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They made their purchases and not only got a discount for wearing the proper outfits, but Peggy knocked another few percent off for Kioga performing as a Deputy Praetorian.

"Now hold on," he said, "I'm not making any more commitments. I would have made the same speech if I'd gotten ticked off back in Padridge."

"Just what an upstanding officer in Puerto Panuela would say," said Prae Barnyardt. The weasel had followed them to give some support.

"Officer," Kioga said, chuckling, "I'm sure you and I both know that I am a felon of scatalogical mishaps."

"I can tell you all about the recidivism!" said Ceylon, which made the cheetah gape and Melinda laugh.

"I think the good officers here have a word for that kind of behavior," Kioga said, his small mane rising in embarrassment, "'Don't!'"

Duke's van might or might not have been used to transport illicit substances, equipment, and weaponry across state lines to Colorado, Montana, and South Dakota. Kioga didn't know, and he didn't ask: all he knew was that he found a jar of white powder, a transponder hooked to a thick antenna, and three rounds of .308 while loading an immense stash of "self-hygiene," "sexual health," and "holistic lifestyle" goods into the back of it.

He thought it was funny that his boss probably knew about it, but then again the extraterrestrial probably looked upon them all like the owner of a nature preserve.

Kioga was the first to break the ice when they all got back into the van, because he saw them all resuming their previous postures of nonchalant relaxation, everyone looking out the window even though every single one of their bottom halves were bright with the white, black, or cub-print of unconcealed adult diapers.

"So yeah, sorry about the whole come-to-Jesus speech in there."

"The what?" asked Duke.

Ricky patted him on the shoulder. "Kioga said we should stop shitting on each other, because we're making a scat-factory of our souls."

"In real fucking words?" asked the deer, sighing, "That's from that Dark Houls game, isn't it?"

Ricky took a breath, then waved back at Mark when the rabbit started up. "Duke, if I say I like you, what do you think?"

"What, like my cock?"

Mort held Mark back. Ricky took another breath, looking like quite the white knight in his diaper and t-shirt, and spoke again. "Do you like yourself?"

Duke's knuckles tensed on the wheel, though he kept his driving steady. "Are you trying to get in my head?"

"Okay," said Ricky, holding his paws out in front of him. The mongoose looked up in the rear view mirror and Kioga nodded at him. "I'm not gonna molest your brain, or say that the things you're thinking right now are actually because of something else you never thought about. I trust you to be honest about yourself."

"This is already sounding like a therapy session."

"But here's the good part!" said Ricky, a rough approximation of newfound grace, "it all comes down to this. We've been beating each other up because we've been living in a shitty situation. So if everyone, for themself, works to improve themselves, maybe there'll be a little more love and a little less fighting and shitty lap-dances going around."

The deer shrugged. "All right; sounds good to me."

Ricky turned back to Kioga, grinning. "See, you didn't have to say all those fancy words."

Kioga's eyes flashed. "I like fancy words."

"All right, Liberace."

Kioga squinted. It was the same flavor of joke he'd thrown a tantrum against: that of disparaging someone for liking something. But at the same time, it was a glancing blow. Like a wink, like irony.

Ceylon squeezed Kioga's paw and the cheetah relaxed. Humor was just so complicated.

When they got back and initially piled out, it took half their crew to realize that they were all wandering around without pants, and therefore in direct violation of Pendrael's Stupid Laws.

"Shitshitshitshit," Ricky rattled off as his diaper reflected the brilliant sun like the mirror bowl of a death laser, "Don't want them out again. Blew our budget the way you blew a sphincter, Mark." He and the rest of them reentered the van in a frantic ingress of tangled limbs and loud crinkling.

"I was afraid someone besides the cops would see," said Mort, nursing on a pacifier, "but really I don't care."

"You mean for your own sake," said Kioga, wincing as a gut twinge turned into a hot, slick sensation flooding around his buttocks. "Oof."

"Anything wrong?" asked Ceylon, hearing the quiet intestinal blurt, then the muddy slush of a voiding.

"Just me," said the cheetah with a wink as he poured into the back of his diaper. The stink was brash, but fleeting. His muck crept against the back of his sac like a viscous wave.

Ricky nodded, admiring Kioga's languid pose as he relieved himself. "I'm thinking it's a kinda visual noise, you dig? Don't want to assault people's eyeballs with intense enjoyment. Anybody got our pants?"

"You need a change, big boy?" asked Beatrice, the rat's paw on the cheetah's shoulder. Kioga shook his head and she moved past him. "I got all our pants here, guys. And Mark, make sure you're wearing the right equipment next time, or you're gonna blow out the seat of your jeans. The fabric's wearing thin from the other times I had to scrub."

"And the bald spots on our lawn ain't from lack of water," commented Duke.

"So, Kioga and boyfriend, er, Ceylon," said Ricky. "I'm thinking of having a sane party tonight. Refreshments, beer, Caligula's Pizza, and Pagliacci's wings. Nothing too crazy. Just us, a couple movies, and no pants allowed inside. Outside we wear pants."

"But boss--" said Duke.

"'Don't,'" Ricky and Mark quoted.

"Man, I just like the wind on my legs," pouted the deer.

"We all do," said Ricky, "but we don't wanna make people uncomfortable. Remember how good comfort feels?"

"How late's the party going?" asked Kioga, and Ricky shrugged.

"I'm thinking until we fall asleep, which with all this comfy merch, might be on the floor with our thumbs in our mouths. So probably all night."

"That's a little babyish--" complained Mark, to which Ricky shrugged. "Eh. I'm sure we all look like babies when we sleep."

Shifting in his warm, slimy seat, Kioga felt another warmth against his arm. "Mmh. I think I've already got an all-night engagement."

Ricky grinned. "Nice," he said, then held out his fist. Kioga bumped it, then Ceylon cleared his throat, and bumped it. "Guess we owe it to you since we interrupted you the first time."

"Hey, thanks for getting me," said Mark, straightening his body in his seat so he could yank up his jeans. "Ugh, it feels normal if I'm covering it up."

"Well, since you're wearing the right equipment this time, why don't you really tell us how you feel?" asked Duke from the driver's seat.

"I think I fuckin' will," said Mark as he stepped out of the van. Resuming the same posture he had on the lawn those many precious hours before, the rabbit gritted his gold-plated teeth and pushed, producing a triumphant, trumpeting and squirting avalanche of scat into his diaper's seat. Ricky watched from the passenger-side mirror, and he couldn't help but grow a little tight in the front of his thick briefs as he watched the back of Mark's jeans stretch and subtly sag.

"Don't you feel better?" asked the mongoose, squeezing the raised white pyramid in his lap.

"I think we all do," Mark said with a dreamy smirk, wadding with a lightened mind and a heavier seat.

Ricky closed up the front of his pants with a grunt, then slipped out of the van himself. "All right, boys; we got a few more loads to drop off before we have too much fun."

"Oh!" said Mort, "You mind if I..."

"If you can let it go while carrying some boxes, be my guest. But let's move more than our jowls and our bowels, all right?"

Ceylon and Kioga had them help move their stuff first, so that when they were done helping the Knights of the Bro table the two could excuse themselves without too much of a fuss. Despite the modesty of his street clothes covering his onesie and padding, the gryphon waited until they got into the door to relax.

When his taloned feet hit the inside carpet, however, the floodgates opened and he leaned against Kioga. The two held tight to each other as he released his bladder in a glorious torrent of heat and moisture, and the cheetah opened his pants and slid them to his knees to give the diaper more room to swell. Whatever liquid he had consumed in the Carcer and Mercatio, it was all directed downward and out, and his cock poured through its cage into a soft, previously-dry pasture of absorbent cushioning.

Be it for carnal attraction or genuine affection, Kioga kissed Ceylon's cheek and then knelt before him, pushing his forehead against the body-hot onesie's crotch as it grew into a squishy globe nearly as wide as his head. The gryphon could just stand there as his diaper swelled around his anatomy and hung from his hips with increasing weight.

After what felt like minutes of constant, voluminous urination, soaking himself to the point he briefly felt wetness against the seams near his thighs, the gryphon and cheetah begun the ritual of intimacy. Wordless was much of their contact as Kioga, still kneeling, helped Ceylon out of the bottom half of his casual wear, but before he could rise to remove the gryphon's shirt his boyfriend knelt before him and pushed forward.

Feeling the heft of his big, saturated diaper as merely a counterweight and not a burden, the gryphon leaned into a more dominant, desirous role and lay Kioga down in front of him, where he quickly shuffled the pants off the cheetah but let them remain about his ankles as a sort of cloth manacles. The cheetah did not need to move, anyway.

Ceylon spread Kioga's knees and knelt down, kissing the crotch of the cheetah's onesie-covered, moist and soiled diaper before nuzzling each side of his head against it. The male feline's scent was sharp and heady, even through the tough protection. Only Kioga complained about being constantly wet, whereas Ceylon loved the subtle bulge that often occupied the front of the cheetah's trousers. Now in private, it was all his to consume and enjoy.

Kioga let a moan escape him as his legs were parted and his groin lovingly invaded. He felt brief pangs of embarrassment as the gryphon's face buried itself against a diaper whose back side was sticky with viscous muck, but that all vanished as the lynx-osprey's nuzzling and deep-pulling sniffs drove themselves against the stiffening front of the soiled garment, as well as the elastic seams where his testes and musky urine were more easily accessible. It was rather simultaneous, but both males let out lusty groans as they found the straps of their onesies popped by the other and their diapers fully revealed to be gorged upon.

"Oh, love," he whispered, his hips flexing to thrust his diaper against the gryphon's muzzle. Lust and hunger built in him, bursting in bright flashes as he caught occasional glimpses of Ceylon's own diaper, pendulous and fat, waggling between his thighs like a sopping, crinkly plastic slug.

It only took a tug against Ceylon's shoulder to make the gryphon turn around and back up, and then that glorious, delicious, drooping swollen bulge was hanging over Kioga's face. When Ceylon set his knees on either side of the cheetah's head, Kioga was surrounded in soaked, saturated gel and the two set about desperately, voraciously, passionately rubbing their faces against the other's fragrant and used bathroom receptacle.

Breaths came in humid, hot gasps, and both moved their hips as much as they did their faces so that they could bury and be buried in the other's essence, the pervading scent of their intimate fluids. Ceylon stretched his wings as his cage pulled on his sac, then pushed his face deeper against the gel-surrounded cock in Kioga's crotch.

Then one gasped for breath which caused the other to rise, and they took a small break before pushing their faces deeper down the other's pelvic cradle. Kioga's waste was just a scent of necessity for Ceylon, so the gryphon didn't have much trouble grinding his nose against the half-wet, half-soiled strap that ran between the cheetah's legs. Ceylon's diaper was a far-reaching plane of half-feline urine, and so Kioga's biggest trial was navigating across a seemingly endless and smooth expanse of musk.

"Okay," Ceylon said with a gasp, wondering whether it was sweat or urine that moistened his snout, "good appetizer."

There was a rush of too-much air when the gryphon dismounted Kioga's face, and the further disappointment was that it smelled like their clean apartment, not the gryphon's groin. "O-oh, sweet; what do I--"

"Put this on," Ceylon said, throwing their new straitjacket at the supine male. The cat-bird had supreme reflexes, even with his hindered lower half. The cheetah caught the garment, then stumbled as he tried to get up with his ankles still tied together by his pants. This resulted in giving Ceylon yet another gratuitous shot of Kioga's lumpy, diapered crotch, but the gryphon had not begun to sate himself at this buffet of enjoyment. In fact, he had to resist diving back in.

"Actually, put it on me," said the gryphon, yanking Kioga up. He helped the cheetah out of his pants, then his shirt, then his onesie, leaving him naked except for his protection and a pair of socks.

"On you?" the cheetah asked, helping Ceylon strip to his own diaper, "Are you sure you're not too sore back--"

"No, no; I still want to penetrate," said the gryphon, ducking into the jacket. "But like Argos said, maybe we can enjoy the increased focus if all I can move is my hips."

"It's, uh, a bit of a disaster area back there."

"You take a quick shower while I stew in my own juices and hormones."

Kioga smirked, looking back at his lover while waddling to the bathroom. "Sure it should be a quick shower? I could take a long, luxurious bath, completely naked, and you could watch me scrub my totally naked--"

"I would just jump in the tub; now strap me up and prepare our intimacy."

"Damn," the cheetah laughed, "you should nuzzle my private-pants more often."

"I would until my face is bald; now tie me up and get going!"

"Mmm, yes sir!"

As is the case with many intimate couples, being the subject of immense passion brings to full consciousness one's own being. Contingent upon the correctness of timing, this awareness can be very positive, and that was certainly the case as Kioga dreamily sashayed to the bathroom. Even his dirty diaper did not slow him down; he was quite happy that his partner embraced this part of him in graceful--and sometimes quite enthusiastic--stride.

Once inside, he stood in the shower stall and peeled the sticky garment off, shuffling any falling smudges off toward the drain. He didn't even need to tape it shut--the diaper's contents adhered it to itself--then set it aside and bathed with a light, electric spirit and an effortless erection protruding from his hips. Kioga cleaned himself with pride and anticipation, exaggerating the bends of his body as if posing for his one-man audience. Deep went his claws into the hair of his back end, scraping off the dirt of the day until it was as clean as his face and the smile upon it.

In a funny feedback loop, Kioga almost wished he could stay in this hot, steamy shower daydreaming about the boyfriend--and Padridge's industrial water heaters guaranteed that it could be so--but it was much wiser to transition to the next stage of glory instead of just thinking about it.

Despite himself, he snuck a paw behind his own back and shut the water off. The temperature had been Africa-hot for the African feline, and so half of his body evaporated dry while the other half received a quick toweling. It was these moments of nudity that Kioga loved most, when unburdened and free he could use his body for a most gratifying purpose.

His grin was just as persistent as his erection as he walked down the hallway in a cloud of steam, and diapered, tied-up, and seated Ceylon could not help but grin in return as his boyfriend came upon him and sat in his lap. Their kisses were at first yawning, open-mouth bites to each other, but once lips made contact they pressed against each other with a stiff insistence of their necks, chests, and hips.

The naked cheetah gyrated upon the gryphon's bare legs; neither cared much if Kioga would have an accident upon him because even the cleanup would be an act of intimacy.

"Okay," Ceylon said, breaking the kiss, "remove my diaper."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Kioga said, falling to his knees to first undo the crotch belt of the jacket, then the tapes of the garment underneath. He opened it and lowered its heavy strap between the gryphon's knees, revealing Ceylon's caged and stretched anatomy. The naked cheetah smiled, then knelt down to give the sheathed, moist, and musky organ a nuzzle. Perhaps on purpose, he nuzzled a bit low, dragging his clean chin across the plush bed of the gryphon's wet diaper.

"Ah," Ceylon said with a twitch, drawing his knees against the sides of Kioga's shoulders, "P-please help with that."

Obediently, Kioga sashayed to their diaper bag, then returned and unlocked the penile safe. Slowly came off the sleeve, and then carefully came off the ring about the sac: it was a bit more difficult now that Ceylon's member had grown to hover parallel over his open diaper.

"Ah, perfect," the gryphon sighed with relief, then twitched again as he felt warm, wet lips encircle the head of his cock. "E-even better."

Ceylon couldn't stroke the top of Kioga's head as the cheetah suckled on him; all the gryphon could do was lean back, spread his legs, and sit in his cushy, open diaper. His hips occasionally flexed with desire to thrust, but he slowly found it easier, and more pleasurable, to focus on the wetness and the heat of the mouth around his shaft.

Hissing sighs rushed between his teeth as his groin was bathed by silky muzzle walls and a spiny tongue which Kioga applied in reverse, pushing down along the engorged skin in the same direction of its feline hooks. It wasn't long before the gryphon was at full hardness and his organ pumped pre-seminal fluid out into the cheetah's muzzle. Further licks and suckles made his balls twitch and his hips buck, but Kioga kept a steady rhythm so that Ceylon could lay back and submerge himself in exuberant pleasure.

As Ceylon sank in pleasure, he rose. His body reverberated in electrified tidal waves; his fur became softer, his feathers lighter, his chest fluffier, and his groin: well, that was the lightning rod of all this. It soon became obvious that his cock and the mouth that encircled it, those hot, wet walls and writhing tongue, became one unit, one machine. Deep did he thrust his erect, trembling organ into the cheetah's gullet, and profuse was the response as the cheetah sucked and gulped upon him all the more harder.

These cycles spiraled upward, and the gryphon thought he could levitate by the reverie alone. His eyes fluttered and his toes clenched. The wet pips and slurps of Kioga's mouth teased Ceylon's ears, and his balls, already bathed in humid breath and drips of saliva, firmed beneath his completely enshrined cock.

A sudden, bright awareness of his whole shaft, and especially the crowned head, made Ceylon's moan turn into a gasp, and he flexed his arms within his bound straitjacket to futilely attempt to pat Kioga's head.

"H-hah, that was almost a launch..." the gryphon tittered.

Kioga, glowing and shower-fresh, albeit a soaked muzzle, grinned. "Honey, your pleasure is mine; I don't mind if--"

The gryphon sat up and blushed at the sight of the cheetah's face being half-shadowed by his pulsing, dripping cock. Ceylon watched in distinct detail as a bead of pre turned into a long crystal thread stretching down. Kioga's own shaft beamed in his lap, and the gryphon was indulgently glad that his arms were bound, and he couldn't touch his bright, delicious sexual agony.

"I want more," Ceylon blurted. "Let's ... can we?" he asked.

"Oh," Kioga grinned, standing up. He stroked Ceylon's naked thighs, admiring their twitching erections. "Sure; lay back down and I'll dive in--"

"No, you!" the gryphon interrupted. "Let's ... I wanna ..."

"Fuck me?"

"Yes and now! ... if it's not too much trouble."

The cheetah's eyes widened and he bit his lip, perhaps to prevent his grin from stretching behind his head. "Trouble, no. Hot and bothersome? Bismillah absolutely."

"Yes!" the gryphon crowed. He catapulted himself forward and Kioga caught him, a bit startled. On his taloned feet, Ceylon strode to the living room, then knelt down on the carpet. "Now come on!"

"Gonna cum on something, yessir," Kioga said, then got on his knees before Ceylon and lay his front down. The cheetah's buttocks, undersac, hanging cock, everything spread before him in a most sumptuous display. Kioga raised his tail as high as it could go, then grabbed the tip of it with his hand and put it in his mouth, pulling his undercarriage tight.

That ass, that anus. That winking, musky, soft, and sometimes hair trigger slit of his boyfriend lay before him with the succinct perfection of a punctuation mark. Glory was unto Ceylon, and all of it, and all for him, and oh, what a blessing. Yes, yes, and yes: this wasn't sex; this was victory.

He didn't have his arms, so instead Ceylon flapped his wings a few times as he fell face-first into Kioga's ass. His nose stubbed against Kioga's shower-fresh, firm and fluffy tailbase, and his nose--his nose first--drank in all the inalienable musk of his male feline counterpart. The scent alone; savory, earthy, deep, and spicy; brought him nostalgia, inspiration, and a hell of a lot of cock-drool, wiggling in strands that garnished his thighs.

With the greatest, and waning, restraint that Ceylon could muster--after all, his cock was out of the cage and they'd yet to unwrap the muzzle--the gryphon pressed his lips to Kioga's sphincter and kissed it. Flesh met flesh; warm, sensitive skin twitched against each other, and Ceylon remained in this romantic repose for a few seconds, counting each one. Kissing a part of Kioga was kissing Kioga as-whole, and the gryphon breathed musk and basked in bodily warmth, cheek-to-buttcheek. He felt Kioga's vibrations, felt his pulse, and smiled as he felt the cheetah's purr throughout his body.

"Heh," Kioga said between rumbles, "all yours; do what you will."

"Can I stay here?" Ceylon said, blushing as his tongue flicked Kioga's warm asshole.

"Until the next thunderstorm, sure," the cheetah relented.

"It's just so nice, I..." Ceylon said, but then his lips flicked across the soft pucker one too many times. He transitioned immediately into a kiss, and then a wet kiss, and then he wasn't licking his lips but Kioga's hole, and then the licks came firmer, deeper. The very sensation of Kioga's ring, of the surrounding structure and then the slit itself, was one of delight and of deep gratification; of expression and attainment.

Ceylon licked and licked, and Kioga's purrs were interjected by fragments of moans. The area became not only wet, but more responsive. The living organ that it was twitched and clenched against the gryphon's snout, and Ceylon responded back with an open mouth. His tongue ringed around Kioga's anus, feeling every tight crease, and then licked the whole thing again, pressing and pressing until the slit spread under him.

Then, revelation: Ceylon's tongue pushed into Kioga's ass and fell into a realm of pure silk and musk. Ceylon strained, as if moving closer would move him into his partner, and plunged his tongue as deep as it would go. Ah, there were miles of Kioga and the gryphon wished he could be inside them all. As it was, his jaw buzzed with strain, his chin drooled with spit, and his knees kept finding droplets of personal yearning as his cock bounced with every move.

These lavish, wondrous ministrations to his most sensitive, precious, and admittedly faulty area placed Kioga in a stratosphere of bliss, and tempting as it was to augment himself by stroking himself into reverie, the cheetah was more than satisfied, safe and secure, in his boyfriend's grasp. Kioga lay on their soft, fluffy area rug and let Ceylon take him and his body to mutual beauty. His groin glowed with sex, need, and satisfaction; cock wiggling between his legs and sac tight against his pelvis. Suffused was the whole area in glowing light, from the bottom of his tail and tingling anus to his stomach and bladder. It was all so warm, and then as a distant echo, he heard the familiar tinkle of a broken alarm bell.

"D-dearest," Kioga said with forethought and emergency, "I guess I'm still hydrated; I--"

Kioga's body did not wait for Kioga, and he realized that as he was speaking, he was also hearing and feeling the splatter of urine striking their lovely white rug.

"You're what?" Ceylon said, extricating himself from Kioga's buttocks with a muzzle matted in male cologne. "You're peeing; that's okay, we can--Oh fuck yes; you're peeing."

His sentence morphed into a growl of lust and his cock jumped with a jet of precum. Ceylon tried his best to balance as he knelt down, his thighs wiggling as his core flexed, and he stretched out his tongue as he got closer. The gryphon's nose touched Kioga's hot, rigid shaft, and his tongue went under the tip to catch the pouring stream.

Pee sprayed in the bowl of his tongue and shot up Ceylon's nostrils. The gryphon bent further to put his lips to the fountain, then realized in perilous retrospect that, in physics terms, he no longer had a stable equilibrium. He had not the tail of a squirrel, and wander as his mind might to unstable fixed points, he was quickly and conclusively reminded that gravity was a fundamental force and would not provide exceptions to erotic fantasy.

"Uhuuuaaah...!" Ceylon gasped and he fell sideways. The bottom half of his face crashed into the hot, acrid marsh of Kioga's pee puddle. The top half was directly under the cheetah's cock, and quickly flooded, the fur becoming drenched. Kioga's bladder was full and wasn't letting up--he couldn't let up--and Ceylon found himself in a decadent torrent.

"Oh, honey, sorry; I--"

"Stay right there! I got it, ack!" the gryphon said, his furred face pouring in piss. With the best of his shoulders and feet, Ceylon haphazardly moved, then went immediately deaf as his ear canal brimmed and then flooded. He moved again, and this golden aural goblet spilled over his face into the sopping carpet, and now he had to cough as the cheetah's continuous, endless stream poured straight down his throat.

His arms strapped and useless, the gryphon leaned up and put his lips directly around the sexual spigot. Urine flooded his muzzle and he gulped cup after cup, knowing that the capacity of his stomach would beat out that of his boyfriend's bladder, but goodness gracious could his partner flood a diaper... or himself and their carpet, in this case.

Seconds felt like minutes, but Ceylon maintained a steady rhythm and the flow of urine assumed an almost continuous course from Kioga to the gryphon's stomach. He certainly did not mind being buried in his boyfriend's groin, his mouth full of the cheetah's penis and piss. Eventually, Ceylon did break for air, turning his head to the side and getting rained on and blinded by the lovely golden liquid, then went back again to guzzle his partner's piss until he was all tapped out.

After about fifty seconds of his face soaking beneath a savory deluge and his belly filling up, the flow unfortunately did slow, and suffused with the warm, intimate glow of taking his boyfriend's marking, both inside and out, Ceylon settled back into the vast everglades of their swampy, saturated carpet. Kioga's penis languidly dripped urine onto Ceylon's lips, and the back of the gryphon's straitjacket greedily soaked up the lake he lay in.

For one delightful, elongated moment the gryphon lounged upon a plateau of arousal and reverie, his many passionate and sexual energies swirling and resting, suffusing themselves into his soul as he marinated in the essence, and broth, of his lover. Kioga's body hovered above him, bare chest and stomach gently heaving in and out, and of course that most potent and concentrated sign of intimacy, his cock, hung but inches from Ceylon's lips with a beautiful, clear bead of pee crowning the tip.

"Whoof..." Ceylon sighed with glee.

Kioga reached down and petted the wet head between his legs. Then he licked his fingers. "All done?"

"Nah, just getting ready," the gryphon purred, then hesitated to slip out from his current, wet nest. "Ah, but it's so good here..."

The cheetah chuckled. "I'll have more for you later."

"But this is nice," Ceylon whined.

"Well," Kioga said, coyly lowering his hips to brush his sac and shaft against the lynx-osprey's face. Ceylon nuzzled back in return, then the two had to extricate themselves as the gravity of lips and hips became dramatic. He did, of course, steal one more nuzzle from Kioga's dangling sex, then wobbled himself onto his side, and finally one knee under him.

"Oof," Kioga said, stopping himself from a cycle of thrusting and getting sucked. "How about you stay there, and I let my hips do some talking with your lovely self?"

"Nope!" Ceylon said with a burst of energy. The gryphon dragged himself out from under the cheetah with his legs and shoulder blades, arms of course delightfully trapped in now a pee-drenched bondage jacket.

"Yeah?" Kioga asked, grinning and blushing with his tail in his mouth. His hind end felt so cool and relaxed, and the knowledge that his own balls and shaft were on blatant display to Ceylon gave him profound glee. His erection heated his thighs, hanging in naked space.

"Just everything: I need this," Ceylon purred. Theoretically, he knew he could stare at his boyfriend's asshole all day, but in staring at it, the gryphon was issued a directive, an obligation, that he mate it until his hips had cheetah spots on them.

The gryphon walked on his knees, erection bobbing with every wobble, and gently he bade his boyfriend to lower his rear end until the head was properly aligned. The cheetah's undercarriage glowed with heat, and the room and Ceylon's jacket misted with humid musk. Ceylon carefully spit, and it landed right in the cup of Kioga's anus. Rubbing it around with the head of his cock, the gryphon quivered at the stroke of warm skin against skin. His balls wiggled between his legs, tight and pulsing, and so close to Kioga's own.

With a breath and a shiver that rocked him from the depth of his chest to the tip of his shaft, the gryphon pushed against the soft, clenched door of Kioga's rear, then sighed with lust, passion, and relief as he was granted entrance.

The cheetah tranquilly groaned as the gryphon's organ pushed into his body. Its warmth and hardness gave him every instinct to push back, but he stayed put, allowing himself to be filled. Ceylon's hips grew ever closer, and his cock filled more and more of his rectum. Kioga's asshole, by this point, begged to be stretched.

"Ah, love, gimme," Kioga groaned.

"All and more, all and more," Ceylon stuttered. Kioga's bowels were hot around him, a lip-biting oasis of silky walls clamping and clutching at him. The gryphon hugged himself tightly as the cheetah's luxurious hole took all of him in. Every inch, every nerve of Ceylon's cock buzzed and sparked with sensuous pleasure, and once he was hilted and enfolded in Kioga's ass, the gryphon took to deep, decadent strokes within the luscious, soft interior.

Millimeters felt like meters to Ceylon; he watched the cheetah's bright pink ring stretch and grasp his anatomy as he slowly pulled to the tip. He could see Kioga's sac and rigid shaft wiggle beneath him, and the ever-present scent of male cheetah piss enshrouded him in a cloud of pure, naked essence. The gryphon could not clutch his mate's exposed, plush rump cheeks: as all of his olfactory was bathed in urine, all of his sensation was either surrounded in a soaked, binding jacket, or in his shaft, surrounded in a wet, pulsing bowel.

Ceylon pushed back in and groaned as the sensations struck him anew. His cock glistened as it plunged back in with ease, and once fully in a double-rapture transfixed him: the cavern he thrust into was simultaneously endless, yet wrapped around him in the feeling of a million moist and moving walls.

"How are you doing, baby?" Kioga whispered. Ceylon softly hissed as he felt the cheetah's paw reach back and gently squeeze his sac. The gryphon's cock jolted in Kioga's ass.

"Perfection..." he crooned, then got to studious, thirsty, and gleeful work. Ceylon balanced as best he could, bound up in his arms, and Kioga left him free to his ministrations. The gryphon had one job--to mate, to thrust, to breed--and he took his claim on his partner's precious tunnel. Every thrust greeted him with renewed heat, tightness, and silky pleasure; and each one left its residue and accumulation. Thrust by thrust, a deep, electric anticipation built up in his balls. His cock trembled inside Kioga's bowels, leaking pre with every pump, wetting his length until it expanded across his groin and the cheetah's rear end.

Lay before him, and all around his delicate, rigid shaft, was a lavish, sensual oasis that took him all in, and yet could always beg for more. Ceylon's light, panting breaths lingered with Kioga's deep, satisfied purrs. His hips moved in cyclical fashion, and the tingles in his sac continued their upward spiral. Ceylon throbbed from the waist down, pushing his cock again and again into the cheetah's rump. Each spurt of pre carried with it more and more sexual electricity.

This was the place he had to be. Every part added to the last: he was soaked in his partner's piss, he was wrapped up tight in a straightjacket, he was naked from the waist down, he was balls-deep in his lover's ass; he just ... he just ...

He was reaching the point of no return. The mountain was breaking apart; the clouds were crackling with static. Every thrust into that tight, hot, wet tunnel was carrying him higher and higher beyond the peak! This was no longer a mission of massage and mating; this was a mission of attainment, of accomplishment, of ... of ...

Consummation.

"H-haah!" Ceylon whined, and he pushed his hips flush to Kioga's rear. He pushed his shaft as far as it would go. He lay his body over the back of his cheetah. He flexed his toes as his sac throbbed with finality: in his dizzying climax he erupted thick, sticky, flowing gushes of essence deep into his lover's body. Before one pulse ended another seemed to spurt over the top of it, flooding over his own cock and who knew how far inside Kioga.

The cheetah purred and moaned, blushing as warmth turned into fullness. He felt every throb of the gryphon's shaft as he came inside him, and as his pearly perfection rounded the first bend of his tunnel it only took a few strokes of his own cock before Kioga was spurting and splattering all over their piss-soaked carpet. His asshole pulsed against Ceylon's sex, which set the gryphon cross-eyed as coital bliss turned into zapping sensitivity.

"Aaaah!" Ceylon gasped. "Aaaah; Ah." The last sigh was one of relief and bliss.

They stayed, one standing and one laying, in suspended, sweaty, shimmering joy for a few moments thereafter. Their bodies, from the tips of their toes and tails to the crown of their heads, felt as if they were swimming through a sky-borne river sizzling with light and carbonated bubbles.

Then it all settled, like a silk sheet fresh out of the dryer, over them and denouement was bestowed upon them with the restoration of normal physical sensation, which included satisfying aches on the outside of Ceylon's buttocks and the front of his thighs: muscle groups that had been very busy. The surface of Kioga's glutes were dully numb from a most excellent repetitive blunt force, and of course his inside ring burned hot and wet.

This full wetness permeated from sweat sites all over their bodies, and the more intimate fluids of personal lubricant and a tailhole-puckering amount of semen coated the local area. This was not to mention, of course, the liter of urine Kioga had bestowed within and without his partner and their surroundings. Ceylon had himself injected a healthy cup of the sticky stuff into Kioga's bowels, which fortunately returned nothing but their walls' self-lubricant; there was scant scat if any. And while the gryphon was indeed proud to have his seed deep into his lover's body, there was a begrudging pride to having it dripping down the cheetah's posterior and sac, as well as his own spent and pulsing testes.

Ceylon leaned forward, arms still bound around him, and nuzzled as far up Kioga's back as he could manage, achieving the bushy, moist patch that started the Cheetah's small mane.

"I love you, darling," the gryphon said, his center of gravity delightfully pushing his hips firmly against Kioga's naked, warm rump.

"Ahh," the cheetah mewled, pinned between the carpet and the weight of his mate, "and I love you exquisitely."

This was their new position for the next few moments, with Ceylon successfully keeping his elbows from digging into Kioga's back, and the cheetah taking quiet, mental inventory of their voracious and transcendent physical ritual: really, it was the alchemy of turning hormones into Heaven's Dust.

Kioga was thrilled not only by the protection, purpose, contentment, and epiphany of their love; but immensely relieved that his own brain and body, sometimes aching, sometimes hungering, sometimes greedy; was relieved from all such Earthly woes by these mutual, physical acts: everything from cooking, bathing, diaper changes, to raw and frank sexual expression.

How could he want for more?

Though, admittedly, laundry detergent could be high on their list. He felt the nape of his neck grow moist as his pee-gryphon nuzzled him. His legs from the knees down, and the bottom part of his chest, was squished against an area rug that was more urine than it was fabric. Himself, his thighs were lightly spritzed in splatters, but around back, everything from the tailbase on down was thick and sticky with precum, natural lubricant, and ichor from his boyfriend's balls. "I should aim to be as relaxed as my excretory system," Kioga chuckled, then put his paws under him to push up. "Shower?"

"Mmm," Ceylon whined, pressed against Kioga's back, basking in the warmth and musk of their decadent coupling. "Can I stay here forever?"

The cheetah grinned, swirling with an erotic glow both submissive and giving. It was an absolute upgrade for what his nethers were full of: boyfriend and boyfriend juice. His canal felt like a jiggly water balloon inside his pelvis, and Ceylon was still fairly hard, bobbing about in his body. "If not in body, you always are in spirit, baby."

"We can learn to cook like this, right?" the gryphon asked, purring as he adjusted his hips. The sensitive electricity rewarded the head of his cock as it prodded Kioga's inner walls.

"If we take really small steps and you don't mind the, ehm, occasional pushback."

Ceylon nibbled Kioga's nape and thrust again. His mate's ass felt like a sticky toffee pudding. He chuckled with the sudden, bizarre scenario. "You can squat over a diaper, and proudly declare you are cleaning yourself out for me."

"Suddenly got a taste for the dom-life, eh?"

"I wanna see that ring stretch."

Kioga sighed, smiled, and reached back to pat the gryphon's leg. "Trust me, baby. First time I'm laying a long, sticky cable on the kitchen floor, your usual, natural instincts will tell you that perhaps, perhaps, we shouldn't be fetishizing feces. Though yes the, y'know, whole paradigm that we must shit means we can accept and put a positive spin on imperatives. And me with my handicap, so on and soforth..."

"I like kissing you when you're shitting yourself," Ceylon said, though maybe it was the horny talking. Or maybe it was 50/50. He embraced his partner and his faulty imperatives.

"Eh, I do appreciate it," said Kioga. "Not that I need to be pampered in reassurances, just Pampers."

"But I'd rather the pee go on me."

"You've made that very clear."

"Eee," Ceylon said in delight, nuzzling down into Kioga's shoulder blades until his cheek bone hit spine. The moment was indeed perfect, not even seeming bizarre to them as really it was them soundly and ... quite profusely ... expressing themselves to each other.

Ceylon then got a twinge, and this led to inspiration. For as swollen and full as the balloon in Kioga's rear sector was, there was another that had passively filled itself in secret.

"I can return the favor," the gryphon said, and Kioga quirked his ear. "Which favor, the diapers? The ... oh."

The cheetah did not see himself tingling and blushing as much as he did, but the idea filled his head with the same sort of flooding shock that his rear end would soon endure. With the ache of an area already well-exerted, Kioga twinged as he got hard again between his legs.

"With the same respect you give my unrelenting excretions, I shall not stop you."

Ceylon was already feeling his cock flare with the prelude of urine. "Eheh, not that I'd make it to the restroom anyway."

Kioga smirked and rolled his eyes. "Look, I know you continents can hold it for at least eight agonizing minutes while you make it to a toilet or a bu--" His eyes snapped open. Ceylon's body relaxed on top of him, and what started as a tingle in his canal soon grew to a continuous, warm trickle. "Well done," he said.

This was the final act of melting into his partner. Ceylon rested on Kioga's warm back, and his toes buzzed with intimate vulnerability as his bladder released and he poured himself into the cheetah's rear end. Piss flooded the cavern and gushed back against his sensitive skin, and he felt Kioga tremble and relax as he released, and continued to release.

"Ahh," sighed Kioga, feeling his lower half fill. Ascending sections of his passage lit up in sequence like a long hallway powering on, each one inspiring more and more pride as the cheetah took his partner's essence. Milliliters felt like gallons, minutes like hours, and this was acceptable.

Ceylon cleared his throat when Kioga groaned. He couldn't believe he was still peeing, and not a drop of it was coming out the other way. He hoped he wasn't stretching Kioga out too much, but then again the digestive tract was extremely long ...

"You okay?" the gryphon said, urine still pouring out of him.

"K-keep going," Kioga grunted. He had to take breaths lower down in his body; his abdomen was definitely stretching. "I don't want to be envious of your diaper."

"There's no better place I'd want to deposit my essence," Ceylon purred, and surprised himself when he took to licking, grooming, and preening the back of Kioga's head.

Kioga purred in response, an absolute deep and profound blush taking over him. He was full, and fuller still, with the gryphon's urine. And now he was being cleaned; it was a perfect circle of being owned and ownership.

But there was a serious amount of fluid flooding his lower half. Kioga knew that he had bigger enema bags, but still, his bowels were starting to twitch and pulse with the albeit unreliable instincts they had.

Ceylon's stream was trickling down, and his own feeling of relief was countered with the curious nervousness of how his partner had taken it. "Phew, I'm almost done," he said. "Doing okay?"

Kioga ran a paw under him and his eyes widened at how much his abdomen had relaxed: there was a proper bulge, like a halved watermelon, between his ribcage and his cock. "I'm thinking if it's a one-to-one ratio of love-to-fluid, I'm quite satisfied with you. Or, more kindly, you've quite satisfied me."

Ceylon straightened his back, bashfully but passionately looking at the physical connection between his hips and Kioga's ass. It was currently somewhat of a plug. "Well... thank you for letting me pee inside you."

"Only fair after you took a full golden shower," the cheetah responded, still drawn to the roundness and firmness of his own belly.

"So how do we..."

"You mean, how do I?" Kioga asked, reaching back to stritch Ceylon's leg. As glorious as the plug, and the wealth of fluid, was inside him, things were starting to request a return to normal. The bar was shutting down and the patrons needed to go. He was starting to get those gurgles and clenches deep down below.

"Could we, maybe, make it to the bath?" Ceylon asked. "Me still inside if I can, then see what we can do inside there?"

Kioga chuckled, but his cock agreed with the idea as it twitched and ached. "Let's go, yes."

The two slowly, very slowly, worked to get their feet beneath them. Kioga, pregnant with urine, had to do most of the work, since he still had his arms. He reached back and held Ceylon's hip, making sure it was flush with his rump, and they stood together. Ceylon leaned against Kioga's back for balance, but God Almighty were his thighs wobbly from their exertion.

Kioga wrapped his half-prehensile tail around Ceylon's waist and pushed up and back, helping them stand. Ceylon thought to use his wings for a boost, but the angle would be difficult to get precise and his wings were a bit moist from ... things.

His wings did, however, service as a decent if quite wet bracket to hold onto Kioga's shoulders. The two waddled with their tenuous grips on each other, able to reach their sanitation chamber losing only their residual droplets of urine and semen. Kioga was still carrying a full keg.

Now here, the two beheld themselves in the mirror and giggled. Kioga was naked and free with a boyfriend up his butt; Ceylon was all wrapped up with a wet, matted face.

"You want me to just use the toilet?" Kioga asked.

"Toilet's for quitters."

Kioga rolled his eyes and grinned. "Should I just squat over you, then?" A sharp tightness wracked the cheetah's abdomen and he sucked in a hissing breath. The bathroom tile tittered with a new, small puddle.

Ceylon's eyebrows rose. "Darling, we should really hurry. How about you just sit on the edge of the tub?"

The cheetah held his stomach. "Yeah, yeah that would be good," he grunted. "Go ahead and ... really, really slowly ... pull out."

Ceylon nuzzled the side of Kioga's head, and using his chest as a fulcrum, gently pulled his hips away. Every inch that had been pleasure going in, was now a ticking time bomb coming out. The cheetah's anus had the integrity of a dry-rotted balloon.

Ceylon felt the head at Kioga's ring. "Okay, ready?" he asked.

"Hold on," Kioga said. His abdomen felt like a cluster of nerves, pulsing and throbbing. Taking in a deep breath, he centered his energy on the weak seal. "Okay, go."

Ceylon's shaft slipped free, and they were not flooded with gryphon water.

"All good?" the gryphon asked as Kioga walked like a reanimated golem. Sincerely, he hoped he hadn't hurt him.

"Yep, yep, let me just..." said the cheetah, gingerly sitting back on the edge of their apartment's large, multi-person tub. Kioga looked earnestly up at his mate. Ceylon grinned, and quickly knelt before the cheetah and put his head in his chest. Kioga put his paw on his head.

"Just push, kitty," said Ceylon. "It'll be all right."

"Better than all... oof. Hoooooah..." Kioga attempted a sweet romantic comment, but urgency overtook him and he found his throat opening in a very similar type of groan to his anus. Out of his chest came a low, whale-like bellow and out of his lower half came a great deluge of bodily fluids.

He held on tight to Ceylon as his bowels gushed into the hard plastic tub; his cheeks ran hot and his ears rang with an echoing, thunderous cacophony of liquid spraying out of him which was punctuated with the occasional, guttural, and natural blurt of his internal organ. The gryphon cuddled tight to him, blushing himself with the knowledge of what that liquid primarily was, and lovingly reassured that what was happening now was great, anthroid relief.

"Hoo boy," Kioga groaned as his major deluge subsided. He knew there would be a few delinquent squirts finding their way down. Carefully, he sniffed the air, and found it to be bereft of the unfortunate other-waste. There was just a huge pool of pee behind him, assuredly accented with strings of semen.

It was the same semen of the male currently in his arms. That was pretty damn great.

The gryphon poked his head up. "All better?"

"Sad to see it gone," Kioga quipped, but then nuzzled his boyfriend's head. "Nah. It's perfect. Never thought I could feel so sublime. And I really mean that, love."

Kioga squirted.

"Eheh..." he said.

Ceylon nuzzled his stomach. "No, please; enjoy yourself."

"Feel I'm going to be here all night if I do that."

"I hope so, because I'll be here, too," he said, nuzzling again.

"But when we take a bath, we'll drain the tub first, ri-- hah!"

The cheetah clenched and his ass squirted again, this time ending with a little splat.

Ceylon put his chin against Kioga's lap, though one of his eyes was blocked by the cheetah's hard-on. The gryphon nibbled Kioga's stomach. "We can drown in each other's essence, but let's avoid the bacteria."

"Fair," Kioga said, then turned on the water. "Though as much as I enjoy my brief stints of au naturel, like a prisoner enjoys yard time, let me grab a swim diaper so I don't foul the waters."

"Can I get out of my jacket?"

Kioga was already stumbling to their linen closet, which was as stacked with towels as with disposable butt-towels. In reflexive, compassionate aid, Ceylon rushed to the closet with him and reached for the quickest option, a modest pull-up, and found his arms yanked back against his body.

"Oh dammit," said the gryphon, then lunged forward, ahead of Kioga's paw, and grabbed a brief with his teeth, then flung it with a head shake at the cheetah's face.

"Heh! Good distraction at least ... oh boy, hold on," said the cheetah, doubling over once as his tail stretched and he clenched to suppress another anal expulsion.

Quick as he could--and fighting that automatic response where a body believes it's in a position of relief--he yanked up an emergency pull-up and set his head against the wall as his posterior floodgates burst open with the many rude, muffled, sloppy wet sounds of yet another viscous liquid elimination.

"H-ohkay. Crisis averted; lemme get you out of that jacket."

The white medical garment, with its lacy elastic cumberbund, already hung as a bulbous wad between his legs. Its flimsy exterior, containing an adequate absorbent strip which did not work well for feces or semen, provided a blatant wobble as free as his testes.

"Then change you again?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Kioga, unbuckling the jacket and pulling it over the gryphon's head. His wings folded like twin umbrellas and then Ceylon was the naked one in the room.

"Y'like being naked?" asked Kioga.

"For sleeping, perhaps," said Ceylon, "but I suppose I prefer an outer shell, be it pajamas, street clothes, or more nursery-appropriate clothes, if I'm to lounge or be active."

"Ah, body panels on the chassis, got it," said Kioga, then paused. "But isn't the outer shell your skin and fur?"

"Don't!" laughed Ceylon, moving to their cleaning closet for the mop and a laundry bag. "For now, let's put it that anthroids have designed supplements: clothes and shoes, to augment our daily lives."

At this point, cleaning any of Kioga's messes was as rote as cleaning the dishes, and so they had bagged the carpet and cleaned the floor before any sort of annoyed tiredness could set in.

"Okie doke," Ceylon said with a smile, indulging himself with a full, greedy squeeze of Kioga's cum-swamped, diapered rump. This caused the cheetah to groan and try and pull away as sticky, musky fluids crawled into the many vertices of his loins. "Change and a bath."