At my request, my friend Chromatose also did a short piece of fiction inspired by the piece. Which is as follows:
Baxxter fidgeted in his seat as the bus slowed and finally came to a halt in front of his house, the young arctic fox's ears acutely sensitive to the quiet crinkling of the thick diaper he wore under his jeans. Grabbing his book bag, he jumped up and hustled to the front of the bus, the middle school-er thanking the driver and bounding down the steps and up the walk to his front door.
“Just another minute,” he whispered to himself as he dug in his pocket for his house key, the boy whimpering at the urgent, heavy feeling in his bowels. It had been four full days since the last time he had messed his diapers and his parents had promised pull-ups if he could go a week without filling his seat.
His ears pinning back, Baxx realized with a sinking feeling he didn't have his key in his pocket! He must have left it on the dresser this morning! Dropping his backpack, he hurried as much as he could around the back of the house to retrieve the spare key hidden near the back door.
“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon,” the boy chanted, urgently dancing from paw to paw as he turned the key in the lock, a happy whine escaping as the bolt slid easily (for once!) and he pushed his way inside. Just a few more feet!
Dashing for the stairs, the young fox took them two at a time, rushing for the bathroom! He was going to make it! He was going to-
His foot caught on the top stair and with a startled cry, the fox tumbled forward, helpless to stop himself! As he stretched out his arms to catch himself the young foxboy had no time to brace for the impact. Landing on hands and knees, he grunted out a pained, “Ooof!”
His body, in the meantime, had made the most out of the unfortunate tumble. With the shock of fear the last of his control was gone and the boy's cheeks reddened brightly as he became aware of the heated mush filling the seat of his pants!
Biting his lip the humiliated fox gave a quiet grunt as his body took over, emptying itself right into the teens pants. As he finished soiling himself at the top of the stairs, Baxxter struggled to his feet, wincing at the way his infantile load squished and shifted in his diaper.
Shuffling into his room, he began to lay out the supplies to clean himself, the fox discarding his belt and wiggling his jeans down his hips. Sniffling quietly, he reached out to straighten the changing mat on his bed.
As he did, he heard a familiar voice behind him, “Baxxter? What happened?”
wen
