Diaper Glue
By Musuko

A nudge to his foot. And, in response, he groaned and flopped his arm across his face.
	“Ungh. Tumble, let me sleep!”
	It was not a command that made a great deal of sense inside the big soppy pet labrador’s brain. Tumble heard the noises, cocked his head as if pondering deeply the meaning and how he might respond to its nuances, and then did what he always did: he jumped up onto the bed and slobbered recklessly all over Erin’s face.
	Poor Erin. For a cat to be so mercilessly drooled upon by a dog was an unthinkable travesty. And this was a routine occurrence. Also routine was the epic battle needed to get free of the dog’s eager affections, resulting in a tangle of bedding and limbs and, all too often, a misplaced canine paw bruising some poor sensitive area of feline anatomy.
	“Sam,” shouted Erin, his arms around Tumble’s neck, his head tilted right back to keep away from swiping licks. “Did you feed the dog?”
	“It’s your turn!”
	“Oh yeah.”
	Tumble’s vacant stare seemed to accuse him. I’m hungry, it seemed to say. So hungry. I’m wasting awaaaay! Heeeeeelp!
	Erin ruffled the fur of Tumble’s scruff. “Alright, jeez. I get it. Come on then, you. Breakfast!”
	And now Tumble was easy to get off the bed. He sprang away, tail wagging hard and thumping against the bed, then the door, then the wall in the hallway. Erin swung his legs out from the tangle of bedding and rubbed at his eyes. Blegh. He stood up and...
	...sat right back down again.
	“Oh ha ha,” he shouted. “Very funny Sam!”
	For Erin was a slim cat. Some would (and did) say he was almost feminine, or childlike. It could be an insult or a compliment, depending on who it was coming from. But it was sure to bring a blush to his ears regardless. And with this slimness came a skinny little waist and hips, with thighs barely thicker than his fluffy tail. So it was rather noticeable, then, when he found himself bearing a distinctly unslender waist this particular morning. Because this morning, Erin woke up to find himself taped into an adult diaper.
	This diaper was no subtle affair, no thin pair of incontinence pants designed to be hidden underneath clothing. This was a comically thick mass of cotton and plastic, swollen almost spherical around his waist and pushing his thighs apart. This was a garment of humiliation. This was, most definitely, a prank!
	“What’s very funny?”
	The ferret hung from the doorframe, leaning across at an unlikely angle, his toothbrush hanging out of a foam-filled mouth. Naturally, he was stark naked. This was just how Sam rolled. He had an athletic body that he wanted to show off. And show it he did, every chance he could.
	Sam blinked. His eyes darted down for a moment. They came back up again accompanied by a grin. Erin yelped and pulled the bedcovers across his lap. “Don’t look!”
	“Too late! I saw everything. What on earth are you wearing?”
“You should know. You put it on me!”
“Nothing to do with me! Suits you though, baby butt!”
“Don’t call me that!”
“What, baby butt? But you are a baby butt!”
“Shaddup!”
“Baby butt baby butt!”
Erin threw a pillow. It missed. Tumble sat on it.
“Could you...feed the dog for me? While I get changed?”
“Sure thing...baby butt.”
With the bedcovers wrapped around himself like a sarong, Erin waddled over to the door and pushed it shut. If the diaper was nothing to do with Sam, then that must mean...the party. He must have gone to the party at the student union bar last night. He must have got drunk. Blind drunk. So drunk that he couldn’t remember a thing. But...no hangover? But what else could have caused this? He must have got drunk, and then he must have passed out. And then...
But who would be carrying around a huge diaper just to put it on the first person who passed out at a party? That’s a lot of effort just for a prank! That was taking pranking to a whole new level! And where did they even get it? You don’t just walk into a shop on the high street and buy a giant adult-sized comedy diaper! Nobody would want to walk around and be seen in something so humiliating.
Oh god. The crashing coldness of realisation. He must have walked home wearing it! Naked in a diaper! In front of everybody! He buried his face in his paws, muffling a wail. He would never live this down! Who might have seen? All his friends? Everyone? Damn it! He had to get this thing off, even if the damage was already done. He could just imagine Sam bursting back into the room with a camera. That was the kind of thing he would do. Not that it would even matter by now. There were probably pictures all over the internet already!
Erin tugged at the tapes. They didn’t budge. So he attempted to push a finger in under the waistband so he could hook his claw into the lining and rip it free. But his fingertip stopped at the plastic, unable to prise in between the diaper and the fur of his tummy.
A word flashed through his head. Glue?!
He bit his lip, hard, fighting back the rising panic, and hurried over to the mirror, as fast as the diaper’s bulk would let him. If it were possible for his blush to get any hotter, it did. There in the glass was the sight that had greeted Sam. No wonder he laughed! The thick bulk of the diaper curving outwards from his waist completely threw off his body proportions: he was already hardly the most masculine eighteen year old, resigned to getting carded at every bar for at least a few more years. But now? Now he looked like a damn kid! Eighteen to ten, with the simple addition of one garment. He stifled a whimper, gripped two pawfuls of rustling plastic, and pulled.
Nothing. Not even a tear. It should have ripped, shouldn’t it? Diapers weren’t that strong, were they?! He unsheathed all ten claws to their full extension and stabbed them all down into his crotch, dimpling the plastic and pushing deep into the fluffy padding beneath. The diaper was so thick that he barely felt the pressure against his sheath underneath! He dragged his claws as hard as he could, grunting with the effort, raking long furrows in the plastic. But still nothing! He lifted his paws away and, after a few moments for the compressed padding to swell back up, the diaper looked exactly as it had done before, unmarked and undamaged.
“What the hell!” he cried.
There were scissors in his desk drawer. He fell over his feet as he rushed to grab them. He had to think carefully about each step, to waddle with his thighs held nearly a foot apart. With effort he was able to press them hard together, straining his muscles to compress the padding and make it bulge out in a great big ridge between his legs. He grabbed the scissors, turned both sharp points to the plastic, and squeezed the handles together as hard as he could. The plastic pinched between the blades. He gripped harder, wrapping his fingers around both handles together, pressing them almost completely together. He let out a roar of strength, or a mewl, depending on who you asked.
And then the hinge of the scissors snapped, sending the various component parts clattering to the floor around him. The pinched bulge in the diaper slowly, mockingly, settled back to flat, unblemished smoothness.
“God damn it!”
He felt around the ruffled bands at the waist and leg holes, trying to probe his finger into any opening. But his fur and the plastic met together all along the edges, almost without a seam. He tried tugging the diaper away from his fur and felt the fur get tugged along with it.
What if he cut the fur? He would look a mess, sure, with scraps of glue and bald patches all around his waist and thighs. But he’d be free of the diaper! So he’d need a pair of…he looked down at the broken scissors…crap.
But he tried! He scooped up one of the blades and, holding it like a dagger, gingerly attempted to slide it down between the diaper and his tummy. The tip stopped where the diaper met his fur, progressing no further. How could he cut the fur if he couldn’t even get at it? Maybe…with a drill? Or a saw or something? He winced at the thought. Power tools near his privates? No way!
What about a solvent? It was glue, right? So surely you could dissolve that stuff. You just needed the right chemical. But that would mean going outside to a hardware store. Outside. Like this. In the diaper! He staggered backwards towards his bed, whimpering, and sank down onto his rear, padded by the bedding, padded by the diaper, feeling like he was sitting down on a big thick cushion that moulded snugly to his rear, soft cotton-like lining rubbing up into the cleft of his butt, a comforting embrace that he couldn’t escape from. His ears burned so hot. He felt like he was going to melt!
He would have to get dressed. Put clothes on over the diaper, put on a brave face...and go outside to get what he needed to fix this. There was nothing else for it.
The fear. An ever-present companion. It rose up inside him, renewed and strengthened by this new embarrassment. Now instead of being a shy, stammering little kitty cat when confronted with strangers…he would instead be a shy, stammering little kitty cat wearing a diaper and confronting strangers. This was a whole new level of mortifying humiliation. And there was no way to get out of it: he had to do it.
The sound the kitty cat made as he processed this information was more akin to a rodent’s squeak than anything a feline would normally make. His throat felt closed up, strangling his voice to a tiny terrified noise. He could do with a drink of water. But that would mean leaving the room, in the diaper, to go to the kitchen. Oh god, there was no escape!
He jumped to his feet. Clothes! He needed clothes. Surely he had something that could hide it. A long trenchcoat would be ideal! Or a massive pair of baggy jeans. Anything! But he opened the wardrobe with a heavy heart. Because he knew that he was well-supplied with fashionable skinny jeans and form-hugging t-shirts. Oh sure, he had some nice chunky jackets…that reached to the waist only. Hardly a help!
But…there had to be something. Anything! He clawed through the rack of clothes, hunting in a frenzy. Something! Anything! Maybe in the dresser? Surely he had some baggy sports clothes, for the gym? But…no. He had stopped going to the gym months ago, and he had given away the clothes to charity after a spring clean. He had been so happy with himself at the time. How could he have been so stupid? He needed them now! From now on, he would never get rid of anything, never ever!
He picked out a t-shirt that seemed to be the longest and baggiest he had, and a pair of jeans that didn’t look too tight. He sat back onto the bed…that weird, shiver-inducing cushion feeling again…and prayed hard while he tugged them on. The waistband slid up his thighs, over the curve of the diaper at his hips…he rolled onto his back and stuck his legs up in the air, raising his butt, pulling hard, hoping for a little help from gravity.
“Nnngh!”
He flopped his legs back down. The waistband of the jeans was stuck halfway up the diaper’s bulge. It couldn’t possibly go any further. And this was with the fly undone! The button at the top of the zipper was two inches away from being closed. There was just no way!
He stood up. The front of the jeans hung open, exposing the white plastic of the diaper, and still more of it spilled out around the waistband, a four inch wide strip of bulging diaper, plain to see. He pulled the t-shirt over his head and gripped the hem, tugging it down as hard as he could. Despite being a size too big for him, it still only barely concealed the waistband bulge, and did nothing to hide the open fly. He pulled harder, making the shirt dig into the back of his neck, making a soft noise of creaking fabric, as he tried to stretch it further.
“Come on…pleaaaase.”
He let go. He’d gained another inch of concealment, maybe? Still not good enough! This was hopeless. He had to get bigger clothes. But that meant leaving the room and going outside. And going outside was the reason he needed bigger clothes in the first place! Total catch twenty-two! What was he going to do?!
Trish! Of course! Why didn’t he think of that before? Trish would help! Trish was smart and caring. Trish wouldn’t make fun of him! Trish would bring clothes. Hell, Trish would go to the hardware store and get solvent for him! Trish was awesome!
He grabbed his phone and called her up.
“Hey Erin!”
“Trish...I need your help.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Erin shifted uneasily, tugging at his t-shirt, staring down at the diaper. He was going to have to tell her. Right? Wasn’t she going to want to know?
Or, he told himself, he could not tell her...not exactly anyway.
“Something bad happened and, uh...I need you to help me. Could you-”
“Oh my god, Erin! Did something happen? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, really. I just need you to-”
“I’m so sorry, poor Erin! I’ll be right over. I’ll help you get through it. Wait there!”
“Wait, Trish! Trish?”
He lifted the phone away from his ear. She had hung up! And she was coming over! Quickly, he redialled. He danced uneasily from foot to foot, the diaper crinkling maddeningly, while the phone rang. And rang. And rang. She wasn’t answering! And she was on her way over! And she was going to see the diaper!
For the next minute and a half he ran around the room in a mad, stumbling panic, caught in terrified indecision. Hide in the bathroom? Under the bed? Do nothing and just let her see? What to do! He chewed his lip and squeaked unhappily, then looked at the bed.
That was it! He dived into the bed, pulling the covers up over himself, tucked in under his chin. He bent his knees up a little to make a tent over his body, hiding the bulge of the diaper underneath. He would pretend he was sick! It wasn’t a brilliant plan, but it would have to do.
She arrived a few minutes later. He heard Sam let her in, and heard Tumble bark and skitter about on the laminate floor of the hallway, pestering her for attention. He heard her footsteps on the stairs, and then the timid knock at his door.
He faked a cough. “Come in,” he croaked.
Her big skunk tail floofed through the door almost before she did. Big green eyes, filled with concern, stared at him, making him cringe and pull the covers up over his nose. She was wearing her painter’s smock, daubed with multicoloured splashes. He had definitely interrupted an art project.
“Oh hun!” she cried, rushing to the side of the bed. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m f-fine...just a little sick.”
She found his arm and squeezed it through the covers. He bit his lip and tried to shimmy his butt away from her. She was barely inches away from the diaper, and she had no clue.
“You sounded upset. Did something happen? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
She was staring at him like she expected some terrible reveal. He felt like squirming, prickling unease under his skin. Damn it, Trish! Why’d you have to jump to conclusions like that.
“E-everything’s fine,” he stammered. “Just...something happened at the party, is all. And I kinda-”
“Party? What party?”
“The one at the student union last night.”
He saw her frown. “But you weren’t at the party last night.”
“What?”
“You said you couldn’t make it. We called you, remember?”
“Uh...oh right. Yeah, I remember.” But he couldn’t. Not at all. Not one single detail. Surely he had gone to the party! Otherwise...where did the diaper come from. He needed time to think it over. This was all so confusing! But Trish was staring at him, and she expected him to tell him what this misunderstood, invented trauma was. Damn it Trish, why couldn’t she have just stayed quiet and let him explain what he needed? Just bring some clothes over and leave them outside his door. It would have been so simple!
“I, uh...” He chewed his lip. “I mean...it happened while the party was going on. Not that I was there, I mean.”
“Oh,” she said. “What happened, Erin?”
He searched his mind for something to tell her. Anything but the truth. He fixed himself perfectly rigid, trying not to tremble or squirm, trying not to do anything that would make the diaper rustle and give away his secret, hidden so close to her.
“I...c-came out to my parents.”
“Oh hun!” She squeezed his arm tighter. “Are you okay? How did it go?”
He smiled weakly, feeling like such a fraud. She was so concerned. Such a good friend! It felt awful to be lying to her. She didn’t know that he came out to his parents years ago!
“T-they were...okay about it,” he said, the lie in full steam now. “I’m just...a bit shook up is all.”
She looked almost like she had tears in her eyes. She smiled widely, so proud of him. She let go of his arm, patting. “Well, that’s good! I’m so glad, Erin! We should celebrate. When you’re better, of course.”
“Sure,” he croaked. And damn it, now he did feel like he had been through some kind of emotional trauma. But oh! The clothes. “Trish? Could you...do me a favour while I’m ill?”
“Of course! Anything you need. What is it?”
“Could I...borrow some of your clothes?”
She raised an eyebrow. “My clothes? What for?”
“Just...I need some, is all. You have some jeans maybe? A big coat?”
“Well, sure, normally.” And now it was her turn to look embarrassed. She looked away, rubbing at the crook of her elbow. “But, umm...I dropped all mine off at my parent’s place last night to be washed. I know, I know! I’m a big baby, having my mummy do my laundry. But I ran out of clean stuff and I’m just so busy with the painting and...” she gestured helplessly to her smock. “This is all I’ve got to wear for a few days. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh.”
“Did you run out of clean clothes too?”
“Kinda...”
She raised a fist in ironic triumph. “Go us. Yay.” She glanced at her watch. A not so subtle hint. He knew this project was important to her. “So...are you gonna be okay?”
No, he thought. “Sure...thank you for coming over.”
“Don’t mention it, hun. Remember, celebration when you’re better, right?”
He managed a weak smile. “Right.”
And then she was gone, her duty as a good friend completed. Erin groaned and pulled his pillow over his face. That was an utter, catastrophic failure.
Okay, maybe not a complete failure. It would have been worse if she had discovered the diaper. Small miracles, right? Or maybe not? Maybe he should have shown her, and she could have helped. Trish wasn’t the kind to make fun of him. She would have helped, and it would have all been sorted out, and everything would have been fine. Idiot! Why didn’t he tell her? It was almost like...he just couldn’t. He couldn’t make the words come out. And instead he told that stupid lie.
He threw the covers off and glared down at the diaper. It still poked out from his jeans, totally noticeable. He tried again to pull the fly closed, gripping until his knuckles ached, feeling like they were going to snap off! He dug his heels into the bed and arched himself up, legs spread, diapered butt on show.
“Oh my!”
Erin collapsed back, yelping.
“Sam! Get out!”
The ferret was dressed now, a miracle in itself. He stood leaning against the doorframe, his paw still on the door where he’d pushed it open. That grin drilled into Erin, burning him with a blush.
“Need a little help there?”
“No! Go away!”
“You sure? Because, I mean, I could lend you some clothes if you like.”
“I said ge...what?”
“I figure my waist’s a few inches bigger than yours, right? I can probably lend you some clothes if you promise not to stretch them out too much. Seeing as you’re having such trouble there with yours, I mean. But, if you’re not interested...”
“Yes! Uh...I mean, that would be really helpful Sam, thank you.”
Sam grinned. “Come on then, come and pick which ones you want.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “What? You mean, go to your room? Can’t you just bring some here?”
“Nope! You’ve gotta come to my room. All the way down the hallway.”
“You’re a devil!”
“What’s the problem? It’s not like anyone’s gonna see.”
“You’ll see!”
“Hmm. True! I guess I will, won’t I? But I’ve already seen you in that diaper, haven’t I? Haven’t seen you walking in it yet though. Looking forward to that.”
“Devil!”
“You want the clothes or not?”
Erin whined. “Yes...”
“Great! Come on then.”
Erin glared daggers, but it did no good. Sam just grinned like an imp. Evil ferret! And his wickedness continued as, instead of leading the way to his room, Sam stood aside to let Erin wriggle past him in the doorway, staring and smiling at him the whole way. Erin felt the ferret’s eyes on his back as he waddled down the hallway. Or rather, he felt his eyes on his butt. At the door to Sam’s room, he heard a click and a beep behind him. Erin spun around.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
Erin glared. His cheeks felt hot. He knew his anger looked ridiculous, what with the fat diaper and the tight jeans straining and failing to hold it in. It only seemed to make Sam grin louder.
“Did you take a photo of me?”
“No! Of course not. Look!” Sam held his paws up, palms out. “Paws empty, see?”
“I don’t believe you. What about your pockets?”
Sam pouted theatrically. “I’m hurt that you don’t trust me. And when I’m doing you this big favour and everything. I guess you don’t want the clothes after all...”
“Alright!” Erin bit his lip. “Alright, I trust you. Happy?”
“Very!”
Sam showed him to the wardrobe. Within was a bounty of clothes, all of which offered the hope of concealment far better than his own. Erin reached for the rack, but Sam sidestepped into his path.
“Nu-uh! I’ll pick something out for you. You take those jeans off first.”
“Can’t I just take something back to my room and...” He trailed off. Sam was grinning. The answer would be no. Sam was going to extract a price for this favour. “You’re so mean...”
“Come on. Take ‘em off!”
Erin huffed and stepped backwards, sitting himself down on the edge of Sam’s bed. He felt Sam watching him as he lay back and reversed the process of getting the stubborn clothing off him. He squeezed his eyes shut, burning with shame. The jeans refused to come off easily, and he had to writhe and struggle with his legs kicking up in the air, diapered butt on show. Sam could see everything! This really wasn’t fair at all! And Sam would tease him about this for months, Erin was sure.
Finally, he kicked the stubborn garment off his feet and sat back upright, squeezing his legs together as close as they could go, folding his arms across his lap, trying to hide, and opened his eyes just in time to see Sam stuff his paw into his pocket.
“You were filming me!”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yes you were! You...you...what is that?”
Sam was grinning, holding out a huge brown duffle coat. “Your clothes.”
“But I need something to cover the diaper.”
“I know! This will do the job perfectly. Come on, stand up!”
Erin stood in a daze. It was easier just to not bother thinking any more. Just...go along with it, stop worrying, let it happen. Things were already mortifyingly terrible. Trying to make things better wasn’t going to do any good. Just...go with it. He held his arms out for Sam and let him slide the heavy coat onto him.
“There, see? It covers it up completely.”
Erin looked down at himself. “Barely! It only comes down to my thighs.”
“Uhuh. That’s all you need.”
“But I’ve only got the diaper on underneath! Can’t I wear something else? Those jeans there maybe? Or what about-”
“Nope! That’s all you’re getting. I’m doing you a favour, kitty cat! If you don’t want it though...”
“N-no! This will be fine.” He hugged his arms around himself, holding the thick coat against himself. “T-thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, kitty!”
He had been had. He knew it. He glared at Sam for a moment. Was he behind this after all? He could have glued the diaper on him. He seemed to be enjoying the result!
But did it matter? Erin glanced quickly at the clock on Sam’s wall.
“I...I gotta go.”
Sam grinned toothily. Such a devil. “Have fun, kitty!”
It was only a short walk to the bus stop, but it felt like miles. The coat kept the cold chill out, but let all of it blow right up his bare legs, emphasising his hidden near-nudity. It felt like a dress, with the diaper underneath only barely hidden, at risk of exposure at any moment. He grumbled bitterly, clutching the coat tight around him, just in case it came undone by some freak catastrophic failure of the stitching. Nudity would be preferable to this. At least then it would be over with. Instead he had to deal with this constant stress of potential exposure. And worse, it wasn’t just bare legs. It was a damn diaper he had to hide! He could feel its weight against his butt as he walked. He could hear its rustling, broadcasting out for surely everyone to hear as he passed them on the path, as he waited at the bus stop, as he boarded. And, as he sat on the seat, waiting for the bus to lurch its way across town, he felt the soft padding cling to his sheath as the bus’s engine vibrated beneath him.
“Not now,” he mewled under his breath. “Please oh please not now.”
Thinking about it only made it worse. That, of course, made it impossible not to think about. He thought about his normal morning routine, spoiled by the diaper fiasco: the pleasure of laying back in the warmth of the bed and sliding his paw down under the covers and working his morning wood with gentle strokes, lazily enjoying the pleasure while his mind wandered, thinking about all the things he could do...or have done to him, thinking about tight, hard bodies and sweaty scents, the grip of arms around him, the breathless panting.
Thinking about...Devlin. Devlin with the smile that gleamed, the electric-blue fur, the trimmed pattern of swirls and loops tattooing his arm. Devlin with the muscles and tone in just the right proportion to make Erin stop and stumble, staring like a fool. Devlin with the ring in his lower lip. Devlin who nibbled at it when he was thinking. Devlin who’s green eyes made Erin feel hot and shaky when they glided over him. Devlin the lithe, easy-going pony, whose body stood poised over Erin in every fantasy he had lately, holding the thick equine cock that Erin’s fantasy painted onto him, smiling the smile that made Erin whimper, staring down at him with those amazing eyes, grinning like a devil...devlish Devlin. And what he would say next changed from one fantasy to the next. Lick it. Suck it. Roll over, tail up. Beg for it. Tell me you want it.
And Erin would breathe shakily, his whole body shuddering. And he would long to reach up and pull Devlin down onto him, flailing and fumbling with clumsy ferocity, until Devlin took hold of him, calm and collected and confident, taking charge and forcing Erin to relax. Whispers in his ear. Paws roaming, making him feel good. And tears in Erin’s eyes, longing for the fantasy as it fades back out to the reality of sweaty sheets and a sticky paw.
Or, in this case, the aching humiliation of the rubbing cotton against his needy erection, stuck inside a diaper, under a coat, on a grimy old bus rumbling through town. He bit his lip and hunkered further down into his seat, wishing the bus would hurry up, or wishing it would take longer so he wouldn’t have to stand up and get off it with a hardon...he couldn’t decide which he wanted more.
He thumbed his phone in his pocket. Devlin’s number was in there. Hey! You’re a friend of Trish’s right? Can I borrow your phone for a sec? I need to check her number.
Erin had passed it over in numbed silence. He had locked up and felt like he’d turned to stone. He hadn’t expected Devlin to just walk right up to him, interrupting whatever internal wanderings he had been engaged in. He’d held out the phone like a mute.
Thanks! I’ll just be a sec.
Erin had so badly longed to speak to him. Hey, you’re Devlin right? You doing anything later? Trish and I are going to the bar. Want to come along?
It would have been so easy. Hah. Yeah right. Instead, he stared at those green eyes as Devlin tapped at the phone’s screen, and he said nothing.
Hey, thanks for that! I’ll see you around. Erin, right? Cool name. See you later!
Long after he’d gone, Erin had seen the number added into his phone. Devlin. And he had agonised over the reason behind it appearing there. Was it an invitation? Was it a pickup? Was it just friendliness? What was it? What should he do? Call him up? Text him? Say hi? Or just...do nothing...and worry about it and let it mess with his head until he could barely stand to think about it.
The bus juddered to a stop, and the bright sign of the hardware store shone as his salvation. He got off the bus as fast as he could, eyes held down, listening to the crinkle crinkle of the diaper, knowing that everyone must hear it. And they probably knew that he was horny too. They knew about his hard cock and could hear every thought in his head and everyone was laughing at him and...
He rushed inside the store, into the wide open expanse of warm air and bright lights and the smell of sawn wood and oiled steel. He relaxed a little. This was a bit simpler. A plain and clear mission. He hurried down the nearest aisle, eyes up to scan the hanging signs. Where would they keep the solvents? Paint, brushes, sealant...he turned a corner and hurried down the next aisle. Nails, screws, glue! This looked right. He scanned the shelves, feeling the urgency that came with being so close to success.
And then, with growing horror, another kind of urgency.
“Not now!” he whined.
He forced his thighs together, compressing the diaper between his legs. That explained the hardon on the bus. It wasn’t because of his wandering, horny thoughts. It was a full bladder. Belated morning wood!
At least...that’s what he told himself.
He squirmed from foot to foot, concentrating on the shelves. If he could just find the right solvent, he could get out of here and out of the diaper and go for a pee...oh god he badly needed to pee. Where had this come from? How had he not noticed? He bit his lip, hard, concentrating on the discomfort as a distraction. Glue...more glue...bonding agents, extra strength, extra extra strength, no solvent! Surely there had to be something! Where was it?!
“Please please...just hold it,” he whispered. “Don’t go...think about something else.”
Solvent! Yes! He flipped it over in shaking paws and read the back of the label. It was a flood of jargon and warnings, but there amidst it all were the wonderful words that made him want to squeal in joy: “safe for use on skin and fur.”
	He half ran, half waddled to the counter, clutching his prize. His bladder felt like a balloon about to burst. He willed himself to stay calm and patient, waiting for the lady to scan the solvent, waiting for his change, waiting for his receipt, ever waiting while he dreamed of porcelain and the sweet release of peeing.
	“E-excuse me. Do you have a bathroom?”
	“Just over there.”
	He stammered his thanks as he scurried for the salvation of the door. The mission was clear: use the solvent, get free of the diaper, stand over the toilet and...blessed relief. He slammed through the door and dived into the nearest cubicle. Oh hurry hurry...the toilet was right there, begging and inviting. He had never wanted anything so badly. To just be able to pee, and not soak the diaper like a baby! He shuddered at the thought of sitting on the bus on the ride home, the diaper wet and squelching and heavy. He practically tore open the plastic bag, frantic to get at the solvent. He reached his paw inside and pulled out...
	A package of nails and a screwdriver set.
	What?!
	He dropped them clattering to the floor and searched the bag. There must have been a mistake! He picked up the wrong bag maybe? He’d have to go back out, show the receipt, swap the bag for the right one. He’d have to hold it in. He’d have to...
	He stared at the receipt. The text read, in plain black and white: Round wire nails, chrome vanadium screwdriver set. He leaned back against the door, a whimper in his throat, sounding like a trapped mouse. He let the receipt fall from his paw. He could so clearly remember the tube of solvent. He could remember how it felt in his fingers. He could remember the colour of the logo, the warnings on the back, the smell of the plastic. It was real. It had to be real!
	This must be what it felt like to go mad. He was going mad, imagining things. He put his paws over his face and let out a frustrated cry. Too late now. He might as well just accept it and let it happen. He bit back a sob and let go, waiting for the inevitable misery of the wet heat flooding around his crotch, followed by the shameful walk back out into the store to try to buy the solvent again. He waited, trembling...
	And nothing. He moved his paws away from his face. Suddenly nothing at all: the ache of his full bladder was gone. He yanked open the coat and felt the front of the diaper. No wetness. Nothing!
	Going mad!
	He stumbled out of the cubicle and rushed for the sinks, splashing water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror. That’s what they did in the movies, right? It didn’t help. Now he was crazy and wet, staring bedraggled back at himself.
	“Something’s happening,” he whispered shakily. “Something...is...happening.”
	Nothing made sense. He couldn’t begin to dream of an explanation. He wandered out of the bathroom in a daze. His coat hung open. The diaper showed for the world to see every time the coat flapped. He didn’t care. He was going crazy. He walked out of the door, out into the street, moving like a zombie. No point getting the solvent now. He was going crazy. He just needed to go home. Go home and lie down in bed and go to sleep and hope and pray that he woke up in a padded cell somewhere. He sat down on the bench at the bus stop, leaning back against the glass, closing his eyes. A nice padded cell, with nice doctors and nurses, who’ll look after him and tell him that he’s crazy, that it’s all in his head, and everything will be alright...
	“Erin?”
	He jolted upright, eyes wide. Green eyes stared back at him, full of concern. Erin felt his throat tighten up, words squeezed away into squeaky silence. Devlin!
	“Are you alright? You look a little...”
	Oh god. Those green eyes had flitted downwards, then lingered there. The front of the coat was open. The diaper was on full show, jutting out from underneath his t-shirt, proudly and boldly shining white and clean against the watery sunlight. And Devlin was staring at it. Staring. Right. At. It.
	“I didn’t know you...”
	What? What?!
	And then Devlin was smiling. This was a nightmare! But...but...
	And then everything seemed to move so slowly, motion trapped in transparent syrup. The smile wasn’t mocking. It radiated friendly warmth and...something else. Something that made Erin want to mewl. It was the smile that existed only in his fantasies. Or it had, until now. Now it was real. Devlin was smiling the smile that made Erin feel like his clothes were being peeled off, his head turned up for a kiss. It was a smile that reached those bright green eyes, raising an eyebrow in a knowing look. And now Devlin was sitting down beside him, thighs touching, and he reached across to take hold of his coat, gently tugging the front closed.
	“What brand is it?”
	Erin gaped. Words were there, confused and jumbled, mainly forming a variation on “What?!” But they stayed stubbornly trapped in his throat. He could smell Devlin’s fur. And Devlin had seen his diaper. Oh god he had seen the diaper and now he was talking about it.
	“I prefer Snuggers myself. Nice and bulky and thick. You can really feel that you’re wearing them. That doesn’t look like a Snuggers, though. Hasn’t got the pattern on the tapes. Where did you get it?”
	It took a monumental effort to force the sounds out. “I don’t know...”
	“Oh, someone got them for you? Lucky guy! I’m assuming it was a guy, right? I mean, Trish did tell me about you...”
	Erin’s thoughts raced too fast to make any sense. In the blinding blur of confusion he could only linger on the thought of Devlin. Wearing diapers. Devlin wearing diapers. Was he wearing one now? He tilted his head towards him, seeing only the blurry wash of colour sat beside him, his blue fur wrapped up in a fleecy hooded jacket, that smiling face looking out at him from under the hood. Was there a diaper under those baggy jeans? Hugged around those naked hips? A vision of Devlin laid on his back, smiling up at him, naked tummy so cute and slender, thick diaper wrapped around his waist, naked thighs and delicate toes, and it all seemed so real, nagging at his mind like a memory trying to place itself...
	And Devlin was speaking. “I didn’t know about this, though! It’s so cool to find someone else who wears! Are you up to anything at the moment? My place is two stops away, if you want to...you know...compare gear?”
	Squeaky, and barely audible, Erin replied, conscious thought having little to do with the sounds that came out of him. “S-sure.”
	Devlin’s fingers were suddenly entwined with his, tugging him upwards.
	“Wait, uh...I thought we were going to take the bus?”
	“We can walk. It’s not far.”
	Devlin’s paw stayed with his. It seemed so strange, to be walking along, holding paws, just like that, as if it were no big deal at all. Erin glanced sideways at Devlin, taking sneaky glances as they walked. He took life so easily. He just didn’t seem to worry about anything. Erin felt Devlin’s paw squeeze his. And now he was looking for the signs, he could see them: the thickness around his waist that didn’t seem to fit his physique, the slight legs-apart stride...and yes, the faint sound of shifting plastic. Devlin was wearing a diaper!
	Suddenly, a whole chunk of Erin’s embarrassment fell away, like a layer of snow on a roof, so thick and heavy and immobile, suddenly sliding off in one great mass. He had been so fearful of anyone seeing the diaper. But now Devlin had seen it, the one person he worried most about, and it turned out he was wearing one himself! He didn’t need to be afraid, not now, while he was with Devlin. Not about that, anyway...
	What was he going to think when he found it was glued on? When he learned Erin wasn’t into diapers, and hadn’t put it on himself?
	Images in his mind again. Devlin in his diaper, kneeling and smiling, laid on his tummy and looking back over his shoulder, standing against a wall with his head back, staring far away while his paw cupped his padded crotch. He looked good. Confident and happy, and innocently naughty, or naughtily innocent, in the pure white diaper. He looked good in Erin’s imagination. Why did it seem like it was a memory? The nagging feeling kept pulling at him.
	He realised he was blushing again. His stride was becoming difficult, thanks to his hardon, rocking with every step and rubbing into the crotch of the diaper. Maybe he did like diapers? At least...Devlin in diapers. Was this how one discovered a fetish? He gripped Devlin’s paw back, and when the pony looked at him he managed a shy smile in response.
	“Nearly there.”
	Devlin’s place seemed strangely normal, clashing with the uniquely strange situation they were in. Just another ordinary student digs.
	“Hi Nate,” said Devlin, cheerily waving to the leopard lounging in the living room. “This is Erin.”
	“H-hello,” said Erin. But he was already gone, tugged up the stairs by a suddenly energetic Devlin. They pushed into a room, coated in posters, piled with clothes. An ordinary, untidy student room. The fantasy of Devlin’s perfection eroded, and in its place the reality grew. He was real. Right here, holding his paw, flawed and ordinary and obtainable. He would have fears and concerns too, unlike the unblinking confidence of the Devlin of Erin’s fantasy. And maybe right now he was just as nervous about what Erin thought of him as Erin was?
	Devlin’s paw slid from Erin’s. And there, in front of him, he popped the button on his jeans and tugged them down a few inches, showing off the white bulge of the diaper beneath. Okay, so maybe not totally ordinary.
	“Want to show me yours again?”
	Erin nearly laughed. It was all so absurd! Like little kids showing each other their winkies in the playground! And in Devlin’s smiling face was the hint of that vulnerability. Of course it was there! He was leading the way, taking all the risks. Erin could reject him at any moment! He could have refused to come over. He could have spurned Devlin’s advances. He could...
	Oh wow, was Devlin coming onto him? Erin felt like smacking his head against a wall. Of course he was coming onto him! The number left in his phone, the smiles, noticing his diaper...hell, he must have been looking at Erin the first place, coming over to the bus stop like that...and then bringing him back here. It was so obvious and clumsy that the only reason he wouldn’t notice it is that Erin was a total and colossal idiot!
	“I, uh...” Erin flailed. How to tell Devlin that he was interested? That his hesitance to speak wasn’t due to rejection?
	Ah. There was one way. He opened up the coat and shrugged it off. It was a literal weight off his shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile. And once it had taken root on his muzzle, it grew unstoppably, into a big silly smile. He felt better. Standing there, in only his t-shirt and the big diaper, feeling like a little kid. Except Devlin was a little kid too, wearing his own diaper. And all the worries seemed to fade away.
	“Oh nice, it’s a Cuddles Deluxe! Those are really nice.”
	Devlin was close, very close. Their muzzles almost touched. And for a moment, Erin was gripped by a sudden urge to throw away all the nervousness and press their lips together in a kiss, just like in the fantasies. The moment felt tense and wonderful, and it almost seemed telepathic: he could see that same tension in Devlin.
	No...not tension. Anticipation. The pause at the peak of a rollercoaster, cresting just before the fall. The heavy stillness before rain. The hush in the crowd before the first wave of the conductor’s baton. He knew, without knowing why, that Devlin felt it. Together, their paws moved, Erin’s fingers settling onto Devlin’s waist, and Devlin’s onto his. Plastic dimpled underneath their fingertips, warm with the body heat from within. Their muzzles hovered close together, alongside each other. It was Erin who spoke first, the words falling out before his brain could reel them in.
	“You look good...padded.”
	It was as if this was the starting pistol shot that Devlin needed. Their cheeks pressed together. Devlin breathed against Erin’s ear.
	“So do you!”
	And the pony’s fingers moved on Erin’s waist, taking hold of the tapes on his diaper, gripping and pulling.
	“Wait...”
	With a ripping sound, the tapes tore away, and Erin felt the whole diaper loosen around his waist and slip down. He gasped and looked down. He could see down between the diaper and the fur of his tummy, right down to his hard and needy erection. Nothing sealing the diaper in place. No glue. Nothing!
	“Sorry,” whispered Devlin, his paws not moving, holding the diaper in place. “Do you want me to stop?”
	Erin could barely speak. He felt crazy again. What was this...magic? “N-no, it’s okay. You can...”
	Fuck it. If he was going to go crazy, then he was going to do it properly! He threw his paws up to cup the sides of Devlin’s head, stood himself up on his tiptoes, and pressed his lips against the pony’s mouth. For one, terrible moment he thought he had badly miscalculated, as Devlin’s mouth stayed tightly closed. But then his lips parted, and their tongues met, the ring in Devlin’s lip rubbed and tickled, and Devlin let go of the diaper and wrapped his arms around Erin’s waist, and the cat melted against him, mewling into the kiss, shamelessly pressing his erection against Devlin’s diaper.
	Days of staring and longing, fighting to think of how to say hello without seeming like a stalker or a freak. Glancing at him when it seemed like he wouldn’t notice, just enjoying the sight of his smile as he chatted with friends, then feeling awful afterwards, hating himself for being so shy, hating himself for standing in the way of his own happiness. If he could just figure out how to approach him, then he could find out either way...whether Devlin would like him back.
	Their legs nearly tangled together to trip them up. Devlin gripped his hips and squeezed, holding them together, drawing them backwards. Erin felt Devlin fall away from him, and let himself be drawn down too. The mattress creaked. The diaper crinkled. Erin brought his knees up onto the bed, awkwardly climbing up to straddle Devlin’s lap, feeling the diaper under his cock. Devlin’s paws moved, his hips wriggled, and the jeans slid away underneath Erin. Then the tear of diaper tapes. Still the kiss continued, hot and wet and clumsy and wonderful, lips smeared wet, teeth nibbling, tongues dancing, technique hopeless but enthusiastic, and nobody caring. The diaper disappeared between them, roughly tugged away, and Erin felt the fresh heat of flesh against the underside of his cock, and he mewled shakily into the kiss.
	Clicking the mouse. Wandering through pages. Nursing a warm, flat beer and feeling like a creep. Trish’s profile formed a jumping block, first to Devlin’s email address, then to a forum somewhere in the depths of the net, last updated years ago...seems Devlin was into fantasy gaming when he was younger...and then, armed with a user ID, he wandered other sites. Maybe Devlin used the same name in other places?
	And then the discovery. The profile page. The stats that matched. The humbly-worded description. The list of turnons and turnoffs. And the pictures. Devlin in his diaper. Kneeling and smiling. Laid on his tummy and looking back over his shoulder. Standing against a wall with his head back, staring far away while his paw cupped his padded crotch. Devlin the diaper-lover.	How had he forgotten that?
	Erin’s arms wrapped tight around Devlin’s shoulders. He broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together.
	“Devlin...you...” He trailed off into panting. Devlin’s fingers had closed around his cock, slick and wet. The wetness of lube, and fingers of the other paw now rubbing down the curve of his rear, probing in under his tail. Erin gasped. Devlin’s fingers froze.
	“Is this okay?” breathed Devlin. “Do you want me to...this I mean?”
	“Y-yes! Don’t stop!”
	There it was, right there in glowing pixels, the way to talk to Devlin. But how? He couldn’t just walk right up to him and say “Oh hi, I was perving on you on the internet and I found your profile, and you look good in diapers, wanna go out?”
	Or could he?
	No...that would be stupid!
	He drank the rest of the beer and fought a raging battle of questions and answers in his head. He could make his own profile on the site, message him maybe? Or find some subtle way of introducing himself? But he couldn’t just fake it...not the diaper kink, or the confidence to say hello. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He could learn everything there was to know about Devlin, every interest and scrap of information that could help him make a connection, but it was all useless if he couldn’t go up and say hello!
	What if Devlin was the one to say hello?
	Well, then he could be waiting for a million years for the chance to come along.
	He could...wear a diaper himself? Then maybe Devlin would notice it, and they could start talking, and...
	Yeah right! If he wasn’t confident enough to say hello to Devlin, then he definitely wasn’t confident enough to go out in public wearing a diaper!
	He drummed his fingers on the mouse, feeling trapped, sinking back into that familiar funk of self-loathing. His other paw tapped at the keyboard, randomly typing. Ycswertrww...
	And then he hit backspace.
	And typed “how to be confident”
	And the search engine threw up its millions of results. And repeated over and over in the results on the first page was one word.
	Hypnosis.
	Erin’s claws pricked into Devlin’s shoulder blades. He hissed and whimpered, screwing his eyes shut and turning his head to the side.
	“Sorry,” gasped Devlin. “I’ll slow down.”
	“N-no, it’s okay. Just...give me a moment.”
	The turmoil of confused revelation inside him and the pain and discomfort pressing into him...it was a chaos that would take weeks of sorting out to understand afterwards. He collapsed his head down against Devlin’s shoulder and mewled weakly, hoping he would remember all this. Slowly, it would start to make sense, he knew. Slowly, it would start to feel good. He eased his grip and relaxed against Devlin, and felt his arms wrap tight and reassuring around him. Gently, he let himself sink down a little further.
	“Easy,” whispered Devlin. “It’s okay, go slow. Is this your first time?”
	“Mmmhmm.”
	And then a laugh. Erin couldn’t help it. His shoulders shook.
	“What’s wrong?”
	“Nothing! I was just thinking...trust me to pick a fucking pony for my first time. Talk about starting at the deep end.”
	And now Devlin was laughing too. He eased away from Erin, laying back on the bed, leaving Erin kneeling upright straddling him. It was the fantasy reversed. The shy, nervous cat looking down at the smiling, confident pony. Erin rested a paw on Devlin’s tummy, bracing himself, slowly easing himself a little further down.
	“Does that feel better?” said Devlin. “Should be a better angle for you.”
	The pain was fading. He mewled and nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Much better.”
	Filling in the form. Clicking the tick boxes. Hesitating only a few times, spurred on by the confidence of alcohol and the anonymity of the internet. And then into the forum, full of those who want to be hypnotised and those who knew how to hypnotise, and here the two could match up to make a pair. And it didn’t take long to get the message.
	I think I can help you...
	You need to build your confidence, to be able to talk to this guy, to wear a diaper for him to notice...but it’s not so simple as you might think. It takes time to build up to it. Lots of practice.
	But, if you’re willing, we can try something...radical.
	He noticed the oddest things, considering the situation: sitting on the long, thick equine cock of the guy he’s been longing after for weeks. The posters on the wall caught his attention with the names of bands, the pictures of singers. He noticed a sticker of a smiley face on the glass of the window. He saw a pacifier on the table next to the bed. He wanted to laugh...it was all so wonderful!
	“You’re doing really well,” whispered Devlin. He looked flushed, smiling, looking just as happy as Erin felt. And so he should, with a tight virgin rear squeezing his cock!
	It was all starting to make sense now. And it felt so good. Slowly, savouring it now, Erin pressed his feet down into the bed and levered on his knees, easing himself up Devlin’s slick shaft...
	Ordering the diapers was easy. Shipping was free when you bought a whole pack. He tried one on in his room, blushing like crazy and hiding under the bedcovers, just in case someone came in. He took it off ten minutes later and hid it under the bed to be thrown away later, when it was dark.
	Then there was the rest of the pack, minus the one he would wear for the project...stashed away in his wardrobe, where he could see it...but would not see it.
	Hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, he had said. But when you want to, it can help you do so many things. It can change your perceptions. It can make you forget things, or remember things differently.
	You can...trick yourself into doing what you are too afraid to do, but so badly want to do.
	You don’t want to use the diaper. But that’s okay...
	Standing in the cubicle, bladder straining, desperate to pee. Leaning back against the door and closing his eyes. Finally giving in, letting it go...
	And then eyes opening again, stepping away from the wall, moving fluidly, eyes distantly staring. Moving in a trance. Opening up the coat and sliding fingers down into the waistband of the diaper, easily moving it away from the fur, freeing his cock and aiming into the bowl. Pissing away the discomfort so easily, leaving the diaper clean. And then flushing, and putting the diaper back in place...
	...and waking back up again to the trapped confusion.
	And now every memory, hidden away, could come back again, mission complete. Scissors held against the diaper plastic, quivering poised ready to cut, but with no pressure applied, only the memory, rather than the reality, of the strained exertion remaining. Desperate searching of the wardrobe for clothes, oblivious to the blind spot of the pack of diapers plainly on show mere inches away. Gripping the diaper tapes and then not pulling, gently sliding claws across the plastic with no pressure, sliding fingers down the waistband and stopping, held by an invisible barrier of willpower, forced to imagine an inability to proceed because he didn’t want to. And he didn’t want to remember.
	The one who had forced him into the diaper...was himself. And he wanted it, so very much.
	Devlin’s breathy moans were an audible aphrodisiac. They drove Erin to bob his hips faster, the lube making lewd, slick noises. The confusion in his head cleared away into pure clarity, and it was wonderful! He had taken charge of his life...albeit in a pretty convoluted and twisted way...and he had turned the fantasy into reality! Devlin breathed beneath him and throbbed inside of him. Those green eyes smiled up at him through a fog of lust, and he knew his own face was the same. He moved his paw to his cock, but felt Devlin brush it aside.
	“Mine,” he breathed.
	Erin groaned and sank down to the hilt as Devlin gripped around the base of his cock and started to pump, rubbing firmly over his flesh spines, making them flare and tingle. He forced himself to lift up, only slightly, giving himself the room to bob, rapid and shallow, riding the thick length deep inside him. Mewls and pants mingled. The air in the small room grew heavy with the stink of sweat and sex. Erin’s eyes clenched shut, and his fingers felt blindly across Devlin’s chest, taking hold of his t-shirt, pulling hard.
	“G-gonna cum,” he gasped.
	Devlin’s hips started to rock, thrusting in time with Erin’s bobbing. Faster and faster, and it was all too much. He tilted his head back and cried out, a noise worthy of porn. Devlin’s housemates would probably hear. Fuck, he didn’t care! In the exploding bliss of it all, heard almost distantly and faint, came Devlin’s rapid gasping and his own breathless cry of pleasure. The thick, slick, thrusting cock inside him swelled and plunged in hard, gushing a fresh heat into Erin as Devlin beneath him groaned in satisfaction. It was the trigger, taking Erin over the edge, and he shuddered bodily as his cock sent his cum flying in long arcs across Devlin’s chest, hitting the shirt, hitting Erin’s paw, hitting Devlin’s muzzle.
	Erin swayed for a few moments, dizzy and breathless, eyes slowly shuddering open, blinking as if waking up from a long sleep. He looked blearily down at Devlin, feeling delirious and exhausted. A warm fog of cotton wool filled him. He smiled and gave a little clench, watching as Devlin groaned under him. He eased himself up and forwards, separating with a wet slurp, and tried not to giggle as he lay himself down, draping against Devlin, bringing their muzzles to rest together, arms tangled up around each other, both listless and breathless and spent.
	“Simultaneous...orgasms,” Erin panted. “For my first time...wow. I’m lucky.”
	Devlin’s fingers danced down the small of Erin’s back, earning a satisfied mewl. “Me...too.”
	It took a few moments for Erin to process.
	“That was your first time? As well?”
	“Mmmhmm.”
	“No way!”
	Devlin murmured happily. “Way. And it was amazing.”
	Erin made sleepy noises of agreement. There wasn’t much thinking left to do. It could come later, as he picked apart the confusion of the day and re-remembered the order of events. And then there was all the stuff ahead of him, with Devlin. All the conversations to have, the things to learn and do. A relationship, maybe? Hopefully! In what form? Would they share interests? Would they get along? Would they...L-word? He was at the beginning of a very big mystery, and he couldn’t possibly predict what would come.
	But now he was overthinking again. So he smiled, and closed his eyes...and enjoyed the moment.