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Fanfiction Fridays: Chief Bogo’s Game

DISCLAIMER: The following fanfiction stories are transformative works, created for the purpose of parody and satire. They are not intended to replace or substitute the original works on which they are based. As such, they fall under the fair use exception of copyright law. I do not monetize my fanfiction stories in any way. I do not charge for access to these stories, nor do I receive any financial compensation for writing them. They are a labor of love, shared freely with the adult baby/diaper lover and babyfur communities. My fanfiction stories are not endorsed, sponsored, or affiliated with the original authors, creators, or copyright holders of the works on which they are based. They are purely a product of my own imagination and interpretation. The original characters, settings, and plots belong to their respective owners. The unique elements and transformative aspects of my stories, however, are legally protected under my own copyright. My stories often contain adult themes and may not be suitable for all audiences. Please read responsibly.

The Zootopia Police Department’s phones were ringing off the hook. Officer Clawhauser, a portly cheetah with a penchant for pastries, was seated at the front desk, answering calls with a delicate balance of sweetness and urgency. His jovial demeanor belied the secret that lay beneath his uniform — a thick, crinkling adult diaper, secured with a snugness that was both comforting and humiliating. Chief Bogo, the stern cape buffalo who commanded the force, had tied Clawhauser to his chair with a series of intricate knots, a ritual of control and submission that had become their publicly forbidden dance of love.

The radio crackled to life, Bogo’s gruff voice filling Clawhauser’s earpiece. “Clawhauser, you know what to do when nature calls. Hold it in.” Clawhauser squirmed, feeling the first tingles of urgency. He glanced around the lobby, his tail flicking nervously.

Nick Wilde, the sly fox, and Judy Hopps, the earnest bunny, approached the desk, their banter echoing through the expansive lobby. Clawhauser plastered on his cheeriest smile, trying to ignore his achingly full bladder and the seductive thickness of his diaper. There was a desire to wet. Maybe a little. He was accustomed to experiencing a sudden, growing warmth between his legs while conducting police business — but not while trying to maintain a normal conversation.

As Nick and Judy approached the front desk, Clawhauser plastered on his cheeriest smile, trying to ignore the growing urgency in his bladder. The pressure was building, a insistent throb that demanded attention. He squirmed in his seat, the rope creaking ominously as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Hey, Clawhauser,” Nick greeted, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on the cheetah’s discomfort. “You okay, buddy?”

Clawhauser chuckled nervously, his tail flicking behind him. “Oh, you know, just the usual paperwork piling up,” he lied, his voice a touch too high. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to go, needed to release the pressure that was building to an almost unbearable level.

Judy leaned in, her eyes filled with inquisitive concern. “Clawhauser, are you sure you’re okay? I don’t see any paperwork on your desk.”

Clawhauser opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, Bogo’s voice crackled in his earpiece. “Hold it in, Clawhauser. Hold it. Be professional.” The command was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Clawhauser’s body tensed as he fought against the urge to release. It was an uphill battle.

Nick’s nose twitched, his eyes narrowing. “Gosh, it smells different around here, I don’t know, like a baby’s nursery. Finnick didn’t stop by here, did he?” Judy elbowed him, but Clawhauser’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I don’t think that cute, little pest stopped by. Not to my recollection,” Clawhauser replied. “But –“

Suddenly, Clawhauser yelped, his body jerking in the chair. Bogo had activated the vibrating butt plug nestled deep within him, a devilish reminder of who was in control. Clawhauser gripped the desk, knuckles white, as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“Just a little static shock,” he stammered, his grin more of a grimace. The sudden wave of vibrations coursing through his prostate caused him to wet suddenly and involuntarily.

“Oh gosh!” he said without thinking.

The pressure was too much, the need too great. With a soft whimper, he felt the first trickle of warmth spread through his diaper.

The relief was immediate, a flood of sensation that left him frozen in place. He could feel the wetness spreading, the diaper swelling as it absorbed his piss. The warmth was comforting, a soothing balm to the ache in his bladder. But with the relief came concern. He was wetting himself, like a cub, in front of his colleagues, in the middle of the bustling police station.

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but at the same time, he felt a strange sense of exhilaration. This was what Bogo wanted: relief from stimulation and desperation. And despite the humiliation, Clawhauser couldn’t deny the thrill that enveloped him.

As the wetness spread, Clawhauser detected a new scent in the air — the sharp, pungent smell of his own urine. It was humiliating because the smell was undeniable. But he found the scent arousing. It was a primal, intimate smell, a testament to his submission, and his utter failure to contain himself.

He squirmed in his seat, his body responding to the heaviness of his sog, the unrelenting nature of his mark, the sensation of the warm, wet diaper pressed against his fur.

Nick wrinkled his nose, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on the scent. “Clawhauser, did you…?” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing as he realized what was happening.

Judy looked confused, her gaze flicking between Nick and Clawhauser. “Did he what?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Nick leaned in and looked at Clawhauser with his lowered, seductive eyes. “Did you know Gazelle is getting back on tour? ” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the cheetah’s face.

“Oh yes. I mean no. No, I definitely heard. Bogo and I got tickets.” Clawhauser felt some tension being lifted from his shoulders. He was mentally preparing himself for Nick to make a very specific and embarrassing guest.

Nick raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. Judy, ever the professional, steered the conversation back to business. Clawhauser did his best to focus, but the vibrations and the growing pressure in his bladder made it difficult. He shifted in his seat, the rope creaking ominously.

As Nick and Judy walked away, Clawhauser let out a shaky breath. He reached for a donut from the box on his desk, needing the comfort of sugar.

He had forgotten, however, that Bogo had laced them with laxatives, a playfully wicked twist in their game.

Ten minutes passed. The first wave of cramps hit him like a freight train. Clawhauser’s eyes widened in panic as he realized what was about to happen. He squirmed, trying to hold it in, but it was no use. With another soft whimper of total surrender, he felt a sudden plop in the back of his diapered seat, with the mess filling it far too quickly. A heavy and unrelenting load. Surely everyone was going to notice now.

His only escape? To confess. There was no viable way out of the situation. And besides, Bogo gave him some more orders to follow.

Tears of humiliation pricked at his eyes as he pressed the intercom button. “Um… Officer McStripes? I had a very big accident. I need my diaper changed.” Silence greeted him, then a tiger’s deep chuckle echoed through the speaker. The words “diaper changed” echoed painfully long on the intercom.

“Of course, Clawhauser. I’ll be right there.”

Officer McStripes, a burly tiger with a smirk that promised no mercy, untied Clawhauser and led him to the employee locker room. The other officers were already gathered, their eyes gleaming with amusement and anticipation. Clawhauser’s heart pounded in his chest as McStripes laid him down on the changing table, his humiliation complete.

The tiger snapped on a pair of latex gloves, his smirk growing wider. “Let’s get you cleaned up, little one,” he purred, his voice dripping with mockery. Clawhauser closed his eyes, his cheeks burning with shame, as McStripes began to change his soiled diaper.

As Clawhauser lay on the changing table, the cold metal against his back, McStripes began to carefully peel away the soiled diaper. The tiger’s guffawed as he revealed the extent of Clawhauser’s mess.

“Look at the big baby making such a big mess in his diaper,” McStripes taunted, his voice echoing in the locker room.

Clawhauser’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his ears flattening against his head. “It’s not my fault,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “He made me do this.”

McStripes chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “Oh, well, I know all about your little arrangement with your master. But to have a diaper this full?” He held up the heavy, soiled and brown-stained diaper, wrinkling his nose. “Very unprofessional. Guess that means you really need diapers, and lots of special treatment. It’s a little pathetic, honestly.”

Clawhauser squirmed, his tail lashing out in embarrassment. “I-It’s not like that,” he stammered, trying to justify his humiliation. “It’s just a thing that he wanted to —”

“Oh, is it what he wanted? I’m sure he will love to hear that. That diaper you had on. You wanted to destroy it. Dirty boy. Do you think anyone who’s not a diaperboy would subject themselves to this?”

Clawhauser went silent.

McStripes clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he began to clean Clawhauser with a warm, wet cloth. “So, a ‘thing,’ huh? Seems like a lot of trouble to go through for just a ‘thing.’ A predator is playing a game with his prey, and his prey appears to love it.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low purr. “You must really enjoy this, Clawhauser. The humiliation, the attention… it gets you off, doesn’t it? Look how hard your small dick managed to get. And everyone can see your small dick getting hard from this.”

Clawhauser’s breath hitched as McStripes’ words struck a chord deep within him. He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, the twisted pleasure he derived from this dynamic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, his voice barely a whisper.

McStripes smirked, his eyes flicking down to Clawhauser’s exposed lower half. “Oh, really?” he said, his voice laced with mockery. He reached down, his gloved hand gripping the base of the poop-covered vibrating butt plug nestled within Clawhauser. “Then what’s this, hmm? A little toy to make the game more interesting?”

Clawhauser yelped, his body arching off the table as McStripes slowly pulled the plug out. The sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and discomfort that left him gasping. “No, please,” he begged.

McStripes held up the plug, examining it with a critical eye. “You’re a pervert,” he declared, his voice filled with feigned disgust. “You get off on this. You’re gross, and you love it.”

Clawhauser’s body trembled. He moaned softly, which was a tacit admission. He couldn’t deny McStripes’ words, couldn’t deny the truth in them. He did enjoy this,

“Yes,” he finally admitted, his voice filled with shame. “Yes, I do.”

McStripes chuckled, patting Clawhauser’s cheek with a condescending smirk. “Good boy,” he purred, his voice filled with mock praise. “At least you’re honest about your perversions.”

As McStripes finished cleaning him and secured a fresh diaper in place, Clawhauser lay there, breathless, hard and humiliated.

The room filled with laughter and jeers, the other officers taking delight in Clawhauser’s predicament. Yet Clawhauser felt a strange sense of exhilaration. As Clawhauser lay on the changing table, his chest heaving with undisciplined anticipation, he became acutely aware of the atmosphere in the locker room. The air was thick with a mix of amusement and something more — a palpable tension that sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced around, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.

Some of the officers were no longer just watching; their paws had wandered, discreetly groping themselves through their uniforms. Others had their hands tucked into their pockets, their movements subtle but unmistakable. Clawhauser’s humiliation had sparked a voyeuristic frenzy, and the realization sent a wave of heat coursing through him. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of them shared his freshly exposed secret, if any of them were also hiding diapers beneath their uniforms.

Suddenly, the locker room door swung open, and Chief Bogo stepped in, his imposing figure commanding the room. He looked down at Clawhauser, his expression unreadable as he slowly removed his eyeglasses. Clawhauser’s heart pounded in his chest.

Bogo leaned down, his face inches from Clawhauser’s, before planting a surprisingly sweet kiss on his forehead. The tender gesture was at odds with the humiliation Clawhauser had just endured, and it left him feeling off-kilter. Bogo straightened up, his voice filling the room as he addressed the gathered officers.

“As you all know, Zootopia is a diverse city,” he began, his tone lecturing. “While most species are civilized enough to use the toilet, each species ranges in their level of domestication. Some are comfortable using the toilet, while others,” he glanced down at Clawhauser, a smirk playing on his lips, “wear diapers.”

Clawhauser felt a strange sense of comfort wash over him. He wasn’t alone in this, wasn’t the only one with these peculiar needs. The other officers murmured in agreement, their eyes gleaming with understanding and acceptance.

But any sense of comfort was short-lived as Bogo leaned in, his breath hot against Clawhauser’s ear. “You’re still going to be my tortured, little plaything,” he whispered, his voice laced with dark promise.

Clawhauser’s eyes widened in shock as Bogo began to unfasten his pants. He watched in disbelief as the chief revealed his own diaper, the thick white, crinkly plastic stark against his dark fur. The room fell silent, the air thick with anticipation.

Bogo calmly climbed onto the changing table. Clawhauser’s heart pounded in his chest as Bogo straddled his face, the chief’s diaper-clad bottom hovering inches from his nose. The scent of powder and something more — something distinctly Bogo — filled his nostrils, and Clawhauser’s body responded with throbbing arousal.

The room erupted in laughter and cheers, the other officers hooting and hollering as Bogo sat down, his full weight pressing against Clawhauser’s face. Clawhauser’s world went dark, the sound of the locker room muffled by Bogo’s rank diaper. He struggled to breathe, the sensation of the diaper against his face both humiliating and intensely erotic.

As he lay there, trapped beneath Bogo, Clawhauser knew he was in deep. This was more than just a game, more than just a a sensual dynamic between him and the chief. This was his life now, his reality. And as much as it scared him, as much as it humiliated him, he couldn’t deny the thrill that never seemed to stop.

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