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By astrodiaper · Posted
Back to work this evening. I put on a Detective Marty for church Sunday, got no use out of it. 😔 I did get some use of the Kiddo Extreme white I put on that night. For my Monday morning walkk, I put on that previous Detective Marty, still got no use out of it. -
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“Exactly, sweetheart,” Azumi explained, “you have become one of magic happy toddlers, just like Aiko and Konyo.” -
Quick preamble: I was reading a story on Sofurry called Dedicated Diaperbitch (https://sofurry.com/s/pnGpANg1) in which a male wolf takes his slightly younger diaper-loving fox boyfriend to an orgy with three other male wolves where the fox becomes part of the pack by letting them all have sex with him. At one point, one of the other wolves mentions, "treating his pet well," and I thought, "Wait, does every wolf in this country have a diapered fuck-fox?" On further reflection, the other wolf's pet wasn't necessarily diapered, but anyways, it inspired me to make a story about a country where every wolf has a diapered fuck-fox, and somehow that situation isn't completely terrible. (Although if you're a fox who's just visiting...) Chapter 1 “And where's your wolf?” The vixen customs official asked. Tarkik considered himself a faithful fox. He was a heterosexual male, but he could appreciate the beauty of a vixen, even a red fox like this one and not an arctic fox like himself, without being tempted into infidelity against his wife and their two kits. He was, however, having trouble processing what the customs official had said because she was wearing a lanyard around her neck with her ID card attached, a disposable baby diaper that was quite visibly wet, and absolutely nothing else. “I'm sorry, what was that?” He asked. “As a fox, you're legally half a person,” the mostly-naked customs officer said. “The other half of your person is your wolf, who must accompany you at all times. I can't let you through without your wolf. Where is he?” There had been two seats on each side of the aisle of the train he had just arrived on, one large and one small. Tarkik had sat in one of the small ones and a caribou had taken the large one. In every other pair of seats, the small one had been occupied by a red fox and the large one by a wolf. He hadn't found anything suspicious about that at the time. He looked back at the line of travelers he was now holding up. Every fox was holding paws with a wolf of the same sex. Sometimes when the line stopped, a fox took the opportunity to remove all of their clothes until they were wearing only a disposable baby diaper before giving all the clothes to the wolf, who stashed them in a shoulder bag. Many of the foxes had already done this. Tarkik looked back at the customs officer, trying hard to focus on her face and not her diaper, or her exposed nipples. “I don't have one.” “Did you not research the laws of Wolfoxia before planning this trip?” She asked. “My former manager was supposed to come on this trip. He left the company on short notice and I was promoted into his position, so I inherited the trip.” “And he's neither a wolf nor a fox?” “He is a snowshoe hare.” The fully dressed wolf bitch in the same booth finished helping a wolf and fox combo at the window on the other side and came over to join Tarkik and the near-naked fox instead of beckoning another pair over. “So it's pretty obvious,” she said, “that when the constitution says, ‘fox,’ what it means is, ‘red fox who lived in the nation of Wolfia or Foxia, or the new nation resulting from their merger.’ But it doesn't say that, it says, ‘fox,’ and you're definitely a fox, and we have to enforce the law as written. How long is your business trip?” “Two weeks,” Tarkik answered. “That is technically long enough to make a federal case of it, but you might not have any time left for business, and it's really your company's responsibility since they sent you on the trip.” “So what should I do?” Tarkik asked. The topless vixen slid his passport back to him and pointed to a door. “Why don't you wait in the secondary inspection area while we process everyone else from the train, and we'll try to figure something out?” Tarkik took his passport and walked toward the door, dragging his rollaboard suitcase behind him, thankful it would give him a respite from looking at the vixen’s nudity. Tarkik laid on a bench in the secondary inspection room. He hadn't been able to reach anyone at his company by telephone and he didn't think he should call his wife and risk waking the girls when it would worry her without her being able to do anything, so he'd been trying to take a nap for about twenty minutes when the bitch and vixen entered. Changing the vixen's wet diaper had clearly not been a priority for them, which made Tarkik feel a little bit important. “We called your situation in to our head office, so if we're allowed to make an exception for you, they'll let us know,” the bitch said. “You're not in any trouble, but worst case, you'll have to sleep here and we'll send you home on the first train tomorrow.” “In the meantime,” the vixen continued, “you're probably curious about the wolf and fox thing.” “I'll be honest,” Tarkik replied, “I'm more curious why you're naked except for a diaper.” “It's the same reason,” the bitch said. “Okay, so a few decades ago, Wolfia was about to perform a sneak attack against Foxia. Foxian intelligence found out, and Foxia’s leaders contacted Wolfia’s military leadership and asked what it would take to end the war with no casualties.” “To be clear,” the vixen added, “Foxia had better technology. It thought it would win, but with many casualties on both sides. They wanted to know what those lives were paying for.” “Right,” the bitch continued. “Of course Wolfia thought it would win too, so the military leaders asked for everything. The first one figured they'd enslave every surviving fox, so they said, ‘Foxes will work for wolves.’ The second figured, ‘why not make the foxes sex slaves too?’ So they said, ‘Wolves can fuck foxes whenever they want.’ and the third... well, the best speculation is they wanted to humiliate the foxes, so they said, ‘Foxes will wear and use diapers, and they can't wear anything on top of them.’” “Presumably except for when they were being raped by wolves as part of proposal number two,“ the vixen interjected. “Oh, sure,” the bitch agreed. “I actually think the third wolf figured there was no way Foxia would accept the first two, so why not be absurd?” “I don't think any of them thought Foxia would accept, so they weren't careful with their wording,” the vixen said. “Obviously they weren't going to agree to what Wolfia meant, but what they did was announce to the surrounding countries, and they hacked Wolfia’s TV and radio stations to announce it there as well, that they had agreed to merge with Wolfia under some conditions Wolfia had proposed. First, foxes and wolves would be paired up by sex, as closely as possible by career and family, and the pairs would remain in each other's presence at all times.” “They had to avoid the foxes being sold, or trucked off to labor camps, or even left at home to do domestic labor,” the bitch chimed in. “It was possible a wolf would try to make their fox do their job, but would you hire a wolf to get their fox's labor when you could get a wolf and fox who would work together?” “Second, a fox is assumed to consent to sex with their wolf at all times,” the vixen continued. “You couldn't have wolves prostituting their foxes out,” the wolf explained. “They figured most wolves wouldn't actually want sex slaves, and most of the ones who did were heterosexual. Since the pairs would also be same sex, this meant the wolves could have sex with a fox whenever they wanted like the demand said, but they probably wouldn't, and the damage from the rapiest wolves would be limited.“ “And third,” the vixen concluded, “foxes would wear and use diapers, could not wear clothes on top of them, and it would be the responsibility of their wolf to change their diapers.” “That one was too specific to get around,” the bitch said, “but they were pretty sure whoever suggested it either didn't have kids or wasn't involved in raising them. Like, someone was going to have to change those diapers, and it was pretty obviously going to be wolves if they actually wanted it to get done.” “So they announced this like it was a done deal?” Tarkik asked. “Well they had a recording of the demands,” the bitch said, “so they could justify that they were satisfying them, but also, the other nations thought Foxia was insane to accept those terms. None of them, nor Wolfia's civilians for that matter, knew the sneak attack was being planned. Wolfia would look really bad for prosecuting an undeclared war against a nation that had agreed to be annexed under such unfavorable terms.” “And then Foxia countered the sneak attack without talking about it, and Wolfia couldn't admit they tried to go through with it and failed, so they just pretended the whole thing really was their idea in the first place,” the vixen said. “And you're not embarrassed to be naked except for the diapers?” Tarkik asked the vixen? “Why would I be?” She asked. Then she crouched down a few inches and scrunched up her face, and Tarkik heard the flump of her soiling her diaper. Then she stood up like nothing had happened. “Do you need your diaper changed?” The bitch asked her. “Yes, please,” the vixen replied. “Would you like your pussy ate?” The bitch asked. “Yes, please,” the vixen replied. “We're going to get her cleaned up,” the bitch told Tarkik as though he hadn't heard them candidly discussing the cunnilingus that was also going to take place. “We'll be back as soon as we hear something from head office.” As they walked out of the room, Tarkik watched the tail of the vixen swish back and forth. Below it, the lump of mess pulling down the seat of her diaper swished back and forth as well. He was not sure he wanted them to hear good news from their head office. They returned about fifteen minutes later with the vixen wearing a clean diaper. “Head office has come up with a solution,” the vixen said. “Normally when a fox dies, their wolf will ask to be euthanized, or vice versa. There is a male wolf in the city who didn't do that. Head office got in touch with him, and he’s agreed to be your Temporary Wolf for the next two weeks. He's on his way here now.” Tarkik was slightly concerned about whether his company's security would approve of a stranger accompanying him in the building, but he supposed anyone can sign a nondisclosure agreement. Suddenly he had a more worrying thought. “I don't have to let him have sex with me, do I?” He asked. “No,” the bitch said. “I mean, at your age, if you'd been paired at birth you would. It turned out that wolves and their foxes love having sex with each other, or at least ones that were paired at birth do, so they didn't need to assume consent, but there were legitimate reasons for a fox to say no, like having a perforated colon.” “He did survive,” the vixen added, “and his wolf was devastated to have hurt him just because he felt like he couldn’t say no.” “Anyways, the constitution was amended a few years ago so there's no assumption of consent between a wolf and their fox for new pairs after that date, and that would apply to you.” Tarkik was so relieved, he didn't think to ask the obvious other question about the situation. About half an hour after that, a lone wolf arrived carrying a shoulder bag like the one the other traveling wolves had been carrying. He introduced himself as Moon, but was otherwise quiet and withdrawn. There was a photo booth in the inspection area, and the customs officials took a photo of each of them and printed a temporary ID card that had both of their pictures on it. With that in paw, they were able to return to the customs booth in the now empty entry hall and Tarkik got his passport stamped for entry. “Welcome to Wolfoxia,” the bitch said. “Thank you,” Tarkik said, appreciative of their explanations and how late they had probably stayed on account of him. Now he was eager to check into his hotel. He was pretty sure the reservation was by the room, not the occupant, so it wouldn't be a problem for Moon to stay with him, though he hadn’t made the reservation so he didn’t know what the bed sizes were. “By the way,” the vixen said, interrupting his train of thought and pointing at a door, “there's a washroom over there where your wolf can change you into a diaper.”
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