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Tristan's Treasure Trove

By Zrathie

Hector opened his maw and accepted the warm mush this time. The porridge and apricot meal seemed enormous, but the machine soon fed him the meal over some minutes. Looking across the way, Tritan was served a new bowl and was reluctantly eating down his breakfast served by his own set of robot helpers.

Tristan had got him into this mess. The lion had claimed it was easy money, and he had cased the place for a week, and no one was coming or going. The break-in was easy enough. They climbed a tree near the perimeter wall and jumped inside the extensive grounds. Shit hit the fan when they gained entry through a conveniently unlocked door. The mansion turned out to be swarming with robot servants.

The machine took away the empty bowl, and another placed down another. It looked like Tristan and Hector were both having two bowls each. Finally, a third robot poured out orange juice into a glass. Hector's third glass of juice was challenging, but he allowed the machine to bring it to his muzzle. He drank down the fluid in-between spoonfuls of porridge.

The machines were contraptions of shiny chrome and had vague animal themes, but these were robots designed to look like robots. There were no attempts to affix faux fur and appear as biological creatures. There were two models they had seen. Speedy ones stood on two wheels, had arms that could carry trays of food and drink, and quickly moved about their business. Then the more beefy bipedal models, these butler bots, were large and heavy and had a firm grip. These were the ones that had pounced on Hector and Tristan. The eyes of the machines had a led panel that would display emotion and blink, but the mouths were fixed in a slight smile and had a grill for a speaker.

Hector finally had a chance to speak.

"This is your Treasure Trove? If these things keep feeding me, I'll look like the fat old dragon atop the hoard," he said.

The lion across from him spluttered as he still had a mouthful of food.

"They must think we are guests because why would they feed us?" he said.

Tristan's reasoning didn't convince Hector; why would the beefy bouncer-bots be hovering next to them after they had accosted them to the dining room? Something was up. Was this some type of punishment for intruders programmed into them?

The fox's thoughts were interrupted by the beefy butler bot lifting him out of the dining chair. The machine hefted him like he was just an oversized stuffed toy fox from a carnival. It used both of its arms placed under Hector's armpits. It plopped him down in a standing position before the butler bot half dragged him, half-carried him away.

The robot had a firm grip on his body as it moved him through the mansion. The bouncer-type robot led Hector into a private cinema room. There was a seating capacity for nine creatures with three rows of movie theatre-style seating. The fox was placed in the front row in a cinema chair prepared with leather belts. The butler bot put him into the seat and bucked his arms to the armrests and his legs to the legs of the chair; this forced them wide and vulnerable.

The machine soon left the room, and the lights dimmed. A movie began playing, but the fox wasn't interested in viewing the screen. Instead, he was enacting an escape plan. The bots had not searched them, and Hector had a pocket knife in a hidden pocket up his sleeve. He flexed and wiggled his bound wrist and began working the small folded blade out of its pouch and down towards his palm in a slow process.

The almost full bottle of orange juice he drank; had finally worked its way out of his stomach and into his system. As a consequence, he was beginning to need to wee. He now had a timeline if he wanted to get out of this with some of his dignity intact. He could feel his efforts with the knife were bearing fruit. He had got it halfway out of its pocket. He kept slowly moving it towards his palm pad.

Success! He could feel the pocket knife in his palm; he was just about to move it towards his fingers when a speedy server robot opened the side door. It was carrying an ice-filled tumbler of coke. Hector gripped the seat, pressed his hand paw down onto the folded knife, and hoped his escape plan wasn't compromised.

The bot offered him the straw, and Hector began to drink down the cola quickly, hoping the machine would leave when he finished the glass. Consequently, the fox's bladder reminded him of how bloated it was as he gulped down the soft drink. Thankfully for the fox, the robot quietly wheeled away after skulling the glass. Hector huffed in relief as the door closed behind it.

He quickly brought his pocket knife into his hand paw and pressed the release catch. The blade folded open, and Hector aimed the knife at his wrist, strapping with effort. He began to scratch and slowly cut through the leather strap. It took a while, but he didn't want to stab himself. Ultimately, the knife was just able to make progress, gradually sawing through the belt. Minutes passed as he worked the blade over and over again.

His bladder was throbbing as it became painfully full. He was stuck inside his suit as long as he was shackled. He whimpered as he made it halfway through. He tugged at the strap, making it creak but not snap. He had more sawing to do. He continued working with the dappled intermittent light cast from the movie screen, aiding his task. His slow work burned more time, but he could make it if he kept going.

He had finally cut enough of the strap to try breaking it. He tugged once, and then the belt made a pop sound. With the second yank, it snapped apart. He now had a choice, unbuckle his other hand paw or zip open his jumpsuit to pee. He chose to unzip his jumpsuit. He fought the zipper. As he pulled it down over his chest, it jammed, so Hector worked it back and forth until it ultimately zoomed past his belly. Finally, it swept over his crotch, where he grabbed hold of his sheath and aimed it out of his now unzipped jumpsuit.

His piss rocketed out in an arc, falling a metre away from his position. It was clear coloured from the overhydration. The heavy stream continued to pour out of his body. He gasped as he strived to empty his bladder. His piss soaked into the carpet, making a growing wet patch on the floor. Finally, with his base needs satisfied, it was a simple matter of unbuckling his other wrist and then his ankles.

He leapt out of the chair, glad he had gone commando today. The only thing that bought him the two seconds that made the difference between being dry or wet. He moved towards the other side door and popped out into a hallway. He could feel the fluid in his stomach slosh as he moved. He nearly lost his suit but quickly zipped himself back inside. He kept his pocket knife in his hand. It wasn't much of a weapon, but he felt safer facing the machines with something.

The fox moved with stealth, and his ears flicked at any sound. He had to duck behind furniture on more than one occasion to avoid being directed by the machines. Thankfully they were loud and clunky. Even the wheeled variants had a whiney electric motor noise that gave away their position. So he went upstairs to a more quiet area. Or so he thought. A door in the corridor opened outwards, and the fox saw nowhere to hide. So Hector decided to enter one of the rooms.

Hector ducked into a lavish bedroom the size of his whole apartment. He quickly looked for a hiding spot. He could hide under the bed, in the ensuite bathroom or inside a closet. In the end, the fox chose the closet, hopping inside and closing the door behind him. The empty closet must be used for guests staying at the lavish mansion. He looked out of the horizontal wooden slats into the bedroom. There were three knocks on the door.

"Hello, this is housekeeping; is any creature here?" said a robot.

Soon the bedroom opened, and Hector could see a barrel-shaped maid bot enter the room. It had two arms and a large storage case for a torso. It travelled on four wheels and looked like it had a vacuum head at its base. Hector held his breath in hiding, hoping the machine didn't have an as sensitive hearing as a real creature. The machine began its cleaning routine. It was spraying cleaning solution and then whipping it up; it was cleaning the hardwood side tables of the bedroom. Tension grew as he realised it could open his hiding spot anytime it wanted.

"This is an automated warning: I am deploying an aphrodisiac gas bomb to flush out our uninvited guests," said the machine.

The robot opened its chest cavity, took out a can about the size of a whipped cream bottle, and placed it on the table at the foot of the bed.

"This is a final warning: An aphrodisiac gas will discharge inside this room. It's formulated to be extra potent for males. If our uninvited guests can hear this message, please come out and surrender. The staff will not harm you," said the machine.

With a metallic click, The maid robot deployed the bomb. A hissing sound filled the bedroom. The robot moved onwards into the ensuite bathroom. Hector brought his hand paws over his nose and tried to clamp off his sense of smell the best he could. He could hear the hiss of aphrodisiac gas flood into the room. He could try and run for it, but the bathroom door was open, and the machine could detect him if he made a move. So Hector stayed put.

The fox couldn't block the sweet-smelling gas out with his desperate paws, and ultimately he huffed in the powerful drug. It was like some creature had flicked a switch in his head that controlled his arousal. He could feel blood race down to his loins, and his head began to turn to sexual thoughts. He resisted the urge to touch himself. Any sound could give away his hiding spot. It only took a minute or so before he could feel his erection pushing into the crotch of his jumpsuit.

He gripped his face as the drug made his body shiver and tremble. Hector's eyes opened wide as he saw the machine exit the bathroom. Hector could feel a drug-induced forced orgasm building up in his balls. He was cumming hand-paws-free at the worst possible time. His cock erupted into his jumpsuit; Hector could feel hot ropes of fox seed spewing forth. He watched the robot walk past his hiding spot as he muffled his cry; his orgasm must be silent, or the machine would catch him.

The maid bot wheeled itself out of the room, and the door clicked closed. Hector fumbled with the zipper of his jumpsuit before zipping it down. He was still hard, knot and all; despite just cumming he was still horny. Wet slopping sounds filled the space as he grabbed his cock and began pumping away. His first load had coated his vulpine sex with cum. There was none of the post-orgasm sensitivity; he was ready for round two.

He pumped away, feeling the slick seed seeping between his fingers and over his paw pads. The scent of his release was overpowering the love gas as he kept playing with himself. Hector could feel the next orgasm building, and within moments, he blew ropes of fox cream over the floor of his hiding place.

The fox seemed to be holding the same breath for several minutes. At least that's what it taught him. He couldn't hear the hiss coming from the bedroom but held off on leaving just yet. He was still hard, but he felt it was the usual post-orgasm knot, not a drug-induced one.

Hector moved out of the closet and into the ensuite bathroom. Once inside, he checked the damage in a large mirror hanging over a marble sink. The fox could see his cum-stained jumpsuit and his fox rocket standing out from between the loose garment. He took advantage of his current location to piss in the fancy porcelain toilet lifting the green marble seat in the process.

When he had finished pissing, his body reminded the fox of a new need. The two bowls of porridge he ate were doing their job of keeping him regular. He was feeling a need to shit. The hefty dose of fibre had filled him with a heft of soft, healthy stool loading out his lower intestines. He knew he should be escaping, but it might be prudent to void himself. In case he had to wait until darkness to make his escape.

He planted himself down on the seat, but just as he was about to do the deed, there was a crash outside. Hector leapt up and readjusted his jumpsuit before moving to the bathroom window. The sound came from down in the courtyard. Hector spotted Tristan, who was nude and had just slammed into a serving trolley, toppling it near one of the doors leading back inside the mansion.

Hector redressed in his cum splattered jumpsuit and readied his weapon. It wouldn't do much to the machines, but it made him feel better having his knife on him. He moved towards the stairs and took them down to the lower level. He ducked behind an oversized lounge chair as a serving bot wheeled past, and then he rushed to a door to the courtyard.

He went outside and found it empty. Instead of more machines, there was a beautiful garden with topiary plants and manicured flower beds in neat rows. He followed the path where he had seen Tristan running. He crept past the toppled cart and back into the mansion. The fox was in the main foyer with the glass entry doors in front of him offering a clear view--a clear view of the path down the driveway and to freedom. One of the doors was open, and at first, he thought Tristan might be outside, but a crash came from a side room.

Hector heard a commotion in the next room. Tristan was fighting with a bot from the sounds of it. He could use this distraction as a chance to escape. After all, it was Tristan's fault Hector was in this mess. Although the fox felt a prang of guilt, he didn't want to do the lion dirty. So he entered the room where he had last heard the lion.

Tristan was struggling with a butler bot. The robot had its back to Hector as it floundered with the lion. Hector sprang into action. He saw a rubber gasket covering one of the ball joints on the robot's shoulder. It seemed the most vulnerable place on the metal hulk. Hector stabbed his blade into the armpit of the robot. There was a crunch of metal on metal, and the small blade jammed the robot's arm. The knife wedged into the mechanism, and the fox could not tug it free.

Hector's action was enough for Tristan to break free from the machine. He kicked it over, and it lost balance, crashing to the floor. Hector rolled out of the way, barely missing the grasping claw of its good arm. Before they could reach the exit, the doors behind and in front of them opened and three butler bots piled into the room on each side. The six machines made short work of the resisting furs, and the fight went as well as when the butler bots had first captured them as they were quickly overwhelmed and subdued. The pair were separated, and Hector and the nude Tristan got dragged off through the separate doors.

The robots firmly gripped him as they carried the fox into a medical room. Two of them began to cut off his clothing with paramedic scissors until no stitch of fabric was left covering his body. Then, the robots transferred him to what looked like a dentist's chair. Four of the robots held him down. The machines were much more powerful than him, so he was left under their complete control. Yet another robot walked over and opened a nearby cabinet. Hector thrashed about at the sight of what the machine retrieved from the cupboard.

Hector's struggles were fruitless, and one of the machines brought over a thick plastic-backed adult diaper. The robot added some talc to his rear end before slipping the diaper around his waist. The fox's diaper got taped around his form with a few robot movements. Its snug padding pressed into his groin and rear.

The worst was yet to come. Hector watched as one of the machines took a bottle of Carnivore Helper and loaded a dose into a stainless steel medicine dose gun. The device was a pipe with a slightly curved nozzle. It had a small glass reservoir, hand pump, trigger, and handle. The robot had filled the reservoir and screwed it back into place. It pumped the dosing gun three times and began to approach Hector.

The fox had tightly closed his maw and had no intention of letting this machine dose him up with the specially formulated carnivore laxative. The other robots acted while his focus was on the dosing gun. A savage pinch of one of Hector's nipples made the fox cry. Simutaisouly, the robot holding the dosing gun moved in quickly. It inserted the dosing gun's tip down the back of his throat. The quick machine executed its action so fast that Hector didn't realise what had happened. The medicine hitting the back of his throat was his first warning. The robot pulled the device from Hector's maw just before he began to gag and wrench at the sudden force-feeding of the laxative. There was no way to bring it back up; he had gulped it down to clear his throat.

The machines then transferred Hector to a wheelchair. This wheelchair had straps for his arms, legs and middle. The machines made short work of binding him using the various belts and straps, securing the diapered vulpine. The fox got wheeled out of the room. They took an elevator up to a guest room similar to the one he had encountered, the maid bot. Trapped, Hector had no more aces up his sleeve. He waited in this room for an hour until a butler returned for him. Finally, he was wheeled around the mansion back to the dining room. The robots moved a dining chair and readied a place for him at the table.

Meanwhile, Tristan was wheeled inside the dining room from a different door. A servant bot announced it was time for dinner. The lion was helpless to stop the butler bot as it drove him towards the opposite end of the dining table. Hector was seated at the other end of the table. The robots had dressed the lion in a thick medical-style adult diaper too. Hector was relieved that he wasn't the only creature subject to the humiliation.

Tristan tugged at the strapping, keeping him bound in his wheelchair. He looked across the dinner table at the equally bound fox. Hector couldn't help but shiver.

"We have to get out of here soon. I'm busting to shit, and if those robots keep feeding me, I'll pop," pleaded the lion.

"Don't worry. We both escaped these glorified toasters before, and we will again," said Hector.

Well, that was another situation they shared. The fox didn't want to give away his need for the little fox's room. Hector was sure he would only just make it through dinner service without using his diaper. He was beginning to feel the laxative was working. Unfortunately, there wasn't much time to think of a play before the robots began to deliver dinner.

As it dawned on Hector that he might have to shit himself, his body reacted most shamefully. His tapered vulpine cock slid out of his heavy sheath into the crotch of his diaper. He could feel his maleness tenting out the front of his padding. He reasoned that it was a residual effect of the aphrodisiac.

The entree was steamed asparagus in a vinaigrette sauce. The server bot cut bite-sized portions of the meal and fed the fox with a fork. While the food was expertly cooked and tasted delicious, the fox was more concerned about what a full meal would do to his stuffed insides. It had been some time since the forced ingestion of laxative, and he could feel it irritating his intestines.

"Hey, I need to shit. Let me use a fucken toilet," Hector said.

Much to his surprise, the machine replied.

"You are allowed to visit the restroom after dinner," said the robotic server.

"Hey, I need to shit too!" added Tristan.

Soon, the robotic servants served them the main course. It was a heaping plate of pasta, double what Hector would generally eat. He was helpless to stop the robot from feeding him. Hector chewed each mouthful slowly, but it only drew out the feeding. The machine wasn't going to stop until the plate was clean. He was getting incredibly full over the next few minutes; eating made his bowel struggles more ominous. The substantial meal added to the pressure to void.

The laxative was beginning to make his vulpine bowels cramp up. His stomach was rumbling and gurgling. As a cramp rolled over his middle, he tried to rein in his lust, but he was getting hotter. His erection pressed into soft, welcoming padding, and he was sure it was wicking away his pre-cum.

Hector hoped for mercy but was soon disappointed as a server bot brought dessert out. Somehow it was his favourite dish, tiramisu, but he wasn't hungry. The unfeeling machine began to spoon-feed him the coffee-flavoured delight. As the machine fed him the tiramisu, he had only grown more and more turned on. Eventually, Hector quickly gulped down the last spoonful of tiramisu.

As the robot server left, Hector felt bloated, and the only way he could get any relief would be to open his bowels. He became frantic in his wheelchair, tugging and pulling at the unbreakable straps. But, the straps held, and his struggles only stimulated his throbbing cock, the only part of him excited by the turn of events. But, the worst was yet to come.

A robot chose this time to grab the handles of Hector's wheelchair and wheel him away from the table. Hector couldn't help but look down. His diapered crotch was bulging outwards in a rounded pyramid. Despite the padding, it was evident that he had an erection. The glossy plastic backing highlighted the fox's excitement. What made it worse was that his knot had popped out of his sheath just before the robot moved him from the table. As he looked up, he saw Tristan had followed his gaze from his crotch. The hot heat of shame flowed up to Hector's ears.

Then the unmistakable sounds of rapid bowel evaluation filtered across the room, but it wasn't coming from Hector. Instead, Tristan was shitting his diaper. The lion's head quickly lowered as his bowels erupted. The robot had stopped moving Hector and had walked around to stand beside him.

The door to the side of the dining room opened. Instead of a robot, a stoat was standing in the doorway--the stoat, dressed in a fancy suit tailored to the creature's body. The newcomer seemed to animate Tristan, who looked at the creature. Hector took a few moments to recognise that the stoat was the famous railway billionaire Frewrick von Hassburn. Hector had a sinking feeling he was screwed. Nevertheless, the stoat walked into the room with a dancer's grace.

"How are my uninvited guests doing this evening?" asked Mr Hassburn.

He spoke with perfect polished diction.

Hector was in dire need of the little foxes room and utterly ashamed to be wearing nothing but a diaper with a full-blow erection in it. He didn't voice any complaints, though.

"Alright, you got back at us for trying to rob the joint. Call the cops and take us in," said Tristan.

"Why would I do that? My associate hired you to try and steal from me. I have been watching both of your exploits, and now I have a job to offer."

"What job? What do you mean you want to offer us a job?" asked the lion.

"No, not both of you. The offer is for Hector," said Mr Hassburn.

Hector had been desperately clamping down on his tail star. The fox snapped out of his state when he heard his name. Mr Hassburn walked over to stand in front of Hector.

Hector's bowels chose this moment to slacken, and filth poured out into the seat of his diaper. He kept repeating he didn't like it, but his cock proved him a liar as it throbbed in the front of his diaper as he unloaded into the seat of it. Mr Hassburn let a slight smirk appear on his muzzle before switching back to an aloof formal expression.

"While I rely on machines for the day-to-day running of my residence. I still need a biological factor that mere machines don't have. You have proven yourself capable of thwarting my security robots' efforts to capture you. You would have been able to escape if you didn't go back for your colleague," explained Mr Hassburn.

Hector looked up at Mr Hassburn, daring to make eye contact after doing one of the most private things right next to him. Then his gaze wandered across at Tristan. The stoat was right. If he had not gone back for Tristan, he would have escaped. The real question was, would the lion have done the same for him. If Hector were honest with himself, he would have to say no.

"Hey, wait a minute! I'm in charge of this crew, and I get to be on the team if the fox is!" hollered Tristan.

Mr Hassburn clicked his claws together, and a new robot butler entered the room before wheeling the lion away. Tristan continued to yell expletives as the machines removed the lion from the room. The stoat turned back to Hector and rolled his eyes at the lion's antics.

"My time in business has taught me the hard lessons about reading creatures' intentions and trusting my gut instinct. You have worked together, but regrettably, that lion does not have your best interests at heart," said Mr Hassburn.

"I'm a criminal just like him in the end, so what the fuck do you see in me?" said Hector.

"I value a creature's skills more than their social class or background. Locks only stop honest creatures. What if you had a dishonest creature to help build them? Even criminals offer perspectives and ideas that law-abiding creatures would never consider. That is why I want you as head of security here at my property," said Mr Hassburn.

The stoat crouched forward before Hector could answer and cupped the padded tip of Hector's encased erection. He pressed down, rubbing across the plastic backing.

"You can keep these as part of your uniform if you'd like. I don't have a supply of diapers on hand just by accident," said Mr Hassburn.

Hector gulped before making his decision.