Scoop The Poop

Depending on the state you live in.  New Hampshire, for example, is fine with you not having insurance - as long as you can self-pay if you get into a wreck that's your fault. 

Chapter 38 “Ouch!” Lucas yelped as the bristles worked their way through another knot in his hair.  “Goodness, Lucille, stop squirming!” Charlotte tutted, continuing to run the brush through, over and over again. She was making sure to eliminate every little tangle and crease.  “Mmmmn…” Lucas made an indistinct whining noise as he attempted to shuffle out of Charlotte’s lap - a futile effort, as he knew by now that the grip of an Amazon was stronger than any restraint. He was going nowhere.  She shook her head and continued brushing. “Mommy just needs to get your hair all nice and tidy, okay?”  He crossed his arms and pouted, looking ahead to the mirror before them. There, he saw himself all dolled up in his Mommy’s lap. He had been dressed in easily one of his most “Princessy” outfits - certainly since his official debut to the public. A flouncy white and pink dress, covered all over in frills and bows, with short, puffy sleeves and a skirt which did even less than usual to hide his diaper. He wore white socks which climbed up his thin legs, higher than usual, reaching his knees and ending in a lace trim. Pink Mary Jane shoes covered his feet and matched the hue of his dress. He saw his golden locks shimmering in the morning light. It had been steadily growing from the length that it was set to at the clinic, now reaching just past his shoulders when untied. It was the longest his hair had ever been, by far, and he found the sensation cumbersome and at times overstimulating. He could only hope that Charlotte had a limit to how long she wanted it.  “There, that should do it. Wasn’t so bad, was it, little miss fussy-pants?” He grumbled to himself as she got to work on styling his hair now that it was neater. He was already cranky from being woken up and bathed so early, and still a little woozy from his early breastfeeding and purée. Angie’s milk always sat in his tummy just a little rougher than Hazel’s - who knew different milk could make such a difference to his gut? “Where’re we going again?” He asked, the end of the sentence trailing into a yawn.  “Oh, it’s very exciting, baby,” Charlotte smiled, adopting the slower and more sunny tone she usually spoke to him with. “We’re going to a big building where lots of people work. One of them is a very nice woman named Miss Nichols. She’s going to be taking lots of pictures of you! Isn’t that fun?” “Pictures…? Why?” “Because you’re cute as a button!” Charlotte poked Lucas in his abdomen, near his armpit, prompting him to squirm around in her lap again and stifle a giggle. “Mommy could just eat you all up! Yes she could!” Charlotte allowed herself to indulge in full mommy-mode for a moment as she lifted Lucas into the air and began peppering his face with kisses - on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and a few strays on his lips, not that Charlotte seemed to mind. Getting kisses from an Amazon was one of his least favourite things in this dimension - there was something so unpleasantly smothering about a giant pair of wet lips pressing against you.  “Ah! Quit it!”  His protests were useless. He just had to wait for Mommy mode to subside.  “Angie?” Charlotte called out. Lucas was confused, as it was just the two of them in the nursery. Then he realised she was directing her call towards the baby monitor near his crib. “Will you come down and finish with Luci’s hair? I have to finish getting ready.” Suddenly the baby monitor made a chime, and through it came Angie’s voice, like a walkie-talkie. He didn’t even know it could do that. “Right away, your Highness!” She sounded like she was doing 5 things at once on the other end.  Charlotte planted one more lingering, wet kiss on his forehead and then plopped him unceremoniously into his playpen. She leaned down on the other end of the mesh and placed her hands on her knees to look down at his level, giving Lucas a clear view down the front of her dress to her cleavage.  “You sit tight for a minute, baby. Angie will be right down.” She smiled down at him and promptly took her leave from the nursery, shutting the door behind her. That was another quirk of Charlotte’s - even after he escaped from her (not so) watchful eye with Juliette, she seemed more or less content to leave him unsupervised, something Hazel almost never did. That being said, the playpen had long since proven itself to be near impossible to escape - though he had often wondered about building some kind of toy-ladder to escape.  He looked to his side. There, he saw his unicorn, Tiara, staring at him. He picked her up and looked into her sparkly eyes.  “Pictures of me… what kinda pictures? And what for?” He wondered aloud, though directed the question at Tiara.  She stared back silently… obviously. Not like she could respond.  Though for whatever reason, Lucas found himself imagining what she’d say if she could.  “Well, you are pretty famous!” Her voice was airy and whimsical. Or it would be… if she could talk.  “Don’t remind me.” “Everyone wants pictures with you, Lucille! Remember the zoo?” He thought back to how everyone stared at him, and those girls had the gall to come up and ask for a selfie with him. “Who takes a selfie with a baby?” He asked Tiara sarcastically. “…Not that I am one.” He started to imagine her response, a giggling quip, but then realised the irony in making that statement with what he was doing. He set Tiara on the ground next to him with a humph, upside-down on her head. Then, after a moment’s thought, he adjusted her so she was sitting upright.  “Hello, Princess!” Angie announced as she entered the room. She seemed slightly out of breath and had a thin layer of sweat on her brow, no doubt running around panicking about work as she usual did. She reached in to grab Lucas from the playpen, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as she leaned.  “Let’s get that pretty hair finished up!” — Angie, despite her nerves, was pretty good at styling hair. She had tied much of his hair into two tight braids, which wrapped around his head and were held against it by a headband, designed to appear like a Princess’s tiara, dotted with glittering rhinestones. It was a more involved and refined look than his usual pigtails, and he found the intricate ways his hair had been braided and tucked somewhat uncomfortable. Between that and the outfit, he was certainly looking among his most princessy today. As Angie carried him downstairs, he decided he had to know why.  “Miss Angie?” “Yes, Princess?” “Mommy said they’re taking pictures of me today… how come?” “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, your Highness. They just want to get some photographs of you being yourself, so people know what to get for their own babies.” “Huh?” “It’ll all make sense when we get there, Princess. Let’s just get you buckled… if I can find that darn strap…” Angie began to fumble around in the back seat of the limousine, struggling to find the right straps for Lucas’ car seat for several moments. He thought about her answer - from the sound of it, he was being photographed for some kind of public thing, like a campaign or advertisement. Surely that couldn’t be the case… they were celebrities, yes, but they were royals. Wasn’t there some kind of rule against that? It had to be something else. He could only hope.  “There it is!” Angie breathed a sigh of relief. She brought the buckle to the centre of Lucas’ chest, and clicked in the first strap, running along his waist, and then the second, which went up between his legs. The three-point strap ensured he was tightly secured in the car seat, and Angie and Charlotte took their seats in the back alongside him shortly afterward.  Lucas yawned again as the car started moving. “How long will it be?” He asked the two Amazons.  “We don’t know, sweetie.” Charlotte leaned forward and popped a pacifier into Lucas’ mouth - this one was again more ostentatious than his usuals, boasting a large pink gemstone on the shield. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” “Bu’ I’m tiiiwed…” he whined.  Charlotte glanced at Angie and flashed her a quick gesture with her hand. Angie unzipped the diaper bag sitting on the seat next to her and rummaged about in it for a few moments. After a moment of building nerves, she retrieved Lucas’ tablet, screen illuminated in its bright rubber case.  “You want your tablet, Princess?” She asked.  Lucas eyed it for a moment, and one glimpse of the app display was enough for him. He reached out his hands and began making grabby motions. “Tabwet!” The rest of his car trip was spent playing a game about matching animal sounds to the correct animals.  — Hazel tapped her fingers nervously on the table. She looked around - nobody yet, save for the other customers. She sat alone at a table of an Avalir breakfast cafe, having opted for the outdoor patio to take advantage of the sunshine forecast for that morning. She was dressed in casual attire, similarly to how she dress on her trip to the zoo, and felt no more comfortable in it than she did that day. It was strange how much she had come to feel like her work uniform was like a safe space for her.  She checked her phone - 9:13am. They were late, as always. Why were they always so late? Hazel had been there early. It wasn’t hard.  Just after she checked her phone, it buzzed. The screen illuminated with a text.  Olivia: heyyy we’re running a little late !! did u get table ? She rolled her eyes. Typical of them to text that they were running late after already being nearly 15 minutes late. She typed a reply.  Hazel: Yes I’m waiting Olivia: okay be there soon ❤️ She locked her phone. It was hard to believe she and Olivia were sisters sometimes… Hazel was composed and driven, but Olivia was… not. She loved her, of course, but it was clear the two had little in common… which was sort of the case for all of her family, really.  Finally, at 9:36, Olivia arrived - though Hazel heard her before she saw her.  “Hazel! Over here!”  She turned her head to greet her sister. Olivia had brown hair like Hazel, though she kept hers shorter, almost in a bob cut. She was wearing large sunglasses with rose gold frames and a stylish outfit - boots, skirt, neat leather jacket. Olivia was always a bit of a fashionista.  Behind her, and dressed far more modestly in a cardigan and long skirt, was Hazel and Olivia’s mother, Evelyn. Her hair was longer like Hazel’s, with streaks of grey running through the deep brown. Her face had subtle crow’s feet, laugh lines - the kinds of wrinkles which tell you a person has had a good life. Hazel rose from her seat to greet them, and the three women exchanged hugs. “Hi, mom. How was the flight?” “Oh, not too bad. Traffic out of the airport was a little crazy though…” “That’s the big city for you,” Olivia replied, then turned to Hazel. “How’ve you been? Me and mom saw you on the TV! Some debut show they put on, huh?” “You looked lovely, dear.” Evelyn added. Olivia nodded. “Uh-huh. Very professional, as always. I still can’t believe they have you in that old-fashioned maid’s getup, though.” “Well, it’s tradition, so…” Hazel answered.  Olivia placed a hand on Hazel’s arm. “Me and mom have been DYING to hear all of the work gossip! You’ve barely called since the new royal landed.” Hazel nodded. “Yes, work has kept me busy, but I’m doing very well. But, uh, how about we order first?” “God, I’m starving. I’ve had nothing but airplane food. Gag.” Olivia opened the menu and stared at the options ravenously. “Yes, we can talk about work after… it’s just so good to see you again, Hazel.” “You too, mom.” Hazel smiled. Things were going well so far… she just had to hope they’d stay that way.  — “Time to put the tablet away, sweetie!” Charlotte grabbed the tablet from Lucas’ hands and he watched as it was put back inside the diaper bag. It felt like he’d barely had any time on it at all, and he had half a mind to start whining for more. Unfortunately, the limo came to a stop shortly afterward, and he was unbuckled from the seat and lifted out by Charlotte.  Angie pulled a handkerchief from her blouse pocket and wiped the layer of drool which coated his chin after his play session.  Lucas rubbed his eyes in a bit of a stupor after. Thoughts bubbled in his head. Where are we again? Where’s Nana? I’m tired. My dress is pretty. Sparkles! I miss my tablet. I miss Nana. I’m tired. At least Mommy is soft today… Waiting for them in the VIP parking area was a young man, trendy by the looks of it - his hair was gelled, his ears pierced and his designer clothes were very well tailored. He approached Charlotte and Angie, flanked by assistants behind him. Likewise, the ever-present royal security detail made their own presence known as they parked next to the royal limo.  “Welcome, your Highnesses, welcome! It is an honour to have you as our guests. My name is Sebastian, and I’ll be showing you around, as well as introducing you to Miss Nichols and all the rest of the CrinkleCare team. If there’s anything I can get for you, please do not hesitate to let me know.” “Lovely to meet you, Sebastian. This is Angie, my assistant for the day.” Angie curtsied as best she could with the added encumbrance of the diaper bag slung around her.  “And this little lady must be our star for the day! It’s an honour, Princess Lucille.” Lucas suddenly stopped staring into space to meet this stranger’s gaze.  “Say hello to Sebastian, Lucille!” Charlotte bounced him to attention, and he broke from his dreamy haze, snapping back into reality like waking up from a waking nap.  “Um… hewwo.” He spoke from behind his jewelled pacifier and waved meekly.  “She’s simply darling. If you’re all ready to go, I would love to get things started. Please, right this way.”  Sebastian and his entourage led the way, and the royals and their entourage followed. Lucas was at the centre of it all, and it was one of those rare moments where he truly felt his status. Surrounded by a reception party, a maid, and very serious looking security guards, all while covered in gemstones and a dress that probably cost more than his entire life savings in his home dimension. Life really comes at you fast… They made their way from the parking area to the front lobby of the building they were in. It was vast and had a modern decor, with large sculptures hanging from the ceiling. Lucas looked up in awe - it felt like seeing the castle for the first time again, only with a sleek modern edge.  “This building is the beating heart of the entire CrinkleCare operation - along with all other companies under the Cradle International umbrella. When it comes to the  Little care industry, we pride ourselves in being second to none.” Sebastian narrated to the group as they moved through the lobby, acting as a kind of corporate tour guide.  “Little care industry”. Those words were more than a little unnerving for Lucas. Here he was, stranded in this foreign dimension and at the mercy of people who he didn’t know, and he was apparently part of an “industry”. Like he was just some object, a commodity. He shuddered a little bit, instinctively gripping Charlotte’s dress a little tighter for security. Charlotte was too engrossed in the tour to notice.  “Yes, I saw CrinkleCare’s name come up more than a few times when I was first researching adoption. And several other Cradle companies, as well. You have quite a reputation!” “Indeed we do, and one that was hard earned. And our operations are not solely commercial - we also have a charitable branch, First Steps, which helps match Littles who are unfortunate enough to be out in the world without caretakers to homes that will keep them safe.” This was just getting better and better. Although dressed up in flowery language, everything Sebastian just said sounded like some kind of kidnapping service. He knew by now that this world had an even uglier side to it that he - mercifully - had not been exposed to. Being here, and hearing this, was making him feel closer to it than he had in some time. He felt his heart beat faster had his hands grow clammy. He gripped Charlotte’s dress tighter, and began to bury his face in her neck (despite her powerful perfume), to at least feel for a moment like he was safe from all of it.  “Poor things… I can’t even imagine.” Charlotte squeezed her Little a bit tighter. “It sounds like you do wonderful work here.” This was going to be a long day, Lucas thought.  — This was going to be a long day, Hazel thought. Breakfast had come, they had eaten, and already Olivia was getting on Hazel’s case.  “So, tell us about work!” “Work… is work. It’s good.” “Work is work… hello, Hazel! You work for the King and Queen! That ain’t nothing. You don’t have any juicy gossip?” “I’ve been working for the royal family for years! There’s not really anything left to tell.” “Barely!” Olivia scoffed. “You’re sooo bad at calling. And we see you like, once a year, max.” “Now, Olivia, that’s enough. Hazel works very hard, no need to prod her about it.” “Thank you.” Hazel sighed.  “And honestly, that hard work got us through some very hard times. All that money you sent home… I really can’t thank you enough.” “It wasn’t that much, mom…” Hazel blushed. She knew that this topic would come up. She hated the spotlight, the attention.  “It made a big difference at the time, I’ll tell you that much… I had no idea how I was going to keep things afloat after your father passed. You getting that job was a real lifeline.” “Really, it’s okay.” There was a silence as they finished up the rest of their breakfast. But true to form, Olivia broke that silence.  “But I bet the new royal keeps you on your toes, huh?” Hazel sighed. “Most of my duties relate to the Princess, yes.” Olivia continued. “A Little in the royal family… wild times we live in. Feels like when we were kids the royals wouldn’t have been caught dead near one.” “I think it’s lovely.” Evelyn interjected. “Even if they come from elsewhere, Littles should be treated like anyone in the kingdom… within reason, of course.” “Yes, I agree. And thankfully, Queen Charlotte is also very forward-thinking on the matter.” Hazel nodded.  “What’s she like? The Princess, I mean.” Olivia asked. That was a complicated question.   “Oh, she’s wonderful. Attentive, playful…” “…Smelly, I bet.” “Olivia!” Evelyn tutted at her daughter.  “What? She’s a baby! Am I wrong?” She wasn’t wrong, Hazel thought, but something about the attitude always irked her. Olivia had a way of taking nothing seriously - and normally, that was something she could deal with. But Little care, and caring for the Princess especially, was something that Hazel took very seriously. Although Olivia clearly recognised that Hazel did an important job, her sister’s little jabs and immaturity about it always rubbed her the wrong way. “It’s alright, mom. To answer your question, Olivia, yes, she’s a baby, and yes, she poops. So I change her. It’s not a big deal.” Olivia mock-gagged. “Couldn’t be me. They’re cute from a distance, but I’m in no hurry to get my hands dirty. My friend Courtney’s roommate got a Little - Rowan or something. This one time we were going out for drinks, getting ready at her place, and he messed himself and started crying. I nearly did too, he stunk up the whole apartment!” She laughed at her own anecdote, which Hazel didn’t find particularly amusing. It’s not like Littles can help it… “Well someone’s gotta do it. Doesn’t bother me one bit.” Hazel said flatly.  “That’s right. And you didn’t exactly smell like a bunch of roses when you were a baby, Olivia.” Evelyn remarked. “Yeah, but you potty trained us, mom. Try doing that for a Little.” “True, they are different… my retired friend Janice adopted one recently. She was cute as a button, but she was a real biter. A quick trip to the doctor fixed that. Although she still tries to gum you.” “Sounds like grandma.” Olivia replied, and she and Evelyn shared a laugh, but Hazel didn’t join in.  “How is grandma?” Hazel asked, wanting to get off the subject of her job.  “Not bad. Her hip is still troublesome, but the retirement home is doing wonders!” “Another perk of Hazel’s diaper changing money.” Olivia snarked.  Hazel sighed. So much for getting off that topic… “Can we just talk about something else?” She asked.  “Alright,” Evelyn began, suddenly changing posture and looking Hazel in the eye. “So… when are you going to find a boyfriend?” Oh god. This again.  — “Okay, now that you’re all comfortable, feel free to wait here until Miss Nichols is ready for you. She should be here to greet you all shortly.”  Sebastian and his team left the room after giving a bow to Queen Charlotte and Princess Lucille. That left them, alongside Angie and a single royal security guard at the door, alone in the lounge. It was stocked with all of the essentials while the waited to get started - a full fridge, TV, couches, and a spacious playpen for Lucas. Angie placed him into it and switched on the TV for him. Pippy & Pals, of course.  Meanwhile, Charlotte began sipping on some of the complimentary wine that had been left out, some expensive vintage no doubt. Lucas watched as she enjoyed herself. It got him thinking - all of this commotion, the welcome party and the fancy lounge, was all for him, yet he couldn’t enjoy it. It was unfair, like everything else.   But Lucas, partially from his lack of sleep and partially from his tablet session earlier, was feeling feisty. He was feeling like if he wanted something, he should have it. Then he remembered back to a few days ago, after his ballet recital. When he was riding the high of his performance, he remembered thinking to himself - if he was a Princess, why couldn’t he capitalise on it? Why couldn’t he be a spoiled brat? Make demands because he can? It’s only fair.  Alright then. They wanted a Princess, they’d get a Princess. Today, there’s no Hazel. Angie is a nervous pushover, and Charlotte is frequently inattentive. This was the perfect time to test the theory. To see what he could get away with, as long as the Bigs felt like they were getting what they expected from him.  The whole plan reminded him of Juliette - or “Ninja Turtle” - on their secret mission together. Her confidence, her adventurousness - in a way, he’d come to admire Juliette. She was small, like him, and often taken not very seriously, like him, but she was undaunted. Unapologetically herself, and uncompromising in her mission to just have fun.  He figured he should continue the tradition and give his plan a codename... Operation Prissy. Something like that. Lucas began stacking wooden blocks with letters on them as he mulled away this new plan of his. It was going to be a thin line to walk, being demanding while still acting the way they “expected” him to behave. He tried to spell “Prissy” with the blocks as he stacked them, though in Amazon script it said in actuality “Plrihhu”. His spelling clearly still needed work.  A knock at the door sounded. The security guard at the door looked through the peephole, then after a moment, unlocked the door to allow in whoever stood beyond it. The door opened, and from outside a woman in a neat, professional blazer and skirt entered the lounge. Her hair was immaculately styled, and elements such as earrings, a necklace, and makeup gave her a striking presence. She gave a low bow, executed with all the right posture, before the royals.  “Your Highnesses, warmest welcomes to CrinkleCare. I’m Trisha Nichols, chief of marketing. I’ll be running today’s shoot… I can’t tell you how excited we are to have her Highness on board… it’s going to be simply fabulous.” That was fast… guess Operation Prissy is in motion.

I know it has been about four and a half years since this story has last had an update but I am hoping that it may get continued at some point

My wife and I were out of town from Wednesday to yesterday (Saturday) evening which made me realize how much I dislike going potty in the toilet, and missed the convenience of diapers in general. Now that we are home and it is Sunday morning, my Little Kings diaper is very wet and now messy. "Diaper Order" has been restored, sooo nice to be sitting here with a warm poopie in my diaper...

Chapter 11 “In my country, a single doe’s fertility belongs to the community,” Petunia explained as they walked toward the hotel. “A married doe’s fertility belongs to her husband.” “That’s awful,” Moon said, and while Tarkik agreed, he thought that disapproval was a bit rich considering Moon had chided him for not respecting Wolfoxia’s customs, although it had at least recently fixed its own consent problem. “It’s not as bad as it was,” Petunia continued. “My grandmother told me in her day they’d annul your marriage if you didn’t pop out enough food litters.” “You don’t have those now though, right?” Tarkik asked. “You can still declare a litter as food. They’ll electrobotomize them at birth, and you just have to nurse them until they’re weaned, then drop them off and they take care of the rest.” “They still eat rabbit in Arborea?” Tarkik asked. “They don’t here or in Arctica?” “Fish and Meatfruit,” Moon said. “Same,” Tarkik said. “We have to import the Meatfruit because it’s too cold to grow it.” “Developing Meatfruit definitely helped, but we only have enough to export to you because some of our predators still prefer warm flesh.” Tarkik suddenly felt complicit in a system that disgusted him. “Anyways, that’s why every doe tries to get married before she turns eighteen, so there’s no window for someone to claim your fertility for the community. Not that the bucks care about the community, they just want to nut, but that’s their excuse. And it wasn’t going well for me, and then the day before my birthday someone from one of my classes proposed to me. I don’t think we’d ever talked. But he gave me a simple ring,” she held out her paw with an unadorned steel wedding band, “and we went to city hall after class to make it official.” “So why do you want to cheat on him?” Tarkik asked. “My husband prefers the company of bucks,” she said. “We have a deal. I work, he doesn’t. He gets to have sex with any guy he wants to, and the ring he gave me means I don’t have to have sex with any guy I don’t want to. It may not be the best deal, but it’s better than no deal. But it means I’m a thirty year old virgin, which is insane for a rabbit. I’m so frustrated I use an internal vibrator all the time, which doesn’t even help that much, and I can’t have sex with anyone of any species in Arborea because they do still get on your case if they find out your marriage is a sham. Like, divorce is not optional. I figured this trip was my chance to get laid without news making it back home.” They were arriving at the hotel. “Now I wasn’t expecting all the foxes to be wearing diapers, but I could have gotten past that, except the foxes here don’t need to have sex with me because they just have sex with their wolf, and everyone else at the summit is taller than us. So what do you think?” Tarkik had a worrying realization. “I’m married, and mine isn’t a sham,” he said. “But you’re not wearing a ring! Why didn’t you say so sooner?” “Rings aren’t common in Arctica because of the cold,” Tarkik said. “And I thought maybe you meant Moon.” Moon apparently didn’t think she meant Moon, because he suddenly snapped to attention. “Gods, he is a lot bigger than me. I already thought a fox would be a stretch. But I do have lube for the vibrator, and we can always stop if it doesn’t fit. Moon, what do you think? Would you like to try having sex with me?” Moon’s face said he wasn’t sure, but Petunia’s expression was pleading and Tarkik’s was encouraging. “Sure, I guess,” he said.   Since Petunia’s room was sized more comfortably for a rabbit, she followed Tarkik and Moon to theirs. On arrival, she stared at the extra furniture in the room as she put her laptop bag by the door. “Okay, I get the changing table,” she said, “but why is there a crib in here?” “Idunno, foxes sleep in cribs,” Moon said. She didn’t seem satisfied by that. “It’s the right size for a fox, and the mattress is covered in plastic in case their diaper leaks.” “You can get plastic covers for regular mattresses,” Tarkik pointed out. “Wouldn’t wolves who wet the bed need those?” “Wolves small enough to wet the bed probably haven’t moved out of the crib yet,” Moon asserted. “You know what, never mind,” Petunia said, reaching down to the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head, revealing vinyl underwear with double elastic around the legs, waist, and tail. The pink battery pack for her vibrator was clipped to the front waistband. “I didn’t know rabbits wore diapers too,” Moon said. “What are you talking about?” Petunia asked as she dumped her dress on the floor. “These are underwear.” She started toward the washroom. “Let me just dump the turds out in the toilet,” she said. Moon stared at Tarkik, unsure why she had contradicted him. “They poop a lot of times a day, but they’re dry, and they don’t wet them, so they’re not really diapers,” Tarkik explained quietly. It was the kind of thing you learn in elementary school the first time you have a rabbit or hare in your gym class, but Wolfoxia was overwhelmingly populated by just the two canine species, so apparently Moon never had. The toilet flushed, and Petunia returned from the washroom, grabbing a small plastic bottle from her laptop bag on the way to the bed. “Okay, pants off, let’s see what we’re cramming inside me,” she said. “Tarkik, would you mind giving us some privacy?” “I don’t think I can,” Tarkik said. Petunia was unconvinced. “I’m not going to use the toilet, but you can see how they’d be suspicious of a fox being in there without their wolf to make sure, right?” “There isn’t really such a thing as privacy between a wolf and their fox,” Moon added. “You’re married, though.” Petunia asked. “I’m not doing anything,” Tarkik said. “I could look away. Or, would it be helpful to both of you if I made sure everything that happened was what you consented to?” “Even if I was from a country that thought my consent mattered,” Petunia said, “I don’t think a consent witness is something anyone has worried about. And are you really independent if your wolf is one of the participants?” “He won’t be my wolf in two weeks,” Tarkik replied.  Petunia looked at Moon, who didn’t seem upset by this suggestion, which she took some reassurance in. “Okay. Moon, let’s get you lubed up.” Tarkik pulled himself onto the bed and sat on the corner while Moon pulled down his trousers and boxers, presenting his penis to Petunia. “Yes, we are going to need this,” she said, squirting a dollop of lube from the bottle into her paw, then applying it to Moon’s penis thoroughly, but carefully, not wanting to end things before they began. She then pulled her underwear down to her thighs, pulled the vibrator bulb out of herself by its power cord, and dropped it in the crotch of the underwear. She inserted her still-lubed fingers into herself a few times, then pulled her underwear the rest of the way down and stepped out of them. She turned toward the bed, then realized she would get the lube from her paw on the bedspread. Moon went to the changing table for a wet wipe, then returned to the bed and used it to clean the lube off Petunia’s paw as best he could. She pulled herself onto the bed, laying face down with her hindquarters hanging off the end. “Can you face up?” Moon asked. “Like, toward me?” “My sensitive spot is on the front, and yours is on the underside,” Petunia said, “so this way aligns our incentives.” Moon took a deep breath, then aimed the tip of his penis at the entrance to her vagina with his paw. “You’ve only ever had anal sex, right?” Petunia asked suddenly, and he stopped what he was doing. “Yes,” he replied. “Just remember you’re not doing that now,” she said. “I know,” Moon replied. He touched the tip of his penis to her sex, then realized he no longer knew what to do with his paws and decided to place them on the edge of the bed. He took another breath, then pushed gently into her. Tarkik didn’t actually worry that Moon would do anything to harm Petunia intentionally. His main concern was that he would harm her unintentionally, and having someone to tell him that was happening so he could stop immediately would be a service to both of them. He assured himself that as long as he didn’t enjoy himself, he wasn’t cheating on his wife, and he was pleased to find that he did not get aroused inside his diaper at the sight of Moon filling Petunia gradually with his maleness. “Ooh! I think that’s as deep as you can go,” Petunia said. Moon had barely inserted himself past his glans, but as requested, he reversed course, slowly pulling himself out until there was hardly any of himself left in her, then gradually pushing back in. Tarkik wondered whether a rabbit’s vagina or a fox’s colon was more fragile, then wondered whether he should wonder that. Whichever it was, Moon seemed to be using his experience in the latter to motivate his sex with the former. His thrusts were precise and methodical, and Tarkik observed Petunia’s face closely for signs of pain. She did close her eyes and clench her fingers briefly, but she quickly relaxed them. Tarkik turned his attention to the business end. There was no blood on Moon’s penis, and he didn’t see any sign of prolapse, so other than any long-term stretching, it seemed Moon wasn’t doing any harm, which Tarkik was glad for, because Moon clearly hadn’t had any sex since Sun died, and getting a chance to have it with a willing partner for the first time in years must be making him happy. So sure was Tarkik of that that his attention was directed only on Petunia, until by chance he glanced up and saw something he should have noticed sooner. “Moon, are you crying?” he asked.