
Sprint for
yurika400 in which we get to see what has happened to his otter character since his room-mate discovered his diaper fetish.
Find the first part HERE!
Like what I write? Well, I happen to have a magic portal that makes your dreams come true when you offer it a sacrifice! Access it HERE!
Please comment and tell me what you think!
Story Text: (Download for better formatting)
Further Consequences:
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Archie whined, sulking a bit and banging on the bars of his crib before huffing, pouting, and sitting back on his soggy, heavily padded rear, arms crossed like a fussy toddler. It had been two months since Bren, in her infinite desire to manipulate others, had caught the twenty one year old otter red handed in his bedroom, naked but for his diaper, and, to top it off with a cherry, gotten five minutes or more of flawless video proof. Two months since the tabby cat, his room-mate and high-school friend, had used what she had gathered to blackmail him into whatever humiliation she saw fit, gradually but steadily stretching his comfort zone until he was living, as he was now, as little more than a diaper dependent three year old in the body of an adult male.
He wiggled in his squishy, well used diaper. It was a Saturday morning, and he had slept very deeply the previous night. One of the disadvantages, Archie had quickly found, with being in diapers all the time was that one quickly grows accustomed to simply peeing whenever they felt the need. Do that for a few days, a week, a month, two months, and you stop even thinking about it. It becomes reflexive, and, by this point in time, Archie found it hard to hold his bladder even a little bit unless he focused his entire mind on keeping dry. Naturally, diapers had quickly gone from something he had been forced into to, to something he outright needed. There would be many a wet pair of brown trousers and perfectly folded set of sheets if he were to back out, now.
“I’m here, pumpkin,” Bren said, smiling warmly as she always did in the morning, and entering what had once been his bedroom. Bren looked around her custom-built nursery. It hadn’t been cheap, but certainly it had been worth it. She had replaced Archie’s bed with the crib that he now spent his nights in, replaced all his furniture with the cubby equivilant, and painted the room to be as bright and colorful as a cub deserved. There had been a noticeable positive shift in his mood, after that had happened, and Bren was all and all for that. “How did you sleep, sweetie?” she said, leaning against the bars of Archie’s crib and grinning beams at him.
“Wet… again,” the otter murmured, still a little hesitant to forgo his potty training completely. He watched as the tabby’s grin grew wider, and she nodded twice before making a gesture with one finger that was the universal symbol for come here. He sighed, bowing to the inevitable, and crawled over, letting his mommy check his diaper through the bars.
“My, my, you’re totally soaked! I’m surprised you didn’t leak all over the bed. We’re going to need to get you some thicker sleep diapers, cutie,” she said, loving the fussy and blushing facial expressions that Archie made when she teased him. It was good to keep him a little off balance, much easier to play with someone, that way.
“Hehe… yeah,” Archie replied, scratching the back of his head as Bren lowered the bars to his crib before taking him by the hand and leading him out. The otter’s stance, clad in nothing but his pampers, was wobbly to say the least. He had gotten better at walking in the diapers, given that he was now wearing them 24/7, but that didn’t change the fact that the best anyone could manage in a diaper two inches thick between the legs was a waddle. Case closed.
The routine long having been established, Archie toddled over to the changing table, which had been installed right into the wall below his window. Nominally it was so he could get some sun, and look outside while he was changed, but everyone knew it was so that he had no privacy, not even during his most sensitive moments.
Archie layed down on the table and sighed, wiggling in his dinosaur printed diaper and waiting for his mommy to get the cool, damp diaper off of him so that he could get into something dry and snug, again, the one he was wearing starting to sag bad enough that it might even have leaked, if it were given the chance.
“Awww, lookit my little piddle pup. Who’s a squishy little fella? Who’s a squishy little fella?” Bren asked, sporting one of the thickest diapers that Archie had ever seen along with the rest of his changing supplies, and continued cooing at him, setting down all the stuff and tickling his exposed belly and toes in turn. Changing table hijinks were one of the things that Archie absolutely loved about being a baby. He had had a crush on Bren for as long as he could remember, ever since they had met in high school, but he had never imagined something so perfect, so pure and beautiful would happen between them as the mother and child relationship that had quickly developed, once Archie had lowered his defenses and let the cat in, of course.
Brenda purred, slowly scratching around Archie’s neck and belly with her claws, watching the otter’s eyes as he drifted about on a sea of ecstasy, his perception of pleasure having changed drastically since his acceptance of his new role. The tabby kept up her endless stream of cooing as she changed her stead, tearing the tapes on his diaper and pulling the soaked and ruined pamper out from under him before disposing of it in the long prepared receptacle and letting him air out for a while. Archie gave his mommy a cutesy smile, sticking his tongue out of his short, otter snout, to which Bren replied in kind before tickling him a bit more, just to remind him affectionately of who was boss.
A few more minutes of idle play passed, and Bren picked up Archie’s rear by the ankles, letting him down only after she slipped the heavily stuffed diaper under his legs and powdered him down with a fountain of the sweet smelling talc. Archie reveled in the warmth and affection that his caretaker showed him during the diaper change, massaging the talcum into his fur and pulling the thick pamper up around his waist before snugly taping it in place.
“There we go, pumpkin, now let’s get some clothes on you,” the tabby said, her tail trailing her as she worked her way through Bren’s new wardrobe which consisted of baby clothes, toddler clothes, and the clothes of a very small child. Naturally, Archie loved the treatment, and babbled with delight as his mommy pulled out a dinosaur printed green T-shirt and a pair of short denim jeans. She handed him his clothes, he had the privilege of dressing himself as long as he was good, and he quickly pulled them on over his diaper as much as possible, looking at himself proudly in the mirror. “Such a big boy you are. How about we get you something to eat so you grow up big and strong?” she said, the ritual words for breakfast, and led him out and into the kitchen, where his high-chair was already set up, a bowl of steaming oats and cranberries waiting for him on the counter.
The otter enthusiastically climbed into his high-chair, letting Bren snap down his tabletop and lock it in place, strapping him down to minimize the cubby otter’s unnecessary movements. Archie, of course, was well used to being fed his breakfast by this point, and opened his mouth happily for every bite of gooey, fruity hot cereal. He preferred pancakes, but also knew that he wouldn’t get his favorite breakfast by complaining, that was for sure, and Bren liked to hang on things like that.
As he finished his gleeful eating, Bren stepped back to examine the slew of food that had somehow found its way all around Archie’s grinning face and splattered onto his Sesame-Street bib. She snickered a bit, said, “such a messy eater,” and proceeded to wipe the wiggly twenty one year old cub down with a rag before unbuckling him from the chair and letting him down. Both of them grinned sheepishly as the microwave rang out its notes, Bren walking over and removing the two liter nursing bottle filled with hot milk from the microwave. They had talked about bottle feeding since the beginning, but had only recently added a session to their daily routine. Archie absolutely loved the connection they made as she gave him his baba, but it was a bit outside both of their comfort zones, still. Nevertheless, Bren took Archie by the paw and led him into the den, sitting down in their brand new lounge chair and instructing the otter to lay down sideways, just like a baby.
Archie blushed furiously, grinning, but did as he was told, squinting and wiggling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable. “Ya’ ready?” Bren asked, the tabby leaning over and rubbing her head against the otter’s with all the love and warmth that she could muster.
“Mhm, I thing’ so…” Archie said, his speech having suffered a bit from the long nights, and sometimes days, too, with the rubber nipple of his Nuk5 pacifier stuffed into his maw. He loved it, of course, often suckling on it compulsively to deal with stress, anxiety, anger, fear, or anything else, really. It had become his security blanket, and he really didn’t know how he had gotten along before it.
“Alright, cutie, bottoms up,” Bren said, beaming down at the little otter, her pride and joy, and, supporting his head on one arm, popped the bottle’s latex nipple between his lips. Archie started suckling instantly, having long re-acquired his suckle reflex from all the days upon days he had spent with a pacifier in his mouth, lately. Not only was he a master suckler, now, as good as any newborn, Archie couldn’t really even stop himself at this point. Sucking on a nipple like object, especially if it excreted warm, thick, sweet milk, had become a compulsion for him. He got anxious without it, but, when he did have something to nurse on, he was the happiest cub in the world.
The two liters of milk went down Archie’s gullet in record time, who, belly full now of unrefined milk and oats with berries, was dopey and drowsing from the unfiltered hormones in the milk. He wiggled in his diaper and baby clothes, cooing up at his mommy, who slowly ebbed him off of her and back onto his feet. A little off balance, Archie stumbled and went down onto his hands and knees on the carpeted living room, not an uncommon sight, given that his playpen was in the corner. But the play pen was not his destination today. No, today was special. Bren had pulled some strings, and gotten Archie a place at a local daycare. She knew the owner, and, despite the concerns of the motherly bear who ran the place, Bren had secured a spot of the big babbling otter pup from nine to five, giving Bren some much needed time away from her seemingly permanent gig as Archie’s mommy. She loved it almost as much as she did, but, like any parent, maintaining sanity eventually surpasses your child’s comfort in importance. It was for the greater good.
Still drunk on chemicals and giggling at everything, Archie slowly managed to gain his feet and waddle after his mother’s lead. She turned him around and started buckling the otter into his child-harness. It was a cool thing she had bought on the internet, kept the free-minded toddler from having any thoughts of escape or play without permission. It had been particularly useful during his early days, back when his willingness to obey and submit was less certain, less concrete.
In the intervening time, however, Archie had learned to love his leash and harness. It was a tether between his mommy and him, a symbol of her love, of how much she cared for him. He wiggled happily, playing with one of the leather straps in his childish mindset as he was led by a two foot lead to Bren’s car, a slightly out of date model sedan with a sky blue paint job. She opened the back door and patted Archie’s booster seat. It was for disabled kids, but, with a bit of creative repainting, it fit the purpose of keeping a fussy adult baby in his carseat marvelously well. Archie had slowly been coming off the effects of the milk, and now looked up at his mommy’s pretty white tabby face, smiling as warm as ever he had in his life as she buckled him in. When the last locking snap was popped into its place, leaving the otter snug and immobile as a toddler in his booster seat, Bren leaned in close, giving the cub a heartfelt peck on the nose, both of them blushing.
“Love you, Archie,” the tabby said, slowly pressing Archie’s signature blue pacifier into his mouth, “now, let’s get you to daycare.”

Find the first part HERE!
Like what I write? Well, I happen to have a magic portal that makes your dreams come true when you offer it a sacrifice! Access it HERE!
Please comment and tell me what you think!
Story Text: (Download for better formatting)
Further Consequences:
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Archie whined, sulking a bit and banging on the bars of his crib before huffing, pouting, and sitting back on his soggy, heavily padded rear, arms crossed like a fussy toddler. It had been two months since Bren, in her infinite desire to manipulate others, had caught the twenty one year old otter red handed in his bedroom, naked but for his diaper, and, to top it off with a cherry, gotten five minutes or more of flawless video proof. Two months since the tabby cat, his room-mate and high-school friend, had used what she had gathered to blackmail him into whatever humiliation she saw fit, gradually but steadily stretching his comfort zone until he was living, as he was now, as little more than a diaper dependent three year old in the body of an adult male.
He wiggled in his squishy, well used diaper. It was a Saturday morning, and he had slept very deeply the previous night. One of the disadvantages, Archie had quickly found, with being in diapers all the time was that one quickly grows accustomed to simply peeing whenever they felt the need. Do that for a few days, a week, a month, two months, and you stop even thinking about it. It becomes reflexive, and, by this point in time, Archie found it hard to hold his bladder even a little bit unless he focused his entire mind on keeping dry. Naturally, diapers had quickly gone from something he had been forced into to, to something he outright needed. There would be many a wet pair of brown trousers and perfectly folded set of sheets if he were to back out, now.
“I’m here, pumpkin,” Bren said, smiling warmly as she always did in the morning, and entering what had once been his bedroom. Bren looked around her custom-built nursery. It hadn’t been cheap, but certainly it had been worth it. She had replaced Archie’s bed with the crib that he now spent his nights in, replaced all his furniture with the cubby equivilant, and painted the room to be as bright and colorful as a cub deserved. There had been a noticeable positive shift in his mood, after that had happened, and Bren was all and all for that. “How did you sleep, sweetie?” she said, leaning against the bars of Archie’s crib and grinning beams at him.
“Wet… again,” the otter murmured, still a little hesitant to forgo his potty training completely. He watched as the tabby’s grin grew wider, and she nodded twice before making a gesture with one finger that was the universal symbol for come here. He sighed, bowing to the inevitable, and crawled over, letting his mommy check his diaper through the bars.
“My, my, you’re totally soaked! I’m surprised you didn’t leak all over the bed. We’re going to need to get you some thicker sleep diapers, cutie,” she said, loving the fussy and blushing facial expressions that Archie made when she teased him. It was good to keep him a little off balance, much easier to play with someone, that way.
“Hehe… yeah,” Archie replied, scratching the back of his head as Bren lowered the bars to his crib before taking him by the hand and leading him out. The otter’s stance, clad in nothing but his pampers, was wobbly to say the least. He had gotten better at walking in the diapers, given that he was now wearing them 24/7, but that didn’t change the fact that the best anyone could manage in a diaper two inches thick between the legs was a waddle. Case closed.
The routine long having been established, Archie toddled over to the changing table, which had been installed right into the wall below his window. Nominally it was so he could get some sun, and look outside while he was changed, but everyone knew it was so that he had no privacy, not even during his most sensitive moments.
Archie layed down on the table and sighed, wiggling in his dinosaur printed diaper and waiting for his mommy to get the cool, damp diaper off of him so that he could get into something dry and snug, again, the one he was wearing starting to sag bad enough that it might even have leaked, if it were given the chance.
“Awww, lookit my little piddle pup. Who’s a squishy little fella? Who’s a squishy little fella?” Bren asked, sporting one of the thickest diapers that Archie had ever seen along with the rest of his changing supplies, and continued cooing at him, setting down all the stuff and tickling his exposed belly and toes in turn. Changing table hijinks were one of the things that Archie absolutely loved about being a baby. He had had a crush on Bren for as long as he could remember, ever since they had met in high school, but he had never imagined something so perfect, so pure and beautiful would happen between them as the mother and child relationship that had quickly developed, once Archie had lowered his defenses and let the cat in, of course.
Brenda purred, slowly scratching around Archie’s neck and belly with her claws, watching the otter’s eyes as he drifted about on a sea of ecstasy, his perception of pleasure having changed drastically since his acceptance of his new role. The tabby kept up her endless stream of cooing as she changed her stead, tearing the tapes on his diaper and pulling the soaked and ruined pamper out from under him before disposing of it in the long prepared receptacle and letting him air out for a while. Archie gave his mommy a cutesy smile, sticking his tongue out of his short, otter snout, to which Bren replied in kind before tickling him a bit more, just to remind him affectionately of who was boss.
A few more minutes of idle play passed, and Bren picked up Archie’s rear by the ankles, letting him down only after she slipped the heavily stuffed diaper under his legs and powdered him down with a fountain of the sweet smelling talc. Archie reveled in the warmth and affection that his caretaker showed him during the diaper change, massaging the talcum into his fur and pulling the thick pamper up around his waist before snugly taping it in place.
“There we go, pumpkin, now let’s get some clothes on you,” the tabby said, her tail trailing her as she worked her way through Bren’s new wardrobe which consisted of baby clothes, toddler clothes, and the clothes of a very small child. Naturally, Archie loved the treatment, and babbled with delight as his mommy pulled out a dinosaur printed green T-shirt and a pair of short denim jeans. She handed him his clothes, he had the privilege of dressing himself as long as he was good, and he quickly pulled them on over his diaper as much as possible, looking at himself proudly in the mirror. “Such a big boy you are. How about we get you something to eat so you grow up big and strong?” she said, the ritual words for breakfast, and led him out and into the kitchen, where his high-chair was already set up, a bowl of steaming oats and cranberries waiting for him on the counter.
The otter enthusiastically climbed into his high-chair, letting Bren snap down his tabletop and lock it in place, strapping him down to minimize the cubby otter’s unnecessary movements. Archie, of course, was well used to being fed his breakfast by this point, and opened his mouth happily for every bite of gooey, fruity hot cereal. He preferred pancakes, but also knew that he wouldn’t get his favorite breakfast by complaining, that was for sure, and Bren liked to hang on things like that.
As he finished his gleeful eating, Bren stepped back to examine the slew of food that had somehow found its way all around Archie’s grinning face and splattered onto his Sesame-Street bib. She snickered a bit, said, “such a messy eater,” and proceeded to wipe the wiggly twenty one year old cub down with a rag before unbuckling him from the chair and letting him down. Both of them grinned sheepishly as the microwave rang out its notes, Bren walking over and removing the two liter nursing bottle filled with hot milk from the microwave. They had talked about bottle feeding since the beginning, but had only recently added a session to their daily routine. Archie absolutely loved the connection they made as she gave him his baba, but it was a bit outside both of their comfort zones, still. Nevertheless, Bren took Archie by the paw and led him into the den, sitting down in their brand new lounge chair and instructing the otter to lay down sideways, just like a baby.
Archie blushed furiously, grinning, but did as he was told, squinting and wiggling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable. “Ya’ ready?” Bren asked, the tabby leaning over and rubbing her head against the otter’s with all the love and warmth that she could muster.
“Mhm, I thing’ so…” Archie said, his speech having suffered a bit from the long nights, and sometimes days, too, with the rubber nipple of his Nuk5 pacifier stuffed into his maw. He loved it, of course, often suckling on it compulsively to deal with stress, anxiety, anger, fear, or anything else, really. It had become his security blanket, and he really didn’t know how he had gotten along before it.
“Alright, cutie, bottoms up,” Bren said, beaming down at the little otter, her pride and joy, and, supporting his head on one arm, popped the bottle’s latex nipple between his lips. Archie started suckling instantly, having long re-acquired his suckle reflex from all the days upon days he had spent with a pacifier in his mouth, lately. Not only was he a master suckler, now, as good as any newborn, Archie couldn’t really even stop himself at this point. Sucking on a nipple like object, especially if it excreted warm, thick, sweet milk, had become a compulsion for him. He got anxious without it, but, when he did have something to nurse on, he was the happiest cub in the world.
The two liters of milk went down Archie’s gullet in record time, who, belly full now of unrefined milk and oats with berries, was dopey and drowsing from the unfiltered hormones in the milk. He wiggled in his diaper and baby clothes, cooing up at his mommy, who slowly ebbed him off of her and back onto his feet. A little off balance, Archie stumbled and went down onto his hands and knees on the carpeted living room, not an uncommon sight, given that his playpen was in the corner. But the play pen was not his destination today. No, today was special. Bren had pulled some strings, and gotten Archie a place at a local daycare. She knew the owner, and, despite the concerns of the motherly bear who ran the place, Bren had secured a spot of the big babbling otter pup from nine to five, giving Bren some much needed time away from her seemingly permanent gig as Archie’s mommy. She loved it almost as much as she did, but, like any parent, maintaining sanity eventually surpasses your child’s comfort in importance. It was for the greater good.
Still drunk on chemicals and giggling at everything, Archie slowly managed to gain his feet and waddle after his mother’s lead. She turned him around and started buckling the otter into his child-harness. It was a cool thing she had bought on the internet, kept the free-minded toddler from having any thoughts of escape or play without permission. It had been particularly useful during his early days, back when his willingness to obey and submit was less certain, less concrete.
In the intervening time, however, Archie had learned to love his leash and harness. It was a tether between his mommy and him, a symbol of her love, of how much she cared for him. He wiggled happily, playing with one of the leather straps in his childish mindset as he was led by a two foot lead to Bren’s car, a slightly out of date model sedan with a sky blue paint job. She opened the back door and patted Archie’s booster seat. It was for disabled kids, but, with a bit of creative repainting, it fit the purpose of keeping a fussy adult baby in his carseat marvelously well. Archie had slowly been coming off the effects of the milk, and now looked up at his mommy’s pretty white tabby face, smiling as warm as ever he had in his life as she buckled him in. When the last locking snap was popped into its place, leaving the otter snug and immobile as a toddler in his booster seat, Bren leaned in close, giving the cub a heartfelt peck on the nose, both of them blushing.
“Love you, Archie,” the tabby said, slowly pressing Archie’s signature blue pacifier into his mouth, “now, let’s get you to daycare.”
Category Story / Baby fur
Species Otter
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 54.6 kB
Listed in Folders
Well, I'm glad! If you were interested, you might enter the Magic Portal, and have your buttons smashed all over again ^^
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