Chris Webb, overextended his right arm on a pitch. We were concerned about that, but we're told by doctors that he needs to take a couple of games off. He's going on the DL, but you know, he pitched a damn good game -- and really, Webb motivated us to get on the field and keep his streak in-tact. The Johnsonville Tigers put up a good fight, but Mark, Carl and Brandon had that winning mentality. They kept pushing and pushing, and we won -- all thanks to them. I was just swing-and-miss for most of the game. I have to give credit to our offense for bailing me out -- so yeah, that's about it. Got any questions?"

While the reporters asked Blake questions about his performance, his teammates gathered by the door left of the bovine, watching them speak. Mark Ramirez, who played second base for the Thunder, hollared at Blake out of support. The white rat pumped his fist and the air and shouted, "Happy birthday, man!" to Blake when a reporter was in the middle of asking Blake a question. The media chuckled heartily at Mark's playful heckling. The bovine shook his head, turned to face Mark briefly and said to him, "I didn't want the media to know it's my birthday. Now, when I read the columns tomorrow, they're going to tell me that I'm now too old to play. I should get my retirement speech ready." Everyone in the room laughed. Blake pointed to Mark and added, "This rat is a funny guy. Watch out for him. He's the real star of the game today."

Blake leaned his head over to hear a reporter's question about the next game against the Charlotte Rebels. "What are your thoughts about the upcoming game in Charlotte. The Rebels are dominating the east and they're five games ahead in first place with a three-game winning streak. Do you have any ideas as far as how your team will break their momentum?" the reporter asked.

"You know, we just have to be positive," said Blake, who was feeling the urge to pee in the middle of his answer. "We'll be going up against a great team, and I think that we need to focus on hitting the ball. That's all there is to it. Focus on hitting deep into the corner pockets of the outfield." The star athlete started to wet his diaper little by little, but then he unexpectedly started to flood. He could feel his diaper leaking from the leg gathers and drip onto his pants. Blake looked down at his crotch for a moment and noticed that a dark spot was forming and began to expand rapidly. The bovine shifted his eyes from the reporters to his teammates. Blake quickly pointed to another reporter to ask his question while he tried to manage a potential crisis.

The bovine's urine seeped through his pants, slid down his chair and hit the floor with a subtle flood; the noise, he feared, would be picked up by the nearby microphones on the table in front of him. In a moment of panic, he could hear his heart beating quickly. All the noise in the room faded into the sound of his heart thumping wildly. He felt the secret -- that he kept for all these years -- was about to be revealed in the most humiliating way possible. He noticed that the media was looking at him with a bewildered, concerned look, wondering why the bull was acting strangely. It was a nightmare of gigantic proportions.

Fortunately for Blake, it was a nightmare that he could wake from.

Blake woke up from his sleep in a cold sweat. He found solace in knowing that it was all a dream. Though he had a similar press conference one day earlier, he didn't find himself in a humiliating situation that haunted him in his dreams. There was no incident. In actuality, he rarely had any close calls notwithstanding a few awkward moments in the locker room here and there. In the bedroom of his apartment, he woke to find that his diaper was indeed wet. He pushed the sheets off of his chest in order to check himself.

The bull's thick, diapered crotch slithered to the side while he sat up in bed. There were freshly made, bright yellow spots all over the front. The wetness indicator wasn't fully gone, meaning that he didn't completely soak his diaper. Blake felt warm on the inside of his diaper, which indicated that he recently wet his diaper -- and he didn't mind if he leaked onto the bed since that would be an easier situation to deal with. Compared to wetting himself at a press conference, he happily accepted his current situation. He noticed his bladder didn't fully empty; he continued to wet his diaper until he was completely empty. He watched his diaper sag and expand. The diaper's absorption core couldn't absorb any more liquid so everything was pushed down to the diaper's leg gathers. Blake took a deep sigh, pulled the covers over him and fell asleep.

Three hours later, Blake's alarm clock buzzed right at six in the morning. After hazily rolling out of bed, Blake wandered into the bathroom to take a shower. He passed his opened bag of adult diapers, which laid beside his bed. Once he entered the bathroom and closed the door, his cell phone vibrated on the end table next to his bed; on its front LED screen, the words, "New Text Message" appeared. The text message was from his teammate, Mark, who said he was coming over to Blake's apartment in 15 minutes.

The bull came out of the bathroom -- wearing only a white towel, which was wrapped around his waist -- when he heard a knock on his door. With water dripping from his muscular chestfur, Blake walked over to the door and asked, "Who's there?"

"Your free ride to practice," replied Mark. Dressed in a black tanktop and jeans, Mark had a backpack -- containing his uniform and accessories -- hanging on his right shoulder. He tapped his foot on the corridor floor impatiently while Blake unlocked a series of door locks.

"Alright, Mark, give me a second." Blake opened the door. Mark blazed into the apartment and sat down on a sofa nearby. He stretched his arms and yawned. "So nice of you to invite yourself in," said the bull sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah. Treat your cab driver nicely. You owe me, you know. So when is your car returning from shop?"

"Probably later today," replied Blake as he took out his gear from the closet and walked ito the bathroom. "Let me change real quick, and we'll be on our way."

"Hurry the fuck up, will you?" Mark shouted to Blake. "We're going to be late to morning practice -- and be damned if we don't make the flight to Charlotte." Mark smiled before crossing his legs and looking up at the ceiling.

"It's not going to take me that long to change. Give me a break here," said Blake as he closed the bathroom door.

"You know I'm just fucking with you, right? Relax." Mark stood up from the couch and walked around the apartment with his hands in his jean pockets. He whistled softly to himself while he looked around the apartment, checking out the furniture. After a short while, he decided to pull an easy prank on Blake. Mark's plan was to hide beside the bathroom door and scare the bull as he exited. The rat was in the mood for a little fun.

Mark sneaked into his teammate's bedroom and looked around. Blake didn't suspect a thing. Everything was going according to plan -- that is, until he discovered something on the floor that looked unusual. It was Blake's opened bag of diapers. Mark picked up the bag and looked inside. He pulled out a prefolded diaper and studied it. The rat found something that he was obviously not suppose to see, but it piqued his curiosity. He immediately drew the conclusion that his athletic colleague wore adult diapers -- and that would explain why he was concealing his waist when he changed clothes in the locker room. Everything fell into place.

The rat was captivated by the bag of diapers he discovered, and he continued to look at them -- including the instructions for changing on the bag -- when Blake stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed in his uniform. Then, Blake saw Mark, sitting on his bed, looking at diapers that he forgot to put back in the depths of his closet. The bull's heart skipped the beat. He dashed over to Mark, swiped the bag of diapers he was holding and threw them violently into the closet before slamming the door and sulking around the room.

"You didn't see a thing, you hear me?" said Blake, pointing at Mark, who shrugged and shook his head.

"It's okay, man. Don't worry about it." Mark tried to calm the bull down, but Blake was enraged and frightened. Of all the teammates who would discover his diapers, it would be the team prankster, who was infamous for teasing and humiliating his colleagues on every team he was on. Blake paced back and forth in the bedroom, cursing at himself and mumbling incoherently. "No, really. It's fine. It's all good. My lips are sealed."

"Bull-fucking-shit your lips are sealed. For all I know, you're going to babble about this to the team."

"I'm not going to lie to you, bro, but man, diapers? You wear diapers? It's not a joke, right?"

Blake rubbed his forehead and sat down on the bed next to Mark. Though he was fully clothed, he felt naked. Though he was clean from his shower, he felt dirty. He felt exposed, vulnerable and ashamed. The bull found some comfort in knowing that the discovery was made by Mark and not the rest of the world. At the same, of all the people who would find out -- beside his coach -- it was his teammate. "This is going to strain our relationship on the team now that he knows about this," Blake thought. "This is going to really, really suck." To soften the blow, the bull immediately admitted to his diaper-wearing.

"It's for medical purposes," said Blake in a subdued tone. "I tried medication, and my body rejected it. It's strange, yeah, I know, but this is the way it has to be for me... I -- uh, don't know." The bull shrugged and slapped his hands against his lap. "What am I suppose to do?"

The moment he realized that Blake was anguishing over his discovery, Mark felt terrible. In his mind, he compared the situation to a time -- a long time ago -- when he found his older sister's diary and read her entries. At the time, he was 14. She was 17. Mark and his sister were not on speaking terms around the time he found her diary. She had a different life than his, different friends and situations that didn't necessarily require sibling companionship to keep the family together. Both siblings were independent -- so it came to Mark's surprise that his sister confessed her out-of-character appreciation for her brother in her diary. "If I ever needed a shoulder to cry on, it would be his," she wrote about her brother. "I just don't want him to know that I need him. He would think I'm stupid or something if he knew how I felt."

By remembering that instance from his past, Mark transitioned into a subdued, sympathetic tone.

"I don't have an answer for that," Mark replied to Blake. "I'm potty-trained, you know, so I never thought about... wearing diapers, exactly. But I can understand why you don't want others to know. I wouldn't want other people to know if I was in your position. I'm sorry for going through your personal things, by the way."

Blake looked at the rat and nodded. "I don't blame you for acting like that because, yeah, well, it's strange. I am strange. This whole incident is strange. As long as you don't go to the dugout and say, 'Hey, this guy is wearing a diaper, can you believe it?' to the others, I'll be okay, whatever."

"Alright. I'm not going to say anything. We cool, then?"

"We cool. I'm just -- well, yeah. We're good."

#

Driving in his car to the stadium, Mark kept thinking about what happened earlier, but he didn't know why. All the rat knew was he liked the feeling of the diaper at his fingertips. There was an odd, magnetic attraction that Mark couldn't possibly rationalize. While he tried to fathom the events that transpired nearly a half-hour ago, Mark attempted to make some small talk with Blake, who sat in the passenger seat, quiet and lifeless. Blake looked at the road in front of him as he tried so desperately to not think about what happened earlier.

"You know, I'm thinking of the upsides to adults wearing diapers. It's kinda silly. I'm like, 'Why didn't I think of that? It's genius!" said Mark, chuckling to himself.

"I'm glad you find it funny," muttered Blake sarcastically.

"Okay, so... you know those videos on YouTube, right? The ones where they show someone getting hit in the nuts? If you're wearing a thick diaper and your friend is like, 'Dude, I'm going to hit you in the nuts with a baseball bat,' then you could take the hit and be, like, invincible. Unlike a jock, it's covering your entire waist and everything."

"Um, if someone is going to hit me in the balls with a baseball bat, I'm still going to feel it."

"But it's like protection in more ways than one. It's a fuckin' cock shield!"

"Wow, I can't believe you just said, 'cock shield.'" Blake cracked a smile, which is exactly what Mark wanted to see. The rat kept going.

"I'm sure you've already done this, but man, you could go to a bar, get fully wasted and not even think once about using the bathroom. It's like, 'I'm good, man. It feels warm in here all of a sudden, doesn't it?'"

Blake laughed. "I see you've been thinking about this for a while."

Though he was joking around with Blake, Mark imagined himself in diapers. Though he had to concentrate on the road, details were sketchy. He imagined sitting at the bar, wearing a black shirt, faded-blue jeans and a thick diaper underneath. He's too drunk to even care what's about to happen next. Liberated by intoxication, he wets his diaper profusely as if he was waiting many hours to relieve himself. He sits on the bar stool proudly, smiling at everyone because he knows that nobody else knows. He could feel his diaper swelling up and sagging. He couldn't stop wetting himself. "I'm a bad boy," said the narration of his imagination. "I'm a bad, smelly rat who wets his pants and likes it."

Mark managed to park in the stadium's parking garage. After he got out of the car, he quickly logged down at his crotch -- and sure enough, he was shamelessly erect. "I'll catch up with you, Blake. I'll see you in the locker room in a few minutes," he said while he firmly stood beside his car, waiting for his arousal to subside. He took a couple of deep breaths before whispering to himself, "Holy shit." Could he really be interested in wearing diapers? Mark knew he couldn't answer that question at that moment. He had to concentrate for practice. His new-found desires were so distracting, Mark felt like he was in a dream-like state; caught in the middle of reality and fantasy. It was all starting to come together -- and this deeply frightened Mark.

#

The teammates all gathered in the locker room for a quick roll call before heading out to the field. Everyone gathered in uniform to practice, including the coach, who talked about how important the next game against the Charlotte Rebels was going to be. Blake sat on the bench with his head down and ears focused on the coach's voice. The elderly roo coach paced back and forth as he spoke to the team. But each player was distracted for one reason or another. Blake sat across from Mark, and the bull could not take his eyes off of him. The rat tried to look around the room, pretending that a very anxious Blake was not looking at him.

"And it's very, very important to play the field and not look up too much because the Rebels don't hit home runs much. What they do is they gather up the RBIs by hitting sharp, solid doubles in the deep corner pockets of the outfield. We can't allow that, so Jacobson and Marshall, be on your guard. It's all about defense, and if we can close shop with the kind of defense that we've been playing for the past five games, we're going to win -- and you know it too," said the coach. "Is everyone on the same page?"

The team said, "Yeah," before leaping from their benches and heading out to the dugout for practice. Blake remained seated on the bench while the others jogged outside. Mark walked slower than everyone else while he looked back at the bull, who was approached by the coach. The rat decided to keep walking although he sympathized with his friend. He left the locker room and closed the door behind him. The rat pushed his hard cup up and repositioned it before walking out to the field.

The coach sat beside Blake and spoke to him. "Hey, are you all right there? You look beaten up."

"No, it's just that -- I just don't know how I can... no, it's nothing, Don."

"Come on, come on. Spit it out. Something's bothering you."

The coach knew that Blake had a disability that made him wear diapers -- and even though Blake was comfortable with the coach knowing this, he didn't like talking about it. It wasn't the proper subject matter to bring up to a coach of a professional baseball team.

The bull got up from the bench and smiled, pretending that everything was fine. "I had something on my mind, but the game is more important than that," said Blake. "Thanks for being willing to talk to me, though. I appreciate it."

Blake walked out of the locker room while hearing his diaper crinkle loudly. It was a hot day and the bull's perspiration added to his personal frustrations as he felt itchy around his diaper. It felt heavy, and after Mark discovered his bag of diapers, he felt like he was also carrying a very heavy burden with a great risk. The more people find out about his diaper-wearing habit, the likelihood of it becoming public knowledge increases, Blake figured. It was only a matter of time now before the news is broadcasted on Twitter, Facebook and the rest of the Internet. He was going to be laughed out of the league -- and that was his biggest fear.

Half an hour later, during practice, Blake decided to strike up a conversation with one of the team's pitchers, Chris Webb, who he was in good standing with the bull. The brown monkey stood with Blake on the pitcher's mound. Chris rubbed his small, black soul patch as he listened to Blake. The truth is that the bull desperately wanted to take his mind off of what happened earlier and his current circumstances. He hoped that talking to someone on his team would temporarily put his mind at ease.

"So you think we have a chance against the Rebels?" asked Blake.

"What? You're expecting me to say, 'No' and lower the morale of the team? Yes, of course man. We're on a roll!"

"We sure are."

"Something's up with you," said Chris. He tilted his head to the side and looked at the bovine with a raised eyebrow. "You're not your confident self today. What's up?"

Blake couldn't shake off his stigma. What made matters worse, he felt his bladder swelling up and his stomach grumbling: the two worst possible combinations one wearing diapers could experience in a public setting. It was too soon for him to go, Blake thought. He wanted to finish practice without having the urge to wet himself, but his goal became unrealistic for him to achieve. Recently, Blake wanted to eliminate his dependency on diapers during games, but he was growing frustrated by his physical limitations. He quickly looked at his toned, muscular arms and thought to himself, "How can a grown bull like me stay in diapers?"

"No, I'm feeling good going into this game. It's just stupid stuff that I'm preoccupied with. Nothing major."

"If you say so, man. Hope you can clear your head before the game. Don't sweat the small stuff." Chris unexpectedly slapped the bull's rear as a playful, supportive gesture, but the monkey felt a puffy thickness on the bull's rear that drew a quickly raised eyebrow. Blake took a step back to evade the pat, but it was too late. Not only was he anxious from earlier, but now he was panicking. He was touched where he least expected to be touched. Judging by the look of intrigue on Chris' face, Blake knew that his cover was likely blown again -- all in one day. He dashed off the field and waved to the coach, who he passed by when he reached the dugout. He told the coach that he needed to use the restroom, and the coach let him pass.

Drip after drip, the bull started to wet his diaper as he walked down a wide, well-lit corridor toward the locker room. Beside his footsteps, the only thing Blake could hear was the loud rustling of his diaper and the muffled sound of his piss flooding speedily inside it. He felt the diaper's leg gathers collapsing and sagging. His diaper couldn't absorb it all so fast. The excess piss -- that had yet to be absorbed -- coated his large, hairy balls. Despite the circumstances, it was a very satisfying feeling for Blake. With his bladder completely empty, the bovine wanted to rub himself and feel how wet he was. He wanted to jerk off once he finished wetting, but he felt that self-gratification would only intensify his diaper dependency.

Blake's emotions got the best of him. He was caught in a chaotic mix of feelings that forced him to neglect his physical needs. The bovine needed to mess, but he was preoccupied. All he knew was that he had to go and the locker room, which was about 30 feet away. He needed to collect himself and sort out the issues he was having. He was scared of others finding out about his diaper-wearing, but he was helplessly aroused by the very act. He needed to come up with answers, but his bodily functions were seemingly out of his control -- and to contemplate his future became an increasingly daunting task.

Swinging open the locker room doors, he could feel his body releasing everything he tried to despearately to keep inside. Though the restrooms adjacent to the locker area were a quick hop away for the bull, Blake knew that he wasn't going to make it. Naturally, he squatted down onto the floor and looked around sheepishly as his backside quickly expanded out and down. It was an impressive mess. He resisted the urge to use his diaper for several hours; he resorted to biting down on his lip and pacing back and forth during practice in order to suppress his natural urges -- but letting himself go in his diaper proved to be a rewarding experience. The bovine felt a glowing, sweaty rush of sexual adrenaline that needed to be immediately addressed.

He quickly waddled over to the restroom and the urinals. Despite the adrenaline rush, Blake managed to thoroughly pull down his pants, remove his sweat-soaked hard cup jockstrap, remove his boxer-briefs underwear -- stripping all of his undergarments, which hid a secret he kept from his teammates for the entire season of his rookie year. There he stood in his full, soiled diaper before a urinal with his legs spread out a little. The diaper sagged low; combined with gravity and the overall weight, it sunk slightly lower than his waistline. Combined with multiple, natural fragrances -- including his pent-up musk, his sweat and piss -- the restroom was covered in his dominating scent. The bovine pulled the front of his heavy diaper down a little to bring out his hardened dick, which ached for relief followed by his large, low-hanging balls.

With his monstrous shaft aimed right at the urinal, Blake furiously masturbated. As he jerked off, he salivated over the idea of having a full diaper, which was something he rarely accomplished in public. To his surprise, Blake enjoyed the idea of being around others as he was diapered. The voyeristic nature of his arousal was directly contradicted his fears -- and he couldn't coherently articulate that contradiction even if his life depended on it. Deep down, the bull actually enjoyed Mark coming across his diapers and he enjoyed Chris slapping his padded rump. Only when he broke down and addressed his sexual, feral urges did he realize that he derived enjoyment from the very same situations and consequences that he feared.

Ultimately, Blake felt his cock throbbing uncontrollably -- and he was ready to climax. All the anticipation has led to this moment. The bovine's impending climax was a clear indication that he was going to face a challenge that would put his sexuality and his career in the balance. Suddenly, his cock ejaculated two thick bursts of semen, which spilled down the urinal wall and onto the plastic mesh guard. Some of his seed was so potent, it was like an adhesive; it clinged onto the wall and didn't slide down. Blake left his mark, but that didn't phase him. He felt relieved -- not only physically, but emotionally. He accepted his personal circumstances without putting up much of a fight.

Blake looked down at his diaper and admired how wet and heavy it is while it slowly slid down his legs. Eventually, he undid the tapes, removed the velcro straps and left gravity to drop his diaper on the floor with a noticeable squishing noise. He stood in the bathroom, half-naked in a daze. He paused for a couple of seconds before collecting his undergarments and putting them back on without a diaper. He forgot to bring a spare diaper with him to practice, but that wasn't a concern to him. In his relaxed, afterglow state, Blake folded up his diaper and casually tossed it in a nearby trashbin before brushing himself off and walking out of the locker room. By the time he returned onto the field, the players were about to wrap up practice.

The coach clapped his hands to conclude practice and invited everyone to the dugout. Blake got a head start and was already sitting on the bench, smiling warmly at his team. Mark sat down with Blake and turned to him. The rat whispered in his ear, "Hey man, are you alright? I saw you leave practice in a hurry."

"Just needed to splash some water on my face, that's all," Blake replied. "Nothing, really. Don't worry about it."

Mark knew something was up. Within the course of only a few hours, Blake transformed from anxious and silent to friendly and radiant. Mark tried to figure out what happened, but it was pointless. It was clear that Blake wasn't going to talk about it.

After listening to the coach lecture the team about how important their next game was going to be, everyone headed to the showers and started to pack their belongings for their flight out of town. Blake was putting on a blue t-shirt and jeans when he heard someone shout from the restrooms, "Guys, I think someone left a dirty diaper in here. It smells like shit." The bovine's sexual euphoria was immediately shattered when he heard those words. The bull's heart skipped a beat, but he managed to remain calm. "Play it cool," he muttered to himself. "Play it cool."

Pretending like the diaper in the trash can wasn't his, Blake innocently wandered into the restroom and saw his teammates -- with towels wrapped around their waists -- looking down at the trash can. Players commented on the foul odor from the trash can, and they speculated on who was wearing diapers on the team. The team's catcher, Carl Hardy, broke out in laughter. The equine rubbed his forehead and looked at his teammates. He shouted, "I knew the coach was old, but I didn't know he was old enough to shit his pants."

Don had already left the locker room so he not readily available for teasing. Instead, Carl looked around the room and pointed at his teammates, asking, "Was it you? Or was it you? Or was it you?"

"No, no, no, definitely not me," said one teammate. "I'm potty-trained, I swear to God."

"That's fucking sick, dude," said another teammate, who held his nose and shook his head.

When Blake approached the crowd that gathered, Mark looked at the bovine and lowered his eyebrows out of suspicion. The bull shrugged at Mark, and then he offered a suggestion to the team. "Get that shit out of here. Get the janitor or something. Toss it out."

"Hey Blake," said Carl. "Who do you think is wearing diapers? What's your opinion?"

"Shit, I don't know, but maybe the person -- whoever tossed the diaper in there -- maybe they have an explanation, right?"

Chris looked at Blake and took a deep sigh. Like Mark, the monkey had a suspicion that Blake was involved in the incident. When he slapped the bull's backside earlier, he felt something soft and thick there. It was unusual. Normal underwear wouldn't have that sort of feel. Cloth definitely doesn't. The more Chris thought about it, the more intrigued he became. Unlike the others, Chris wasn't vocal about the unusual discovery. Rather, he was empathetic toward the person who tossed the diaper in the trash. It was obvious that nobody was confessing to the dirty deed, and the monkey started to believe that the culprit shouldn't. If the culprit was indeed Blake, it would explain his strange behavior, Chris thought.

"Alright, alright, so who's wearing diapers on our team?" Carl asked. "We need to know who we need to stay away from."

"I did it."

Everyone turned to face the one who admitted to disposing of the diaper. To Blake's complete surprise, it was Mark who spoke up. "Yeah, I mean, I wear diapers. So what? Are you going to hate me now? Go ahead, hate me. Suck my dick. I don't give a shit. If we're really a team, we should act like one and be more understanding of each other."

Blake's jaw dropped. One of his only friends on the team was taking the fall. The bull wanted to say something, but he couldn't form any words. He was in shock -- and so was Chris, who watched the bull from the corner of his eye, waiting for him to admit the truth. The monkey was more confused than ever. With the strange turn of events, Chris didn't feel comfortable enough to draw any conclusions.

Carl bit his lip. The equine backed away from his fiery tone. "But, but you are --"

"It's my personal business," Mark snapped. "If you want to take it up with me, you can do so at your own risk."

The team dispersed throughout the locker room and continued to get themselves ready to head out. Blake's heart was still beating. While he wanted to be grateful for what Mark did, the bull had a gnawing obligation to talk to him. He didn't know whether to thank him or to apologize -- or maybe even both. He was unsure. Meanwhile, Mark sat on a bench directly across from Blake with his bags packed. The rat looked down and sighed heavily. Blake approached Mark and sat with him.

Speaking in a low voice, Blake said, "I really don't know what to say. I --"

"You're welcome, Blake."

"You didn't have to say --"

"I said it. Look, people already know that I'm crazy. I have a reputation for being crazy. This wouldn't be out of character for me. Also, you have a brighter future in the leagues than I ever did -- and I don't want your inconvenience, I guess, to be something that people remember you by."

Blake rubbed his face and muzzle in exasperation. He figured that Mark wanted to make it up to him for what happened at his apartment earlier. However, Mark saw things differently.

The rat found it convenient to confess. Like he told Blake, admitting to wearing diapers was just one out of many testaments to his lengthy reputation of outlandish behavior. From screaming profanity at reporters to attending baseball games in his pajamas when he was on the disabled list, Mark's repetoire of crazy behavior was well-known in the league and the mainstream media. After a while, players shrugged off his antics as, "Oh, that's Mark. He does crazy shit." Additionally, confessing to wearing diapers also gave Mark the license to wear without admitting that he was sexually interested.

"I appreciate what you did," said Blake. "Thank you."

"Sure. So hey, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah."

--

Blake and Mark arrived back at the bull's apartment later that afternoon. Compared to earlier, Blake was much calmer and more animated. Mark appeared to be cynical and subdued, which Blake found to be strange. Mark showed no shame or embarrassment. In fact, the rat continued to joke with Blake about diapers. After witnessing the seemingly selfless act by Mark to admit to wearing diapers, Blake didn't want to get in the rat's way so he laughed with him and genuinely appreciated his company.

Blake's morale was replenished for the day. All he wanted to do was to head back to his apartment, take a warm shower, put on a fresh diaper and watch some television. When Mark followed him inside the apartment, however, plans changed -- and he wasn't exactly comfortable with walking around the house, diapered, with company.

The bovine turned on the lights in the living room and the kitchen. Mark sat down at the dining table and looked at his watch. It was five, and he wanted to drive back to his house. He had something he wanted to do first at Blake's before he could mull his evening plans.

"Hey Mark, I got some Coors and Heineken in the fridge. Take your pick," said a cheerful Blake.

"I'll take a Heineken."

Blake walked into the kitchen and took out a bottle of beer from the refridgerator. He walked over to the dining table and gave it to the rat before he headed into his bedroom. Mark took a swig of beer to quench his thirst. Refreshed, he sighed and put the bottle down before standing up from the table. "Can I ask you to do something for me since, you know, I stuck my neck out for you today?" Mark followed Blake into the bedroom.

Mark opened the bedroom door and walked in. Blake sat on the bed and he was undressing. Mark saw Blake when he was down to his underwear.

"Yeah, anything, Mark. Just name it."

The rat swallowed, cleared his throat and said, "I want you to diaper me."

Blake did a double take and looked up at Mark with his eyes wide open. "You want me to do what now?"

"I'll rephrase that. Can you put a diaper on me? If I'm going to admit to something I don't do, I want to at least look the part, you know what I'm saying?"

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I am serious. I want to freak out the team."

Blake shook his head. "No, no. You don't want to do that, man," the bull protested.

"They already know now. What do I have to lose?"

Skeptical of the rat's motives, Blake wandered over to his closet and took out his opened bag of diapers and placed them on the bed. "Okay, if you're not fucking with me, you better do what I say and take off your clothes," ordered Blake. "I'll show you how to do this once, and then I'm not going to show you again."

Mark did as he was told. He enthusiastically stripped off his clothes while Blake waited. Mark chuckled as he removed his clothes. Then he stood, in his tight, white briefs, hesitating to remove the last article of his clothing. Blake teased him and said, "You're going to hafta take that off too. Don't be shy. Come on."

Trying to not think about it, Mark pulled down his underwear and laid on the bed. He turned over onto his back, but he tried to look away from his erection. When Blake's eyes became fixated on the rat's hardened member, he put his hands over his muzzle and muttered, "Dear Lord. This can't be happening."

"I can explain this. I can --"

"You like this, don't you?" asked Blake, smiling helplessly. "So after all that has happened today, you get a hard-on from... okay, my head hurts." Though he was completely shocked at the rat's obvious display of affection of diapers, Blake stuck to the plan and brought out a fresh, pre-folded diaper.

"Look, I'll be honest with you. When I saw your bag of diapers earlier, I took one of them out and was feeling it. I was like, 'Damn, that's nice.' I thought about it, thought about it and then I was hooked. I realized that I wanted to wear one... just to see how it feels, you know?"

"Move your butt up, and I'll slip the back of the diaper underneath you."

"You understand, right? You feel the same way as I do, right? Oh! That's nice! Feels so soft."

"Well, yeah. I guess you can say that I feel the same way. I mean, it is a convenience. It's a great convenience when you have to go and --"

"Go on."

Blake went on to explain the benefits of wearing diapers as he folded the front of the diaper over the rat's crotch and adjusted the tapes on both sides. "You can use your diaper whenever and wherever you want. If the diaper is absorbent, you can go as much as you like as long as you change. This is weird describing this stuff to you, but... It feels so nice when you wet your diaper. You do it because you can and because you're bad, 'naughty,' whatever."

"It's nice, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah, especially when nobody else knows about it."

"So really, you hid the fact that you wore diapers from your time because you liked the secrecy, right?"

"You're asking me too many questions. I'm trying to put this diaper on you, and I want you to see what I'm doing so you can do it by yourself in the future."

"Alright, alright. Sorry."

Mark could barely contain his excitement. He was being diapered by a masculine, brown bull who towered over his body; enforcing his dominance. In the back of the rat's mind, Mark knew that he was in good hands. Blake admitted that he found wearing diapers to be stimulating -- so Mark wasn't alone with his newly acquired fetish. Now, the problem was that Mark was confused about his sexuality. He found himself naturally aroused over the experience including the aspect involving another male putting a diaper on him. He didn't know how to manage his confusion. The best the rat could muster is a conversation filled with stuttering and incomplete thoughts.

"I like the way it feels," said Mark as he rubbed his diapered crotch. The rat enjoyed the paper-sounding rustle of his diaper. "It's like being a baby all over again."

"I can't get over the fact that you're actually into diapers. It just blows my mind." Blake finished diapering Mark and scooted away from the rat.

"Well, I wanted to tell you earlier, but I, well... it's just that... uh..."

The situation couldn't get any stranger. Feeling like he had nothing left to lose, Blake told Mark, "You look kinda cute in a diaper, actually."

Mark swished his rat tail and grinned, revealing his two buck teeth. "You really think so, huh?" The rat yawned, stretched his arms out and curled his feet. "Nobody has called me 'cute' before, not even the chicks I've dated."

Casually rubbing his diapered crotch, Mark sighed happily. He slid his fingers down the diaper front before pushing the its thickness up against his toughened shaft. Once he felt the diaper encircle his privates, he let out a subdued moan. Blake smiled and sat down on the bed beside him. He looked at his teammate squinting his eyes and taking a deep breath. The bull thought he had Mark mumble, "I like this!" repeatedly, but he wasn't entirely sure. There was no mistaking the fact that Mark was thoroughly enjoying himself. Blake was comfortable watching the rat derive pleasure from his new, scented undergarment that was wrapped between his legs.

Blake's underwear was evidently tented in the front -- and he was starting to feel aroused again. Continuing to ride the sexual euphoria from earlier, Blake moved his hand and placed it squarely on top of the rat's groin. He skimmed his hands across the diaper while the rat's raging erection was expanding and throbbing. Due to the pressure administered by Blake on top of the diaper, the crinkling increased in volume. Mark was intoxicated with pleasure and seemingly endless nirvana. He enjoyed the big, strong bull rubbing him sensually where he was most vulnerable.

"You think you're going to make it home tonight? You seem kinda comfortable here," said Blake.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. I just need to... where's my clothes?"

"Over here on the dresser."

Mark rose from bed and hazily walked over to the bedroom dresser where he obtained his clothes. The rat's heart couldn't stop beating from all the excitement. He snapped out of his trance, but he realized that a lot of time had passed and he was getting hungry. He also needed to head back home so he could sleep early and catch the early flight to Charlotte the next day. Despite all the real-life circumstances and obligations that he faced, Mark felt that his diaper smoothed the rougher edges in his life -- and he wasn't going to let any inconvenient bathroom visits get in his way.

Once he was fully dressed, he thanked Blake for letting him indulge. "I'm really sorry that today turned out to be so weird."

"It's nothing. We all have our kinks, right?"

Blake walked Mark to the door. "Hey, I was wondering if you can bring some diapers with you on the flight. I'll order some online tonight for myself. We can split the bag, and I'll put it in my suitcase."

"I don't see a problem with that," said Blake without any hesitation of thought. "I'll give you the bag now and use some of the diapers I have in my drawer for the time being."

"Great. I'll be right back!"

--

Chris did some late-night shopping at a grocery store near his house. The monkey wandered through the aisles with his shopping cart while he thought about the incident in the locker room. He couldn't understand why he was still thinking about it -- and almost like he was subconciously driven to it, he ended up in the aisle featuring baby diapers and incontinence products. He looked around in both directions and so nobody else in the aisle. He pushed his shopping cart closer to where the adult diapers were stocked. He was able to make out the name and description of a bag of diapers, which seemed to be hanging off the shelf.

"Supreme Care" was the name of the diapers. There was an image of their brand diaper opened up. Aligned to the right of the diaper display were the words "Medium, 12 ct." followed by four water drop icons that were blue. Chris was able to figure out that the drops touted the level of absorbency. He took a step back from the diapers and looked around the aisle once again. There was nobody around. The paranoia couldn't be mitigated by the smooth, saxaphone jazz music that was playing from the speakers overhead. He didn't want to get caught looking at incontinence products. All it would take is someone to record a video of him in the aisle with their phone camera and it would be uploaded on a celebrity gossip site within only a few hours, Chris figured.

An elderly, female fox arrived at the checkout with an array of goods including a bag of "Supreme Care" diapers. The cashier rung up the diapers on the scanner and tossed them into a paper bag. When the cashier asked if she needed any help carrying out her groceries, she replied, "No, but thank you kindly for the offer." Carrying the bag from its handles, she walked out of the grocery store, through the automatic sliding doors and stepped outside. She made a sharp turn to the left and headed toward a nearby alleyway where Chris stood, leaning his back against the grocery store wall, waiting patiently for the goods. The monkey slipped her money for the diapers, thanked her with a quick bow, and he jogged over to his car in the grocery store parking lot. The fox shook her head and walked away, saying to herself, "Even at his age, the poor boy still isn't potty-trained. What a shame."

He arrived back home at his grand, white mansion overlooking the city. He pulled into the garage and used a remote control to close the garage door behind him. Once the door slammed shut, he got out of his car, set the car alarm and popped open the trunk to retrieve his groceries. He opened the door inside the garage, which led to the living room. There, he was greeted by his daughter, who ran into the living room in her pajamas, shouting, "Daddy! Daddy!" His wife, also a monkey, surfaced from the kitchen with her arms crossed. She tilted her head, stroked her curly, blonde hair and smiled at her husband, who looked disorganized and preoccupied.

"Just in home tonight to kiss Layla goodnight," said Chris' wife.

Chris kneeled down to hug his young daughter before picking her up and swinging her playfully in a circle. "I'm flying! Yeah! Yeah!" his daughter shouted and giggled.

"How's daddy's little girl tonight?" Chris asked his daughter, who suddenly covered her nose and wrinkled her face in disgust.

"You smell funny."

For a moment, Chris forgot that he was wearing a diaper underneath his pants. He managed to put one on -- albeit sloppily -- in a gas station restroom that was close to the house. He couldn't stop thinking about wearing one so he decided to pull into a gas station, open the trunk, take out the already opened bag of diapers and slip one on privately in the restroom. "This would put my mind at ease," he thought.

The monkey looked at himself in the cracked mirror, which was hanging loosely over the skin, as he stood with his diaper on. It was obvious that he already wet his diaper. The diaper had large spots of yellow on the front, but the darkest spots were prominently seen on the bottom where the two, narrow wetness indicator strips were barely visible. He rubbed himself there and groaned. Then he turned to his side while continuing to look at the mirror. The monkey bent his knees a little and pulled up his diaper before releasing a wide load into his seat. Calmly, he readjusted the tapes and whispered to himself, "That's better." He pulled his underwear and pants up while leaving his diaper on. He figured that he could change when he got home.

When he saw Blake's used diaper in the trash can, Chris came across a new mystery -- but the mystery was no longer a question of, "Who wore that diaper?" Chris wondered what it felt like to wear one. After all, wheoever was wearing it had managed to keep it a secret for most of the baseball season. He wanted to understand why it was such a secret. The intrigue haunted him, but now his intrigue was justified.

Several hours later, after the rest of the family fell asleep, Chris crawled out of bed and sneaked downstairs in his boxers. He walked over to the garage and used his car keys -- which he was holding -- to open the trunk. He took out his bag of diapers and headed to their vacant guest room. There, he hid the diapers in the room's closet and quietly closed the door. He managed to pack some additional diapers in his luggage, which he was going to bring with him for the trip to Charlotte the next morning.

--

Everyone gathered at the airport terminal the next day. Some people took the liberty to pack more accessories -- for their trip -- than usual. Blake, Mark and Chris were well-equipped with padding that wasn't exclusively worn for the baseball game. They were comfortable enough to wear diapers on the plane without too much concern. At one point, Mark joked to Blake, "Those airplane bathrooms are too tiny anyway."

The San Menerez Thunder boarded the plane at eight in the morning and they took off after 15 minutes. A few players on the team sat contently in their seats with their diapers acting as a soft, cloud-like cushion in between their rear ends and the seat.

Carl looked out the window while the plane was taking off. Like everyone else on board, he was nervous about the big game. The roudy. brown equine made some small conversation with some of the passengers as a distraction. For most of the flight, Carl spoke to Chris, who sat beside him.

"My blood is boilin' and fiery hot, man. I'm pumped up," Carl shouted in his southern accent. "I love rivalry games. It's like a fight to the death. Fuck yeah, Red Bull!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get yourself worked up. Take it easy," countered Chris, who calmly put his hand on Carl's shoulder. "You had a Red Bull this early in the morning? Dude, you're gonna crash hard later."

"Nah, it's all good. No, really. I have enough energy to fly this fuckin' plane. Sure, I don't know jack shit about flying a plane, but I can do it. I can fly for days, no foolin'."

Chris went through his pocket and took out his smart phone. He turned on the phone and looked at some pictures. There were a few photos of him with his family and his daughter. Carl looked over, smiled and said, "D'awwww," loud enough to irritate the monkey, whose patience was wearing thin by the minute.

"Can you sit still for a minute? Wait, wait a second. No, obviously you can't."

Carl shook uncontrollably as a result of drinking too much Red Bull. "Please... please help me."

After taking a deep breath, Carl leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He felt his hearbeat slowing down. He felt his energy drift, but he didn't resist it.

The equine needed the rest. He boarded the flight on the third day of unrest. For three days, he barely found any time to fall asleep. Once he did on the plane, he began to dream about a hiking trip he took with his college buddies two years ago.

During the off-season, Carl hiked through a forest surrounded by rolling green hills and mountains. Wearing a black t-shirt, blue lycra shorts and work boots, Carl hiked up a hill with a steep incline with his friends trailing behind. He reached the top of the hill and waved his arms in celebration only to lose his balance and almost fall backwards. Luckily, he regained his footing and sat down, looking at the gorgeous scenery around him. Panting heavily, his two friends walked up and sat alongside the horse, who appeared to be endlessly energetic.

"What I'd love to know this: how did your drunk ass manage to climb this hill without falling off?" one of his friends asked Carl.

"How should I know? I just did it. I went up, I climbed... and I... wow, I really did -- holy shit, I'm amazing!"

Carl let the wind caress his long muzzle. He sighed and scratched himself leisurely. Because he was intoxicated, he didn't have a care in the world. Only a couple of hours earlier, he was told by his agent that the San Menerez Thunder was interested in inking a multi-year deal with him for more money than he originally anticipated. He decided to take his friends along on an impromptu hike in the woods with his two best friends and celebrate by bringing some beer along to drink. He ended up drinking more than half of the 12-pack that he bought for his friends, but he managed to stumble his way around without getting into trouble -- and it was his friends that exasperatedly kept him out of harm's way.

The horse couldn't be happier. He didn't know what he wanted to do next except sit and watch the sun go down. His friends urged him to slide back down the hill and walk back to his minivan, but he was comfortable sitting and watching the sun go down behind the mountains. The alcohol helped him preserve his warm, pleasing body temperature, but he was happily ignorant of his body's urges. Carl had to pee, but he dismissed the urge. Instead, he focused on trying to stand after his friends pleaded with him to walk downhill.

"Okay, alright. Fine," Carl grunted. "We'll head back to the car."

Sliding down the incline as if he was on a playground slide, Carl squeeled in joy and he almost bowled over his friends, who were beginning to think twice about being his friend. Once he reached the foot of the hill, Carl stood up, brushed himself off and walked on a rocky trail. As he walked, he tried in vain to remember what he needed to do. Using his impeccable drunken logic, he thought that his obligation was probably not so important if it was easy for him to forget. By the time he realized that he needed to answer nature's call, it was too late.

By nightfall, everything seemed to be one large blur for Carl, who started to regret drinking so heavily earlier. Even though the path back to the car was straight for the most part, Carl saw things differently. The path had many sharp curves, and it was getting harder for him to walk. He saw his friends up ahead, who looked like fuzzy, moving objects in the distance. He could hear his footsteps as he stepped on countless leaves and twigs. But Carl felt peculiar. He felt his lycra shorts getting warmer. He was sweating profusely, but the additional warmth and wetness came quickly and unexpectedly. Something was wrong.

Carl looked down at his crotch. A dark spot formed on his lycra shorts and it was getting larger. He kept walking. He was wetting himself, but getting concerned over it was not a priority. In fact, he liked it. He could smell his musky piss more and more, and it was a very alluring scent. Eventually, he heard his piss slapping the ground as a continuous thud. He even stopped on the trail to rub his long, dripping-wet shaft. By the time he was done wetting himself, he was fully aroused. By the time he reached the minivan -- which was parked on vacant, remote campgrounds -- he was completely wet, and his friends couldn't be happier to see him in that condition. After Carl forced them to go on a very long, exhausting hike, they needed some comedy relief.

"Someone forgot to bring diapers along, right, Jacob?"

"Looks like it. What a baby. That's hilarious."

"Come on, open the door, assholes," cursed Chris.

"Uh oh, the baby's mad -- and someone has to change him. I'm not."

"What are you looking at me for? I'm not..."

Only Carl wasn't laughing. He opened the sliding door of the minivan and jumped in. The last thing he could remember that night was closing the door. Before he lost consciousness, the horse rubbed himself slowly in the backseat of the car. After a few minutes of rubbing himself, he went to sleep, only to wake up and find himself on the plane, sitting next to Chris. He woke up with his head on the monkey's shoulder, drooling. He quickly repositioned himself and sat upright while Chris looked at him, rolling his eyes.

"Are you done making an ass of yourself, Carl?" Chris asked.

"Uh, sorry. What?" Carl wiped the drool off his muzzle and looked at Chris.

"Look down."

A substantial puddle of piss gathered underneath the horse's seat. The horse apparently wet himself while he slept -- and in the process, he managed to get everyone to laugh and forget about the upcoming game for a few hours. Carl sunk into his seat and was completely embarrassed. Even Blake and Mark were having a laugh over the incident. The bull shouted from a few rows behind Carl, "Somebody needs a diaper. 'Hey guys, who put a diaper in here? Hey guys! Hey!'" Everyone laughed at the bull for mocking Carl, but the horse continued to sink lower and lower. Chris shook his head at Carl.

"You're behind the times, man. Maybe you should pad up," Chris whispered to Carl. "It might be a good idea."

Thinking that Chris was mocking him, he snapped at him. "I'm not going to take this shit from you too!"

Chris asked him to lower his voice. "No, no, no. Check this out." The monkey pulled his shirt up, revealing the elastic waistband of his diaper. Carl widened his eyes in shock.

"Wait, then who was --"

"No, the diaper in the trash wasn't mine, but believe it or not, you're in good company. When we get off this flight, let me see what I can do."

"You're not suggesting that... wait. I'm not a baby!" Carl protested. "You're seriously going to put a diaper on me? No way, I'm not doing that."

"Ah, well, I'm not forcing you to do anything. It's your choice. I'm just saying that, y'know, it's not a big deal. It's convenient, actually."

Not knowing how to respond to Chris, Carl lowered his head and thought about wearing diapers. Two years ago on that hiking trip, his friends jokingly talked about it, but even then, he found the idea to be interesting more than off-putting. By the time he started to seriously consider putting a diaper on, the plane landed in Charlotte and the team was about to leave their seats. "I have plenty of time to think about this on my way to the hotel," he thought, but he had another pressing issue to deal with. Just from thinking about diapers, he was erect, and it was hard for a horse like him to conceal his excitement.

Finally, the famed rivalry matchup between the San Menerez Thunder and the Charlotte Rebels was underway. Before the evening game started, the Thunder briefly talked about strategies and field formations -- and after everything was said and done, the passionate team came together unified against their rival. The unity was nothing short of inspirational. Interestingly enough, the team's determination to win was inspired by a very unusual source.

For most of the season, rookie shortstop Blake Dean was the only player on the team to wear diapers. For several games, the medical convenience and stimulation from wearing diapers was also a nightmare to keep secret. However, sharing his deepest, darkest secret with an understanding colleague -- second baseman Mark Ramirez -- helped the brown, handsome bovine regain his youthful confidence. He didn't realize -- until the night of the big game -- that his personal vulnerability would unleash a domino effect of curiosity and fascination from his teammates. Blake didn't know he shared the same diaper-wearing desire as his club.

Blake had no desire to change the course; not after he found out that Mark also liked wearing diapers. There was a certain amount of sexual yearning that Blake had, which kept his adrenaline levels comfortably high. The adrenaline mixed well with his desire to win the game. All signs pointed to a game that could possibly serve as the defining moment of the Thunder player's careers. It was a great opportunity for the team to reassert their legacy for millions of fans who were tuning in to watch the game unfold.

The hype was intense and the silence in the locker room demonstrated it. While Coach Don Kaplan delivered a fiery speech about the team needing to make the "perfect execution" with their offense while playing conservatively with their defense with "no tricks, no bullshit." In reality, the team required no pep talk. Their confidence was radiating with a glow of cockyness and enthusiasm, but some of the team were still more concerned about changing into their uniforms in the locker room. The true source of the team's emotional turbulence was something so trivial and yet, so revealing. Questions like, "Who's wearing diapers on the team?" was about to be answered.

Mark started to undress first. Blake watched him from a distance as he removed his shirt, then his pants. Not before long, the white rat was in his underwear. He wore tight, gray briefs, but under the bright ceiling lights, his diaper was showing through. The rat teased Blake by suggestively pulling his underwear down in the back, showing off his crinkling diaper. The crinkling noise got the attention of a few teammates including Chris, who looked over his shoulder and saw Mark's diaper exposed. While some of the team thought to themselves, "No, this isn't normal," they couldn't look away. They wanted to laugh, but they remained silent.

As a well-known prankster in the league, Mark was more than happy with being defined as a "freak." He thrived on the awkward situations, and he was also strongly aroused by the voyeuristic nature of it all. While most diaper-wearers don't want others to know about the highly absorbent undergarment wrapped around their waist, the rat found no problem showing it off to everyone in the locker room. He looked around, wiggled his eyebrows and grinned with his shiny buckteeth glistening in the light. Knowing that he was going to solidify his reputation by showing his diaper to his team, Mark felt he had nothing to lose from the experience.

Striving to break out of his shell and reveal his diaper, Blake was about to unzip his jeans before Chris cleared his throat and said to everyone in the room, "I think we all know what's going on here -- or maybe it's me that's figured everything out." The monkey pointed to Blake and Mark. "You guys started something -- and God only knows how you pulled it off -- but now, everyone's packing some protection. I ain't talking about jockstraps either. But dammit, guys, I like it." The monkey unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants. He let his pants and boxers ride down to his ankles to show everyone that Mark wasn't the only one wearing diapers.

"No fuckin' way," Blake exclaimed.

"Way," Chris replied as he fondled his diaper. "I'm not going to hide wearing diapers if most of the team is wearing them. Come on guys, drop your pants."

Carl felt threatened by the monkey's call to have everyone drop their pants. He felt it was distracting and it could dangerously tamper with the team's morale, causing it to be disrupted or damaged beyond repair. There was a risk that diapers was not a broadly shared interest within the team -- and participating in such a strange ritual would create a backlash. As the team started to remove their pants and underwear, the equine looked around and noticed that nobody was taking exception to what was happening. Carl started to recognize the enormous potential of revealing himself to the team. It could very well improve the team's chemistry, the horse thought. "It's like a secret brotherhood, a fraternity." Being a frat boy in college, Carl started to warm up to the idea of being a part of the "fratenity."

After dropping his pants, Carl sat down on a bench by his locker and chuckled at himself. "Yeah, guess you can say I'm padded 'n proud, baby!" Unlike those who previously revealed their diapers, Carl was aroused. His erection created the illusion that his diaper was thicker than the others. With a low-hanging, protruding bulge on his crotch, it was clear to everyone around him that he was enjoying the experience.

Seeing the horse's arousal played an integral role in Blake's psychological transformation from being paranoid about people knowing about his diapers to having everyone know about him and the secret that -- he now felt he was wasting his time preserving -- was once considered a threat to his livelihood. For a few moments, the bovine thought he was dreaming. After walking on eggshells around his teammates, he came to realize that the biggest secret in the locker room wasn't about him -- and thank God, he thought. Blake scanned the room one more time before taking a deep breath and tugging his pants down to his ankles. There he stood, showcasing his wet diaper. At that moment, his personal pain of keeping his secret a secret vanished into the air.

"The good news is that you can use these things," Blake joked while he prodded his diaper.

"Wait, you actually wet your diaper? Wow, that's kinda gross, actually." Mark egged the bovine on. "I wouldn't imagine why anyone would do that."

Blake fully embraced the absurdity of the situation, especially when everyone quickly transitioned into changing into their uniforms as if nothing happened. Nobody on the team pointed and laughed at the diapered players. Nobody really cared. The central focus of the team was to play a good game, and they were determined to do just that.

The Charlotte Rebels' AMCO Arena filled up all of its 48,500 seats. Another 3 million people were watching the game on television or listening to the live radio broadcast. The Thunder stepped out of the dugout, crinkling along as they jogged onto the field. The atmosphere was purely electric, and the Thunder's team spirit was completely renewed.

The first inning started before the cheering died down and the game was underway. The good news was that the team was able to minimize their nerves. The bad news was that all three of the starting lineup struck out due in part to the Rebels' star pitcher, who was known for his unpredictable curveballs and knuckleballs. Blake was the last to strike out. Frustrations on the team were mounting early, but there was hope when Chris delivered the same fate to the Rebels at the bottom of the inning. From the looks of things, it looked like it was going to be a low-scoring game, Blake hoped.

When the second inning approached, Blake watched his team hit a single, followed by double by Carl. The equine had a difficult time running from base to base in his diaper. He thought to himself, "How the hell do these guys do it?" He stood at second base and casually scratched at his crotch before repositioning his jock. He looked frustrated on the field, but he received a few laughs from his team in the dugout. Blake sat on the dugout bench and looked at the exasperated equine. He quickly turned to his team and said to them, "Aw, well, it'll grow on him. It'll take some time to getting use to... that, I guess."

Next up to bat was Mark, who got into position at home. The rat bent his legs a little and squatted down in front of the Rebels catcher, who caught a whiff of a strange odor all of a sudden. Mark had managed to mess his diaper while he was in batter's position. Without knowing this fact, the catcher started to accumulate contempt for the rat. If it wasn't the odor that bothered the catcher, it was Mark's pompous behavior on the field. From the point of view of the catcher, Mark's rear had a few protruding bulges in the back. The catcher was too concerned with the pitcher calling the plays to notice that there was anything foul, dangling in front of his nostrils.

On a 2-2 count, the Rebels pitched threw a fastball on the inside, but just before Mark could swing at the ball, the catcher lost his footing and stumbled to the side; in the process, failing to catch the ball. The ball slipped out of his glove like a bar of soap and it bounced away. One of the Thunder was able to score on that error by sliding into home and Carl dashed to third base to the best of his ability. The score was 1-0 with Thunder in the lead. The Thunder's turn to play offense was cut short when Mark hit a pop-up fly and it was caught by the catcher, who cursed at himself for falling victim to Mark's troublesome scent.

The game got serious around the bottom of the fifth inning when one the lead-off hitter for the Charlotte Rebels hit a two-run home run to make the score 2-1. Instead of getting nervous that they were down by one run in a low-scoring team, the Thunder became more motivated to win, but without some very soggy diapers. Despite the calamity from the ballgame, the Thunder had a strong, calming mechanism to help deal with everything.

Still, Blake couldn't believe that many members of his team were wearing diapers. "It can't be rationally justified," Blake thought, but he couldn't dismiss the euphoria he was experiencing. He felt like he was playing with a group of childhood friends who unconditionally trusted each other. He was no longer alone. The bull started to see the entire baseball field as a giant sandbox where his diapered friends came to play. Playtime was far more important than bathroom breaks -- and Blake felt silly thinking that. Diapers was no longer something he and the others needed to hide.

The score remained the same until the the ninth inning when Blake hit what appeared to be a double over the head of the Rebels' third baseman. Following his bullish instincts, the bull charged through the bases in a burst of excitement, happiness and confidence. He tucked his head down as he ran from home to first. Then he rammed his way -- with his sharp horns pointing down -- to second base. Harnessing an overwhelming amount of adrenaline, Blake made an agile dash to third to squeeze in a triple, a move that was praised by sports commentators. "Look at Dean go! He was as fast as lightning!" said one commentator watching the game. "Can you believe it? I think he burnt some rubber on that one!"

The Rebels were caught off-guard. With renewed energy, the Thunder kept rolling. Next up to bat was Carl, who felt the momentum riding on his shoulders. The Rebels pitcher noticed that the equine was grinning as he got into batting position. Carl adjusted his helmet and his gloves before clutching the bat handle. He was ready to go. There was one out and one was on third, ready to score. Carl looked out to the field, but he aimed to hit the ball into the stands and knock in a two-run home run, which would earn the team a greatly desired victory over their long-time rival.

Carl swung at the first pitch and missed: strike one. Trying to suppress his anxiety, the equine gripped the bat harder than before. He took a deep breath and kicked the dirt below him. Fans were making their opposition to the Thunder heard. The boos were getting louder, and the humid weather did nothing to soothe the horse's tension. Then, the house thought to himself, "What am I doing?" Hesitating to indulge in the convenience of wearing a diaper, Carl held his bladder for most of the game. He felt uneasy and insecure. The very same player who was known -- by his team -- for his cocky, energetic bravado became timid and concerned. Being a horse, he was concerned about springing a leak in his diaper. Leaking in front of thousands of attendees and millions of television viewers across the country would be disastrous for his career. "Man, I have to go," he concluded. "Come on, man. Pitch the fuckin' ball, already."

Approaching the plate at almost 85 miles per hour, the Rebels pitcher's fastball was like a blur -- and despite his better judgment, Carl swung his bat. Suddenly, he heard the bat make contact with the ball. Crack! The bat split in two, but the ball managed to fly over the middle of the field and graze the top of the center outfield wall. The center outfielder tried to climb the outfield wall to catch the ball, but the ball passed his glove only three inches above his glove. It was a shallow home run. Blake walked to home for the tie and Carl tacked on an additional run. The Thunder won 3-2.

It's precisely the game that the Thunder hoped for, but it was the openness amongst team members that instigated the paradigm shift of the game. While the Thunder played well prior to the big game, the new-found trust for each other strengthened their resolve, further increasing their future chances of success dramatically. No other team had this much rapport amongst its players; then again, no other team would find themselves in diapers. In celebration of the team's victory, everyone gathered in a small celebratory mosh while wetting themselves profusely.

"I am so... totally soaked right now," said Carl Hardy, who made the game-winning home run, as he sat in the locker room wearing nothing but a sweat-soaked, piss-covered diaper. The horse's diaper was in dire shape. There was no whiteness in sight, only yellow. The diaper was wet enough to display the outline of the horse's long member, which curled upright inside the diaper. In fact, some of Carl's foreskin could be seen from the outside. His diaper was already leaking for the leg gathers.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Chris asked Carl. Chris passed by Carl, but not before he placed his hand on the horse's shoulder. "Hey, I think you should change."

"Ah, yeah. I think you're right. I'm headin' to the showers."

In the wake of the Thunder's victory over the Rebels, the team headed to the showers and spent a little time in there. It was an opportunity for the team to let go of their anxiety and frustrations. The opportunity couldn't have come at a better time. Blake, Mark, Carl and Chris entered the showers with their wet, dirty diapers on. There was a large turnout of sweaty, almost nude, muscular beasts who were looking to be refreshed. Then hot water started to spray aggressively from all of the chrome shower heads. An opaque, thick fog of steam appeared.

In the shower, Blake leaned up against the wall and looked up as water splashed on his eyes and muzzle. The bull's dick was thoroughly stroked by Mark, who was on his knees. The rat put his muzzle up to the front of Blake's diaper and nosed it seductively, successfully capturing the bull's heavy musk in his nostrils. With his free arm, the rat jerked himself off in his diaper; getting harder by the second. Mark gave Blake's diaper a few licks as the bull discharged a plentiful amount of precum. The sexual experience for Blake was profound, and he could barely contain himself. His heart skipped a few beats when Mark pulled down Blake's diaperfront, exposing the bovine's enthusiastic, hung cock and low-hanging, hairy balls.

Face to face with Blake's cock, Mark unhesitantly opened his maw and took the bull's sweaty cock in. He sucked furiously and lovingly. Because of the fog of steam, Blake couldn't see what was happening to him, but he enjoyed it. Previously dismissed as just too strange to think about, Blake revisited some of his dirty thoughts; this time, he was able to articulate them.

"You're sucking my dick 'cause you like it when I'm dirty," Blake blurted. "Suck me harder, you fuckin' diapered faggot. You like it, don't you?"

Mark moaned in response. Earlier, the rat pushed himself on Blake. He could no longer afford to hold back his sexual desires. Without thinking of the ramifications, Blake accepted his teammate's advances out of appreciation for his friend's openness, his secrecy and willingness to surrender his body to the muscular bovine. Mark tossed aside the athlete machismo to lift the barrier of intimacy between him and the one who inadvertently exposed him to a very enjoyable fetish. In light of his discovery of the diaper fetish, Mark wanted to live more openly and honestly. The rat's sexual advances and submissive nature was a clear, compelling admission of bisexuality. Mark took a gamble by seeking intimacy from Blake -- and he was very lucky to find out that the "womanizer" bovine had a penchant for the body of a male.

The rat was told by the bull to "keep going," and the rat took more of Blake's cock in, and even managed to reach his balls for a kiss. Blake moved his hips back and forth slowly so the rat could take his time. He wasn't going anywhere. Mark looked straight ahead at the bull's hairy gut. He took Blake's cock out of his maw and started to lick the sides of his partner's think, veined shaft. He opened his maw again to take the bull's cock in, wrapping the long member around his tongue. While he was preoccupied with worshipping the bull's cock, Mark wet his already soaked diaper. Blake looked down and saw Mark helplessly wetting himself and leaking onto the tile floor. This excited the bull.

Blake's cock throbbed while he reached for the back of the rat's head, pushing Mark's maw closer to his body as he came. Mark felt a seemingly endless stream of cum gushing into his mouth. The rat took enough to choke on, but he happily swallowed the thick, sticky stream instaneously. Mark pulled away and wiped his maw. Blake thanked his partner by petting his head and helping him up.

Meanwhile, Carl and Chris were engaging in something less adventurous.

Chris changed the equine's diaper in the restroom adjacent to the showers. The two, wearing only diapers, stood up as Chris slowly removed Carl's diaper. As he meticulously unfastened the tapes, which barely held Carl's diaper together, Chris noted the horse's accomplishments.

"That was a great game tonight. You did really good," said Chris.

"Hell yeah, man! I was boss! I'm down for a few drinks at the hotel later. Interested?"

"Ha, well, if you're planning on drinking, I'd have to put an extra diaper on you -- and the one I'll put on you now is the last one I have here."

"You got a point. I soaked this baby up good, didn't I?"

"Oh, for sure. Go ahead and lean up against the stall wall -- and yeah, just move your body away from the toilet. Yeah, back up against... okay, good."

"This is kinda cool: doing this and nobody really caring. I'm thinkin', you know, that toilets just suck. Who needs 'em, right?"

"Big boys wear diapers too, apparently. Not just babies and old folks. Hold the diaper in place in the back, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you for changing the MVP," joked Carl.

"Don't mention it. I have a daughter at home so I'm a diaper-changing expert at the moment. Haven't changed an adult horse before, though. There's a first for everything, I guess."

"This new diaper is... a bit small for me, Chris."

"Maybe it's because -- oh, I don't know -- you have a boner."

Carl looked down at his diaper. Inside, he felt his lengthy member curving upward, embracing his waist. He required some relief, a different kind of relief that he didn't know -- under these circumstances -- how to satisfy. The equine's arousal reached an all-time high, and he was gleefully open to ideas. There was a torrent of sexual tension that boiled inside his loins. He felt his restraint quickly fading away while the monkey quietly stood beside him, looking puzzled.

"What are you going to do about that?" asked Chris. "If you're thinking... wait, why are you looking at me like that? I ain't foolin' around. I'm married."

"Whatever happens in Charlotte stays in Charlotte."

Chris took a small step away from Carl when he discovered his horny teammate's intentions. Carl pulled down his new, dry diaper and let his cock hang out. He sat on the toilet and coerced the monkey into taking off his wet diaper and sitting on his lap. Without saying anything, Chris shrugged and did as he was told except he took the liberty to sit, facing Carl. Guiding his cock into the monkey's tailhole, Carl planted his feet firmly on the ground and grunted as soon as his meaty cock went inside. Though he was in disbelief over what was happening to him, Chris was also horny -- and maybe the experience wouldn't be so bad after all, he thought.

The horse's cock took Chris by surprise. He felt a sharp jolt of pain once the equine penetrated him, but his suffering quickly transitioned to pleasure. Chris let out a series of moans while hopping up and down. Once he started a good rhythm, the monkey brandished a devilish grin.

"This... feels really... good, actually," Chris admitted.

"Keep going, yeah. Yeah, that's it. A little faster!"

Chris stroked his reddened, dangling cock as he rode on top of Carl. "Feels good... when you wet... your diaper, doesn't it?"

"Uh huh, yeah. Yeah, yeah!"

"I like... wet, bad boys... They make me... horn -- uh, alright. Alright, yeah. That's..."

"Almost there. Faster now, dammit!"

"I can't... hold it anymore, man. It's coming!" Chris closed his eyes and jerked his head back as he sprayed Carl's chestfur with his seed. That triggered Carl's climax. Shooting what felt like a gallon of cum inside Chris, Carl squinted his eyes and bit down on his lip. Chris could barely take all the pressure that was flushed into his prostate. Their climaxes were equally intense and extremely exhausting. The mutual appreciation for gratification was undeniable. As sexual tensions subsided, both males calmly resumed what they were doing before. Chris put Carl's new diaper back on him and readjusted the tapes. Carl continued panting and sweating generously.

"Hey Chris, what time is it? The press conference... it's soon," said Carl.

Chris looked at his watch and opened his eyes. "Aw shit, we have only about two minutes. Let's get going."

"Thanks for that, Chris. That... that was something else."

"Didn't know I had that in me."

The press conference started. The team coach, Don Kaplan, prepared a few remarks for the media. He sat behind a series of microphones and spoke to the reporters and flashing cameras in the crowd. "First and foremost, I just wanted to say, 'We did it!' The Rebels are a terrific team and they should be commended for giving us a great game and showing excellent sportsmanship out on the field. We were down earlier in the game and struggled a bit, but we came back and had a strong finish. Everyone played their part and contributed to the win. The Thunder deserves a hearty round of applause, come on!"

The media stood up and clapped as the San Menerez Thunder approached the coach and dumped an orange cooler of Gatorade on his head. Completely saturated, the coach continued his speech while his team stood beside him. "Today, this team really showed us the importance of unity, harmony amongst friends and brothers; solidarity with common interests and aspirations. It's amazing. 18 years ago, I played for the Thunder and we had a similar kind of camaraderie..."

"Similar, huh?" Blake whispered to Mark while they stood side by side.

"... But it was nothing like this. Looks like you guys have some questions, so I'm going to wrap up my remarks. We're looking forward to the next game and, you know, we're going to keep moving forward. Even if we're tired, wet, sweaty and feel the need to change -- and, okay, forget I said the last part. No, wait, I can rephrase that."

Carl and Chris looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"We're not going to change. We're staying the course. Now, questions? Yes, sir!" The coach pointed to a reporter.

"Can you talk about the rumor involving your team, engaging in the strange pre-game ritual of wearing adult diapers? Forgive me for bringing this peculiar topic up, but is there any validity to this rumor?" asked a reporter.

The coach leaned over the table, tilted his head and looked at the players standing quietly -- and nervously -- behind him. "No, but I give you credit for creativity. Alright, no more questions!" the coach declared. To everyone's relief, the rest of the press conference went on without any further hiccups. And once again, the San Menerez Thunder were on top of the world with no bathroom breaks required.