A Tennis Match
This is a quick little story I wrote, almost entirely in one day. It's a sequel to my earlier story "A Game of Scrabble" and also ties into "The Prince and the Emperor" a little bit. I think it came out pretty cute, and I had fun writing it. I hope other people will enjoy it, too.
"... and that's the story of how the lion kingdom invaded and conquered the mouse kingdom, and that is why all mice remain so submissive so sissy-ish, deep down, even to this day!"
Tommy blushed and squirmed as he sat on the side of the couch opposite his friend Alexander, who had just finished telling him a story. The mouse was fidgeting and kneading the pillow that he was using to cover his lap, seeming to be rather perturbed by whatever he had just heard. He frowned and squeaked, "I don't," before he cleared his throat and tried again, his voice much lower this time, "I don't think that's true!"
The wolf was much calmer, as he lounged against his armrest, idly reaching up to press his glasses further up the bridge of his muzzle. "Well," he murmured, casually, "whether or not the story is literally true, it's certainly true in a metaphorical sense, at least. The message or theme of the piece is quite true, wouldn't you say?" He folded his paws across his chest and peered across the empty cushion in the middle of the couch, a tight-lipped smile on his face.
The mouse sputtered and shook his head, "W-what? No, of course not! That - I mean, that's just silly! Ridiculous, even! Mice aren't naturally submissive or sissy..." Alexander didn't answer directly, but the way he pointedly held the mouse's gaze made it clear that he disagreed. Tommy felt compelled to clarify, biting on his lower lip for a moment before he squeaked, "Okay! I guess that maybe I can be sort of subby and sissy-ish some of the time, but I'm not always like that! I mean, most of the time I'm big! And I'm manly, too! I play sports!" His voice cracked and squeaked again at the last word, but he pretended he didn't notice and just folded his arms across his chest, trying to look very sure of himself even while he blushed pinkly.
The wolf nodded his head in response, raising his eyebrows as if he was acting overly impressed by the mousie's claim. He smiled reassuringly and reached across the couch to squeeze Tommy's shoulder, "I'm sure you're very good at jacks and hop-scotch and double-dutch, little mouse, but those aren't exactly the manliest activities." Despite his best attempts to maintain a calm and collected expression, the lupine couldn't quite stop himself from smirking. He was enjoying the mouse's indignation at being teased this way far too much to not react to it at all. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then he had his serious face on again.
It was a brief enough moment that the mouse probably didn't even notice it, since he was still sputtering and shaking his head at the wolf's last comment, his jaw hanging open before he squeaked, "Hop-scotch? D-double-dutch?!" He was aware of the fact that his voice was getting higher and higher-pitched, but he couldn't do anything about it, even though it certainly undercut his argument about how much of a manly mouse he could be. "I don't - I don't play that sissy stuff! I mean a real sport! I play tennis!"
It took nearly all of Alexander's willpower to keep from breaking out into a giggling fit when he heard that claim. It may have been a slightly more legitimate claim to masculinity than hop-scotch, but tennis was pretty close to being the most effete and dainty sport that the mouse could have chosen. He was almost making this too easy. The wolf sat up a bit straighter. "Oh, tennis? Well, that can be very manly, yes. I always thought you kept up your girlish figure by taking ballet lessons, but I suppose tennis could work just as well." He raised a paw to rub his chin, looking thoughtful, "You must play pretty often, right?"
The mouse could see that the wolf was up to something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. The question seemed perfectly innocent, so he just nodded his head and answered, "Well, yeah, I try to play a couple times a week, if I can." He straightened his back against the couch cushion and stuck out his chin, feeling fairly confident that the conversation had turned his way. "I'm pretty good at it, actually!"
Apparently, this had been just the sort of comment that the wolf had been waiting to hear. His body language didn't change, but his triangular ears perked above his head and his nose twitched in a very predatory kind of way. "I'm sure you are," he muttered, coolly. "But I know that it's not enough for you to simply say that you're good at tennis. That's hardly sufficient proof of your big, tough, mannish qualities. Besides, you and I both know that a real man would not be satisfied until he could demonstrate that he was truly a man of action, don't you agree? Not to worry, Tommy, I'm going to go out of my way to help you out, here. I think it's time for us to make another bet."
The mention of a 'bet' caused Tommy's heart to jump into his throat. He immediately recalled how the last bet he had made with Alexander - which had been over a game of Scrabble - had ended up going for him. He was instantly wary of whatever the wolf was about to propose.
"I'm going to give you the chance to prove to me what a big, tough, manly mouse you can be. You can understand why I might have doubted you, since - for whatever reason - I only see a certain side of you. But I'll believe you, and I promise that I'll take back everything that I said about you in particular and mice in general about all of them being such little, sissy, whiny, squishy, subby babies, if..." He raised a finger to preemptively hold off any protests from the mouse, "If - and this should be easy for you - you can beat me in a game of tennis! That's all it will take. That will be enough to show me that you can be a big, tough, grown-up mousie when you want to be. Isn't that simple?"
As a matter of fact, it did seem pretty simple. Which meant that there must have been a catch. The mouse nodded his head, but he still wasn't letting his guard down. There must have been more to it than that. Sure enough, the wolf ever-so-casually raised his paw again, then tapped the side of his muzzle while he looked up towards the ceiling, apparently lost in thought. "Of course, since you play tennis so often and I - well, I never play tennis - it would hardly be much of an accomplishment for you to beat me in a regular game, would it? That wouldn't be very manly at all. In order to really prove that you're a big, tough, mouse-man, you'll need to give your much less-experienced opponent a bit of a handicap. Nothing major, just something to level the playing field, a little bit, so that - if you do win - your victory won't feel hollow. Doesn't that seem fair?"
Tommy narrowed his eyes slightly. His paw had drifted up to his muzzle and he was nibbling on the tip of his thumb. His brow was furrowed as he tried to figure out what the wolf's trick was, but it seemed like he was making a reasonable sort of offer. Maybe Alexander really thought that he could beat him at tennis! The mouse started to smile, and he relaxed a bit, sinking back into the couch again. "Well, yeah... I guess it does. Since I play so much more than you, it's only fair to do something to make it a little more even." He sat back up again, all of a sudden, and pointed a finger accusingly at the wolf, "Hey, wait a minute! What happens if you do win? What do I have to do? You never said!"
The wolf shrugged his shoulders, "Well, you won't have to do much of anything, really. If you win, I'll admit that you're right, and if I win, you have to admit that I'm right, that's all. There won't be anything else on the line."
It seemed to be too straightforward, but the mouse couldn't figure out a way that the wolf was going to trick him. He nodded his head and extended a paw to shake the wolf's hand, settling on the terms of the bet. Even if Alexander had something else up his sleeve, it could hardly matter, if that was all that they were betting for, in the end. The mouse and the wolf settled on playing at the nearby public park, and picked a time a few days later, when they would meet up to play their match.
When the day came for the pair to play, Tommy as brimming with confidence. He had played just the day before and had won easily against a bunny who was probably much better than Alexander was. He was feeling very big and tough and was sure that there was no way the wolf could show him up today. When he got to the small clubhouse that was attached to the courts, Alexander was already there, waiting for him. He had a pair of fairly large duffel bags with him, as well. The wolf warmly greeted the mouse and reached out a paw to rub the top of Tommy's head through the black baseball cap he was wearing.
"There you are, Tommy! Are you excited to play? I know I am. It's been a while for me, for sure, but I'll try my best. You don't have to go easy on me, just because I haven't played in a long time. Oh! That reminds me. We need to talk for just a second about the handicap. I was thinking about maybe something where I could hit into the doubles alleys, or you would need to win six points to win a game instead of four, but then I figured out the perfect way. It was so simple! The easiest way to make the game more even is just to change your outfit!"
The mouse, who had been going right along with the first few ideas that the wolf suggested, looked much more confused with the conclusion that Alexander had come to. "What?" he said, while the wolf bent down and unzipped one of the duffel bags. "Change my outfit? I ... I don't understand. How does that make it more even?" He looked down at the relatively simple t-shirt and gym shorts he was already wearing, "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" When Tommy looked up again, he saw that Alexander was holding a thick, puffy, white rectangle of rustling plastic in front of his face. He squeaked as he saw that diaper in the wolf's paw, a pink color showing through his gray cheekfur.
Alexander chuckled at the mouse's reaction and gently bumped the tip of his nose with the folded diaper in his paw. "This is what I mean, squeaker. The best way to make sure that things are closer to even is for you to wear something that you're not used to wearing when you play tennis - even though you're probably pretty used to wearing them other times, I would imagine. And besides, isn't that really the most definitive way to prove how much of a big, tough mouse you can be, by beating me at tennis while you're wearing something so babyish? Only the most masculine and confident sort of mouse could do something like that."
Tommy wasn't so sure, and he looked questioningly from the diaper to the wolf's face, then back over his shoulder to see if anyone else in the small clubhouse was looking their way. "Well," he fidgeted, "I guess that does kind of make sense. I mean, I just have to wear it under my shorts, right? That shouldn't be - I guess that shouldn't be too hard."
The wolf smiled and nodded, pressing the diaper against the mouse's chest with a soft *whump* while he wrapped an arm around Tommy's shoulder and began to walk him towards the bathroom. "Yes, that's right! It won't be a big deal at all. But just to make things more interesting, we'll replace one piece of your outfit for each game you lose to me, okay? I've brought plenty, so don't worry about that. And besides, you probably won't even lose one game to me, will you?" Tommy was so confused and flustered that he didn't even notice as Alexander reached into the bag and pulled out a double-thick diaper-stuffer before leading the mouse into the bathroom.
Tommy continued to sputter and whine softly, stammering to try to find some kind of explanation for why this wasn't going to work, but the smooth-talking wolf reassured him that everything would be fine. Meanwhile, he was helping the mousie to lay back on the floor of the restroom and wriggle out of his shorts and lift his rear so the wolf could slide the nighttime-thick diaper, along with the extra-absorbent insert, underneath his backside and apply a liberal dusting of talcum powder. Before Tommy even knew what was happening, he was getting his tennis shorts tugged back up over an incredibly puffy middle. The shorts had been a bit baggy before, but now the elastic material was stretched taut over the obvious diaper bulge that stuck out from his rear and his crotch and - of course - bulged between his thighs.
Alexander didn't seem to be at all bothered by the way that Tommy was forced to waddle as he led the mouse by the hand right out of the bathroom, out of the clubhouse, and onto the nearest tennis court. The mouse was slightly dazed by how quickly he found himself standing there with a racket in his hand, suddenly painfully aware of how blatant the bulge in his shorts was, and how obvious it would be to anyone who looked at him. Then he noticed the other people playing nearby and the people walking past the courts. They could all see him!
Tommy was blushing furiously and gripping his racket way too tightly when Alexander started gently knocking a few tennis balls towards him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and when he swung to hit the first few, he missed entirely. Alexander just laughed from the other side of the net. "I said you didn't have to go easy on me, mouse!" Tommy bit on his lower lip and nodded, before he heard what he thought was somebody snickering at him from the fence. He quickly tugged down on his shirt in back, but as he turned to look over his shoulder, it was just a fox couple talking. As far as he could tell, they hadn't been looking at him at all.
A few minutes later, the wolf called out, "Okay, Tommy, I think that's enough warm up for me. Thanks for putting up with me while I shake off the rust! Are you ready to get started?" The mouse had barely moved from his spot, since every step reminded him of how weird it felt to be out on a tennis court wearing a diaper under his shorts. He normally felt his most grown-up and in-control when he was playing tennis, but at the moment, the mere fact of wearing such an obvious diaper under his shorts was overwhelming any attempts he could make to grab onto a sense of adulthood, and that was definitely throwing off his tennis game. Still, he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he just squeaked that he was ready back at the wolf.
Alexander really was not a particularly good tennis player, he had been right about that. Under normal circumstances, Tommy would have beaten him handily. But he was good enough to keep the ball in play, and that was all that he tried to do against the mouse. As if the mental difficulties of dealing with trying to play tennis in a diaper weren't enough, it turned out that running with such a thick layer of padding between his legs actually presented enough of a challenge by itself. The mouse's muscle memory, finely-tuned from many, many hours running around a tennis court, was trying to move one way, but his clothing limited him to a wobbly, awkward gait that was not at all suited for this kind of activity.
While Tommy struggled to adjust to these new restrictions on his movement, the wolf couldn't help but grin at the way the mouse waddled and stumbled and struggled to catch his balance, spending a fair bit of time nearly toppling over and sticking his puffy butt out in the process. The wolf thought it was all pretty adorable. It was also enough to throw Tommy off enough for Alexander to easily win the first game. He then came up to the net and motioned for the mouse to waddle up and meet him there.
"Oh, I see - you're lulling me into a false sense of security, huh? Well, I'm onto you, mister shark-mouse! I won't let my guard down just because you're being nice to me to start things off. Okay, come on, let's get you into the second piece of your new outfit." Tommy whined at the prospect of what the wolf was going to inflict on him now, but it turned out to actually be pretty mild. Alexander popped the black baseball hat off the mouse's head and replaced it with a pink and white visor that he had pulled out of the bag. It was a little bit embarrassing, sure, but certainly not as much as the diaper underneath his shorts. The pink glare in his eyes might be a little bit distracting, but that wasn't too bad. Alexander patted the mouse on his head and then the pair retreated back to opposite ends of the court for the second game.
As the second game progressed, Tommy started to make little adjustments. It was definitely a slow process, but he was figuring out how to waddle his way across the tennis court well enough to get to the balls Alexander was hitting and get them back into play. It looked like Tommy was actually going to win the game until the wolf smiled and waved over the mouse's shoulder in between points. Tommy turned to look and saw that the fox couple was actually watching him play. He had kind of forgotten that people could see him in his condition, and that reminder was enough to make him wobble and lose that game, too.
He walked back up to the net, bashfully tugging his shirt down over his seat the best he could, while the wolf joined him and plucked the mouse's trusty tennis racket from his paw. "You lost that one, too! Here's the next addition to your outfit, squeaker." He reached into the duffel bag and retrieved a child-sized, pink-framed racket with rainbow-colored strings and a picture of a unicorn wrapped around the handle. Tommy blinked as he looked down at what how juvenile and girlish the racket was. He didn't even though that they made them that sissyish! Alexander just smiled and patted his shoulder, "Don't worry! I'm sure you'll show me what a big, tough, masculine boy you are any time, now!"
The switch to the mouse's racket had an even more devastating effect on his game than the change in his underwear. The weight and the size of this girl's frame were all different, and they were totally throwing off his mechanics. That combined with how silly he felt waddling around the court with a pink, rainbow racket in his paws was enough to make him lose the third game easily, but he still put in a lot of effort. He was panting and thirsty by the time he came up to the net, down by three games to none. He started to reach for the bottle of gatorade that he'd brought with him, but Alexander caught his paw and shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You lost that game, mousie. Why don't you try this, instead?" After reaching into duffel bag, the wolf pulled out a big baby bottle filled with pink lemonade and thrust that into the mouse's hand, instead.
This elicited a plaintive whine from the mouse, but he was thirsty, so he just drew the rubber nipple up to his lips and started suckling. Alexander gave him a moment to catch his breath and take a drink, since drinking this way was trickier than just drinking from a gatorade bottle - despite all the practice that Tommy had gotten with using one of these. Unfortunately, that gave the mouse to chance to look around the court, and see that there were more people gathering around the fence to watch him and the wolf play, maybe half a dozen now. He blushed bright red and toddled back onto the court to keep playing.
He was trying his best now, but knowing that people were watching him as he hopped and wiggled his way around the court and flailed his girl's racket at the ball in helpless frustration was making it very difficult for him to concentrate. And Alexander was just bunting the ball back into play, moving Tommy from one side to the other, perfectly calm and collected. Under normal circumstances, Tommy would have teed off and crushed any of those balls, but with his new racket, he could only barely dink them back over the net. And he was stumbling too much, losing his footing and getting to his shots late, so he was missing almost as often as he hit it back.
Before long, Alexander called out, "Game! I think that's four to nothing, squeaker. You ready for the next piece of your outfit?" Tommy hung his head and trudged up to the net, but as devastatingly embarrassing as this experience had turned out to be so far, as unbelievably silly as he felt in his current outfit and situation, the mouse couldn't deny that the humiliating tingle in the back of his neck was kind of exciting, in a weird way. So his heart was pounding in his chest as he was thinking about what else the wolf might have in store for him, not just because of how humbled he was, but because there was a weird part of him that was actually looking forward to it.
The next item turned out to be a pair of pink and white velcro tennis shoes, with red flashing lights in the heels that went off whenever the shoes made contact with the ground. Tommy whined softly as his regular, worn-in tennis sneakers were slipped off and his feetpaws were slid into those girlish replacements. He didn't say anything, but as he stood there and looked down at his new footwear, he had to admit they were pretty cute.
It's probably not surprising that the change in his shoes took care of the last vestiges of the mouse's tennis capabilities. Trying to adjust to running in a diaper while swinging a brand-new tennis racket and running with shoes that fit weird and even grip the court differently was just too much for him, even if he wasn't constantly thinking about the people who were watching him stumble and fall back onto his diapered butt with a heavy, padded *whump* when he tried to back up for a ball on game point and lost his footing.
Tommy could hear the small crowd at the fences giggling and 'awwing' at his little tumble, while Alexander practically skipped around to the other side of the court, reaching down to help the mouse back up to his feet, both paws under Tommy's arms. The wolf then patted the mouse's rear and led him back to the net, where the duffel bags were waiting for him. This time, the mouse's shirt was replaced with a pink baby tee that had 'Tennis Brat' written across the front, and which wasn't quite long enough to reach the waistband of the mouse's shorts. He wasn't going to have any luck tugging it down to hide his puffy seat, now.
The next game was the last game of the first set, and it was done before Tommy even knew what was happening. Everything was getting to be a blur to him as he watched the tennis ball bounce past him, towards the back fence where about a dozen furs were standing, giggling and whispering to each other. The court seemed to be getting bigger, like he couldn't make it from one side to the other like he used to. And the net seemed higher, too! He couldn't seem to get the ball over it! Or maybe it just seemed like he was getting smaller... and the glare from his visor made everything seem pink-tinted.
After the first set, Tommy stood there and nursed from the baby bottle while Alexander tugged down his shorts and replaced them with a cute little tennis skirt, not even close to long enough to cover up his diaper. The plastic waistband stuck out in top and the middle bulged out below the bottom of the skirt, between his legs. Tommy whined and whimpered into bottle, but Alexander just grinned as a few people in the crowd whistled from behind the fence. The wolf certainly would never admit it, but he could see that a part of Tommy was enjoying all this, despite how humiliating it was.
The second set seemed to fly by, as Tommy waddled and bent over and showed off his diapered rear and swung helplessly at balls that bounced way out of his reach, squeaking in adorable frustration while the crowd giggled and aww'ed at his helpless display. In a flash, Tommy had lost the first five games of the second set, and as a result, his tennis socks had been replaced with frilly pink ankle-socks, ruffled rhumba panties had been tugged up over his diapers, his wristbands had been replaced with fuzzy, pink mittens, he had a pacifier planted firmly in his muzzle, and a big pink bow had been tied around his tail. He had shown up to the court looking like a confident and grown-up mouseboy, but now he just looked like a silly, overgrown toddler girl, which was pretty much how he felt, too.
He was flushed pink as he nursed on his soother, realizing that he was just one point from losing the match. He had stopped trying to count how many people had stopped on their scenic walk through the park to stand by the tennis court and watch him try to play, but it was more than two dozen, for sure. They applauded whenever he did something particularly silly, like lose his balance or miss the ball or show off his frilly, diapered rear on accident. Tommy was panting through his nose as he readied himself to try one last time, trying to ignore the strange, electric tingling in the back of his neck and in between his legs, along with the heaviness in the pit of his stomach.
Tommy panted and grunted as he waddled back and forth in the court. He got the impression that Alexander was deliberately drawing this out, just getting the mouse to scramble back and forth as much as he could, so the frustrated and embarrassed mouse took a big swing at the ball and actually connected on it, sticking it deep to the corner of the wolf's court. It was all he could do to get his racket on it to block it back, and the ball sailed high into the air, where it was going to drop just over the other side of the net, an easy ball for Tommy to hit an overhead smash on. It may have been too little, too late, but it was something, at least, so Tommy waddled up to the net and readied himself where the ball was going to bounce. He cocked his racket back over his head and got ready to swing.
And just then, Tommy realized that the heavy, full feeling in the pit of his stomach was not just from how embarrassed he was. His stomach gurgled and he felt something start to move. He gasped and let out a high-pitched squeal as his grip on his racket loosened and it tumbled to the ground at his feet. His body started moving without his permission as he suddenly squatted, right where he was standing, bending at the waist and knees and sticking out his puffy, frilly diapered seat behind him, while the base of his tail flagged up. He grunted and mumbled ineffectual protests, but it was too late.
The seat of his diaper bulged as he stood there, unable to do anything as the ball bounced just behind him and trickled back towards the back fence, where the crowd was watching with wide eyes as the sissified mouseboy loaded up his diapers in front of them. Unbeknownst to him, Tommy had been drinking a baby bottle full of pink lemonade that had been mixed with a laxative, which combined with the butterflies in his tummy already, had a very strong effect on the poor squeaker. He felt his messy accident spread across his seat as he whimpered and groaned, mittened paws clenched into tight fists, while Alexander ambled up to the net and leaned against it, watching Tommy helplessly filling his babypants.
Tommy didn't even remember when his bladder released, too, and whether he had just decided it didn't matter at that point, or whether he started piddling without noticing it, either, but before long his diapers were warm and heavy, sagging between legs. As soon as he finished, he tried to stand, but found his knees had gone all rubbery, and he slowly started teetering backwards before his legs buckled and he plopped back onto his freshly-messed diaperseat, with a wet squishing sound, as a roar of laughter and applause came from the crowd who had gathered around the court.
Alexander bent over the mouse and twirled the last item from his new outfit around his index finger. It was the mouse's pink collar. The wolf bent down and started to slide it around Tommy's neck, gently scritching underneath his chin. "So, Tammy... is there something you'd like to admit?"
The mouse blinked up at the wolf from where he was sitting, gurgling a bit into his soother, nearly overwhelmed at how humiliated he was. He was light-headed and woozy, but his diapers felt so nice, all warm and squishy around his middle. The mouse squeaked, "I ... I ..." as he fidgeted, feeling his messy diaper underneath his bottom, "I'm n-n-not a big boy, I'm nooooot," he whined, shivering as he said it. "I'm not t-tough, or strong, or manly - or - or anyfing!"
Alexander nodded slowly and patted the mousie between his ears, "And what are you?"
"I'm ... I'm ... I'm a silly widdle squishy stinky whiny subby sissy bay-bee!"
Alexander smiled and leaned down to kiss the mouse on his nose, before he slid both paws under his arms and helped him to stand back up again, before taking a mittened paw and starting to lead him off the tennis court. "That's right, what a smart little sissy. Maybe next time, you'll just admit it from the start, and we won't have to go through something like this again? Although, I don't know... you might have enjoyed this." After he gathered up the mouse's old tennis clothes and placed them in the now-mostly empty duffel bags, he patted the sissy mouse's seat and smiled. "Don't worry, stinker, we'll get you changed once we get back to my apartment. We only have to walk a few blocks to get there..."