The desert sun beat down on the cracked asphalt outside Bill’s Auto Repair, a squat building with peeling paint and a faded sign. Dirk’s old sedan coughed one last time as he pulled into the lot, the engine’s rattle echoing off the cinderblock walls. He cut the ignition, wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his paw, and let out a long breath. The German shepherd stepped out, his boots crunching on the gravel, and pushed through the shop’s glass door, a bell jingling above.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of oil and metal. A bulldog in a sweat-soaked white shirt and jeans hunched over a pickup, his broad shoulders shifting as he tightened something under the hood. Bill didn’t look up right away, just kept working, the clank of his wrench steady. Dirk cleared his throat, tail flicking once.
“Hey,” Dirk said, voice low but firm. “You got time to check my car? It’s acting up. Stalling out on me.”
Bill paused, set the wrench down, and eased the hood shut with a slow, deliberate push. He turned, wiping his paws on a rag that hung from his belt. His eyes, small and sharp under heavy brows, sized Dirk up. “Yeah, I can take a look,” he said, voice gruff but even. “Gonna be a bit, though. Hour, maybe more. Got this one to finish first.”
Dirk’s ears twitched, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “An hour? I’m trying to make it to Carson by sundown.”
Bill shrugged, tossing the rag onto a nearby workbench. “Can’t rush a fix if you want it done right. You’re welcome to wait.” He nodded toward a couple of plastic chairs in the corner, next to a coffee table littered with old car magazines.
Dirk’s jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Fine. I’ll wait.”
He crossed the shop, boots scuffing the concrete floor, and dropped into one of the chairs. It creaked under his weight. He leaned back, arms crossed, and stared at the wall, where a faded calendar from three years ago hung crookedly. The hum of a fan in the corner did little to cut the heat.
Bill went back to the pickup, popping the hood again and leaning in. The clink of tools filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional grunt or muttered curse. Dirk’s eyes flicked toward him now and then, watching the bulldog’s deliberate movements — how he’d pause to wipe his brow, or step back to study the engine like it was a puzzle he was piecing together.
Dirk shifted in the plastic chair, the creak of it cutting through the hum of the shop’s fan. He glanced at Bill, still bent over the pickup, then let his eyes wander to the cluttered workbench, the faded calendar, anywhere but the bulldog’s steady movements. The heat was getting to him, making his fur itch under his collar. He stood, stretching his arms, and cleared his throat again.
“Hey, Bill,” Dirk called, keeping his tone casual. “Where’s the restroom?”
Bill didn’t look up, just pointed a greasy paw toward a hallway at the back of the shop. “Down there, second door on the left. Cleanest one in town, I reckon.” His voice had a dry edge, like he was half-joking.
Dirk chuckled, not quite sure what to make of the comment, and headed down the hall. The fluorescent light buzzed to life when he flicked the switch, revealing a small, tiled room that gleamed under the harsh glow. Spotless, just like Bill said. The sink sparkled, the mirror was streak-free, and the floor looked like it’d been mopped that morning. But next to the toilet, a low storage cabinet caught his eye. On top sat an open bag of adult diapers, the plastic crinkling slightly in the still air. Inside the cabinet’s open door, more diapers were neatly stacked, alongside baby powder, a box of wipes, and a roll of odor-blocking bags. A diaper pail sat tucked between the cabinet and a regular trash can, its lid shut tight.
Dirk raised an eyebrow, then shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He used the restroom, washed his paws, and stepped back into the shop, the bell on the door jingling faintly as it swung shut behind him.
Bill was at the workbench now, leaning forward with his paws braced on the edge, knees slightly bent. His shoulders tensed, and a low grunt escaped him, followed by a soft huff. Dirk froze mid-step, his ears twitching as he caught the sound. Bill turned his head slowly, meeting Dirk’s gaze with a calm, almost amused look. “Told ya the restroom’s clean for a reason,” he said, his voice steady, like he was commenting on the weather.
Dirk’s tail flicked, and he felt a flush creep up his neck, his fur prickling. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this — this bluntness, this casual ease. His eyes flicked down, catching the slight sag at the back of Bill’s jeans, the fabric shifting in a way that confirmed what he’d heard. Dirk’s paw shot to his muzzle, covering his mouth as he turned his head, trying to play it off as a cough. But a sudden heat pooled low in his gut, with his jeans tightening uncomfortably.
Bill straightened up, wiping his paws on his rag like nothing had happened. He stepped over to a toolbox, rummaging through it with a faint clink of metal. “You alright over there?” he asked, not looking up, but there was a knowing edge to his tone.
“Yeah,” Dirk managed, his voice a little too quick. He dropped his paw, forcing himself to lean back against the wall, arms crossed tight over his chest. “Just a little hot in here.”
Bill snorted, pulling a socket wrench from the toolbox. “Desert’ll do that.” He walked back to the pickup, popping the hood again and leaning in. The clank of tools started up once more, steady and unhurried.
Dirk’s eyes lingered on Bill’s back, the way his sweat-soaked shirt clung to his shoulders. He swallowed, trying to focus on the calendar, the fan, anything else. The air felt thicker now, not just from the heat. He shifted his weight, one boot scuffing the floor, and cleared his throat. “You run this place alone?” he asked, grasping for something to say.
Bill paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Mostly. Got a kid who helps out weekends, but he’s off today.” He turned back to the engine, adjusting something with a quick twist of his wrist. “You always this chatty when you’re stranded?”
Dirk’s ears flicked back, but he caught the faint smirk in Bill’s voice. “Only when I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere,” he shot back, a bit of his usual edge returning.
Bill chuckled, low and rough, and kept working. The silence settled again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable now — just heavy, like the air before a storm. Dirk stayed by the wall, watching Bill’s hands move with that same deliberate care, and tried to ignore the way his pulse hadn’t quite slowed down.
The clank of tools stopped as Bill set his wrench down on the workbench, wiping his paws on his rag. He stepped back from the pickup, rolling his shoulders, and glanced at Dirk, who was still leaning against the wall. Dirk’s eyes kept darting to the back of Bill’s jeans, quick and nervous, like he was trying not to get caught. Bill cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet shop.
“Been noticing you staring, but that’s alright,” Bill said, his voice low and steady, no hint of judgment. “Ever since I took care of some ‘personal business’ in the back.” Bill pointed to the back of his jeans.
Dirk’s ears pinned back, and he shifted his weight, paws shoving deeper into his pockets. “What? Nah, I wasn’t —” He cut himself off, looking away, his tail giving a single, tense flick.
Bill raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his muzzle. He took a slow step closer, his boots scuffing the concrete. “Look, sir, I ain’t blind. And I ain’t opposed, neither. If you’re curious — want to touch, check it out — I’m game.” He paused, his eyes softening just a fraction. “Gets lonely out here sometimes. Town knows of my situation. They all know. Don’t mean I don’t feel it, though, y’know what I mean?”
Dirk’s gaze flickered back to Bill, then down to the floor. He opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered, “Well, you don’t gotta change or anything. I’m good.”
Bill tilted his head, his smirk widening slightly, intrigued. “That so?” He stepped closer, close enough that Dirk could smell the oil on his shirt, the faint musk beneath it. “Don’t be scared, man. Ain’t no one judging you here. It’s just the two of us.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small remote, and pressed a button. The garage door rattled as it began to lower, the metal slats clanking until it sealed the shop from the outside world. The hum of the fan was louder now, the air thick with heat and something else. Bill set the remote down, his movements slow, deliberate. Then, without breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned his jeans, letting them slide to the floor. His boxer-briefs followed, pooling around his ankles, leaving just the full diaper — bulky, sagging slightly, the plastic crinkling as he shifted.
“I’m all yours,” Bill told him.
Dirk’s eyes widened, his breath catching audibly. He stood frozen for a moment, then moved, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. He crossed the short distance, dropped to his knees on the cold concrete, and leaned forward, pressing his snout against the front of Bill’s diaper. The scent hit him — sharp, intimate, overwhelming — and his tail gave a slow, involuntary wag.
Bill growled happily under his breath, and he braced a paw on the workbench behind him. A low, rumbling moan escaped as he shifted his weight, and then a soft hiss filled the air. The diaper grew warm, heavy, a faint trickle escaping the leg gathers, dripping onto the concrete. Dirk’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed closer, his tongue darting out to lap at the leakage, feverish and unhesitating. The wet sound of it mingled with Bill’s moans, louder now, his free paw gripping the edge of the workbench.
“My goodness,” Bill muttered, his voice rough, a mix of surprise and something heavier. He looked down at Dirk, watching the German shepherd’s focused intensity, the way his ears twitched with every sound.
Bill’s paw rested on Dirk’s head, fingers ruffling the German shepherd’s fur with a gentle, teasing touch. “Didn’t peg you for a guy into leaky, old, diapered bulldogs,” he said, his voice low, a grin tugging at his muzzle. “Ain’t exactly a common kink.”
Dirk, still on his knees, let out a soft huff of a laugh, his snout pressed close to the crinkling plastic of Bill’s diaper. He glanced up, eyes glinting with a mix of nerves and boldness. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he muttered, his voice muffled but warm. “Doesn’t help you’re kinda cute, too.”
Bill’s grin softened, and he tilted his head, studying Dirk. “Cute, huh? That’s a new one.” His paw lingered, thumb brushing along Dirk’s ear. “You know, I wasn’t always this open about it. But I figure you deserve some context and a disclaimer. Been incontinent since a bad spill on my bike, ‘bout ten years back. Smashed me up good. For a long time, I was pretty ashamed. Kept to myself, hid out, didn’t want nobody knowing.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting. “Got tired of that, though. Figured if the town didn’t like it, they could shove it. Went back to turning wrenches, and here I am.”
Dirk pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Bill’s gaze, his paws resting on the bulldog’s thighs. “Not much of a cool backstory on my end,” he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Just a gay guy who’s been drifting, looking for something to stick. Didn’t expect to find a diamond like you in the rough.” He gestured vaguely at Bill, the diaper, the whole scene. “This is working for me. Why? I honestly don’t know. I’m just going with it. That diaper, though? Adds to the charm.”
Bill’s ears twitched, and he let out a low, rumbling laugh. “Charm, huh? Alright, pretty boy, what else you like about my diaper? Lay it on me.”
Dirk’s cheeks flushed under his fur, but he leaned in again, pressing his snout firmly against the front of Bill’s diaper, the plastic warm and slightly slick under his touch. A soft moan escaped him as he inhaled deeply. “You don’t hold back,” he said, voice low, almost reverent. “Using it like it’s nothing, just being you. That shamelessness? It’s hot. Smells like you own every damn bit of it.”
Bill’s eyes darkened, a lustful growl rumbling in his chest. “Took me years to get here,” he admitted, his voice rougher now. “Was mortified at first. Diapers? Me? Felt like the world was laughing. But I worked through it, piece by piece. Now?” He glanced down at Dirk, at the way the shepherd’s paws gripped his thighs, the way his snout pressed closer. “Now I’m starting to think there’s some pride in it. ‘Specially with you down there, looking like you’re about to lose your damn mind, enjoying my ‘special underwear’ that I use as my personal toilet.”
Dirk chuckled, the sound vibrating against Bill’s diaper, sending a shiver through the bulldog. “Maybe I am,” he murmured, his tongue flicking out briefly, tasting the edge of the plastic, which wept with the mechanic’s excessive piss. “Didn’t expect to find a guy like you in a nowhere shop like this.”
Bill’s paw tightened in Dirk’s fur, just enough to guide his head closer. “Didn’t expect you either,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. The shop was quiet now, save for the hum of the fan and the faint crinkle of the diaper as Dirk shifted.
Bill’s breath was heavy, his paw still resting on Dirk’s head, fingers tangled in the shepherd’s fur. “Gotta be honest,” he said with a gruff, “I’m getting pent up here. You’re going to help me take care of my ‘problem.’”
Dirk’s eyes flicked up with anticipation. He quickly stood, shedding his shirt and jeans in a matter of seconds until he was bare, his fur catching the dim light of the shop. His tail flicked once, and he met Bill’s gaze with a half-smirk. “Been a while since anyone bred me right,” he said, voice steady but laced with want. “Missed that feeling — another guy’s thick and sticky cum, deep in my tailhole.”
Bill’s ears twitched, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Goddamn,” he said, a spark of confidence lighting his eyes. “Hold tight.” He stepped away, boots scuffing the concrete, and disappeared into the back of the shop. A moment later, he returned, hefting a heavy black trash bag. With a grunt, he upended it over the hood of the pickup, the contents spilling out — a pile of used diapers, crinkling as they tumbled across the metal.
Dirk’s eyes locked on the heap, the scent sharp and undeniable. Bill stepped closer, his own diaper crinkling as he moved. He reached down, tugging the tapes free and letting the diaper fall to the floor with a soft thud, exposing himself. Spitting into his paw, he slicked his cock with quick, practiced strokes, his gaze never leaving Dirk.
“C’mere, you needy son-of-a-bitch,” Bill said, voice firm. He guided Dirk’s head down, pressing his snout into the pile of diapers, the plastic warm and slightly tacky against his fur. Dirk didn’t resist, his tail wagging slowly as he leaned into it, inhaling deeply.
Bill positioned himself behind Dirk, one paw gripping the shepherd’s hip. “Never done this with a guy before,” he admitted, a faint chuckle in his voice. “But I’ve seen enough videos to get the gist.” He lined himself up, then pushed in, slow at first, letting Dirk adjust to the pressure.
Dirk gritted his teeth, a low pant escaping as he felt Bill fill him, the stretch intense but welcome. His claws scraped lightly against the hood, the diapers crinkling beneath his chest. Bill reached forward, guiding Dirk’s paws behind his back, pinning them there with one strong grip. “Stay like that,” he murmured, and then he started to move, thrusts deep and steady, building a rhythm.
Dirk’s raw and unrestrained moans filled the shop, each one spurred by the force of Bill’s hips. The air was thick with the sounds of their breathing, the creak of the car hood, the faint hum of the fan in the corner. Bill’s grip tightened, his own breaths coming faster, a mix of effort and pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so warm and tight inside,” he growled, his voice rough with intense need, the shop’s walls holding their moment close, like it was the only thing that mattered.
Bill’s thrusts were steady, each one driving a low moan from Dirk, whose claws scratched faintly at the car hood, the pile of used diapers surrounding and covering his snout. Bill leaned in closer, his breath hot against Dirk’s ear, his voice a low growl. “Y’know, I wear diapers every damn day,” he said. “Pissin’, messin’ — it’s just me, part of the deal. After a long shift wrenchin’ cars, that stink? It’s like an old friend. Keeps me company.” He chuckled deeply, his paw tightening on Dirk’s pinned wrists. “And knowin’ you’re into it as much as I am? Shit, that’s got me hard as hell. You got me fuckin’ hard today!”
Dirk’s tail twitched, his moans hitching as Bill’s words sank in. He pressed his snout deeper into the pile, inhaling sharply, his body trembling with each thrust. Bill’s pace quickened, and he leaned down further, his voice dropping to a gritty whisper. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll lose control, boy. Gonna make you piss yourself, right here on the floor, just from how deep I’m breedin’ you. You want that, don’t you?”
Dirk’s breath came in short, desperate pants, his voice strained but eager. “Yes, sir!” he gasped, the words spilling out without hesitation, his body arching into Bill’s rhythm.
Bill grinned, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “That’s right. And when you have that little accident, I’m slappin’ a thick diaper on you. Gonna keep you in ‘em, long as I want.”
“Yes, sir!” Dirk’s reply was immediate, fervent, his eyes half-lidded as he surrendered to the moment. Bill’s grip tightened, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent.
Bill’s thrusts grew wilder, his hips slamming against Dirk with a fevered rhythm, the car hood creaking under their weight. His voice dropped to a guttural snarl, words spilling out between heavy breaths. “You know what? I love bein’ a smelly dog,” he growled, leaning over Dirk, his muzzle close to the shepherd’s ear. “Gonna cover you in my scent, make you my filthy little pet. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Dirk’s moans were ragged, his body trembling as Bill’s cock hardened inside him, pushing him to the edge. His claws dug further into the pile of diapers, the plastic crinkling under his nose. “Fuck, yes,” he gasped, his tail twitching against Bill’s thighs.
Bill’s eyes glinted, his grip on Dirk’s wrists tightening. “The second you piss that floor, you’re fuckin’ mine,” he said, voice low and commanding. “My diaper slave, takin’ whatever I give you.”
Dirk’s head tipped back, a desperate moan escaping. “Do it,” he panted. “Fill me up. I’ll obey—long as you cum in me. Give it to me! Give me all of it! All of it!”
Bill’s thrusts turned frantic, his cock throbbing inside Dirk, each movement drawing sharper moans from the shepherd. Dirk’s body tensed, and then he broke, shouting, “Oh my God! Fuck!” His cock pulsed, spilling several loads onto the concrete below, the wet splatter echoing in the shop. Bill’s growl deepened, and he climaxed hard, his cum flooding Dirk’s tailhole. As he pulled out slowly, a thick rope of cum stretched from his tip to Dirk’s fur, snapping to leave heavy drops on the floor.
The pressure of Dirk’s orgasm hit like a wave, and with a loud thud, he pissed uncontrollably, a stream hitting the concrete, pooling beneath him. Bill barked, a sharp, playful sound, stepping back to survey the mess. “Look at that,” he said, voice mock-stern. “Pissin’ all over my damn floor.”
Dirk, still catching his breath, glanced back with a tired grin. “You wanted it,” he said, voice hoarse but teasing. “Told me to.”
Bill’s stern look cracked, a wide smile spreading across his muzzle. He let go of Dirk’s wrists, giving his shoulder a light pat. “Guess I did,” he said, chuckling, his eyes warm as he looked at Dirk, both of them spent.
Bill stood still, his sweaty paws hanging at his sides, staring at them like they belonged to someone else. His chest heaved, the rush of what just happened — intensely fucking another guy —still buzzing through him. It was wild, electric, unlike anything he’d known. He glanced at Dirk, who was leaning against the car hood, catching his breath. “So,” Bill said, voice gruff but curious, “what do gay guys do after whatever we just did?”
Dirk’s lips quirked, a tired but warm smile. “Aftercare,” he said simply. “Same as straight couples. Y’know, check in, be close.”
Bill snorted, scratching his neck. “What, like whip up some eggs and bacon?”
Dirk laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, man. How ‘bout we just cuddle?”
Both still naked, their fur damp with sweat, they stepped toward each other. Dirk’s eyes held Bill’s, steady and sure. “Follow my lead,” he murmured, then leaned in, kissing Bill deeply, lips firm and hungry. Bill froze for a split second, caught off guard by the intensity, but then melted into it, his tongue brushing against Dirk’s, tentative at first, then bolder. A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he pulled back just enough to mutter, “Damn, you’re gonna get me hard again.”
Dirk grinned, resting a paw on Bill’s chest. “Hold that thought. You gotta fix my car, I gotta get diapered, and I need to hit the city.”
Bill raised an eyebrow, leaning against the workbench. “What’s the rush?”
“Business conference,” Dirk said, his tone softening. “But I’m coming back, Bill. Count on it.”
Bill’s muzzle split into a slow smile. “Deal.”
The shop had a small shower tucked in the back, and they squeezed in together, the water hot against their fur. They took turns scrubbing each other, paws lingering on shoulders, backs, the moment quiet but comfortable. Back in the shop, Bill unrolled a changing mat on the workbench and patted it. “Hop up,” he said, his voice lighter now.
Dirk lay back, the mat cool against his fur. Bill grabbed a bottle of baby powder, dusting it over Dirk’s groin with slow, deliberate strokes, the scent soft and clean. He pulled out a thick diaper, the kind that crinkled loudly with every move. “This one’s gonna make you waddle all over that city,” Bill said, smirking as he taped it snugly around Dirk’s waist. “Everyone’s gonna know you’re padded. And when I text you for a diaper check, you better send pics.”
Dirk sat up, rubbing his paws over the bulky padding, a flush creeping under his fur as he felt the tent forming at the front. “Holy shit,” he muttered, half-laughing. “I’m really in diapers!”
Bill’s grin turned wicked. “My diaper slave, remember?” He grabbed another diaper for himself, taping it on with practiced ease, then turned back to Dirk’s car, popping the hood. “Lemme get this fixed so you can waddle your ass to that conference.”
Dirk slid off the workbench, the diaper forcing a slight sway in his step, and watched Bill work, the clank of tools filling the shop again.
Eventually, Bill wiped his paws on his rag, slamming the hood of Dirk’s sedan shut with a satisfied thud. “She’s good to go,” he said, stepping back and giving the car a once-over. “No charge, neither. Call it a trade for your soul.” His muzzle quirked into a grin, eyes glinting with mischief.
Dirk snorted, pulling out his wallet. “Nice try,” he said, handing over a stack of bills. “I’m paying. You earned it.”
Bill took the cash with a mock sigh, tucking it into his pocket. “Fair enough. Drive safe, diaper slave.”
Dirk’s ears flicked, a flush creeping under his fur as he climbed into the driver’s seat, the thick diaper crinkling loudly with every move. He gave Bill a quick wave, then pulled out of the lot, the desert road stretching ahead under the fading sun.
Half an hour down the highway, the hum of the engine was steady, but Dirk’s stomach wasn’t. A low grumble twisted through his gut, urgent and undeniable. He glanced around, eyes scanning for a gas station or rest stop, anywhere with a restroom. Then it hit him — he was diapered, the padding snug and bulky under his jeans. His tail twitched, nerves prickling. Messing himself wasn’t part of the plan, and the thought of the smell made his cheeks burn.
But Bill’s voice echoed in his head: Use your diaper completely, no excuses. Dirk’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He pulled over to the shoulder, the gravel crunching under his tires, and checked for passing cars. The road was quiet. He stepped out, heart pounding, and ducked behind the car, squatting low out of sight. With a deep breath, he pushed, feeling the warm, heavy mess suddenly fill his diaper, the plastic crinkling as it swelled. At the same time, a wet heat spread across the front, his bladder letting go without warning. He froze, blushing hard, the vulnerability of it all making his cheeks turn red.
Climbing back into the car, he eased onto the seat, the squish of the mess against his tailhole sending a shiver through him. He grabbed his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen before typing out a quick text to Bill: Filled it, sir! His cheeks burned as he hit send, but the heat in his gut was undeniable. His paw drifted to the front of his diaper, rubbing the thick padding, the crinkle loud in the quiet car. The sensation built fast, and he worked himself harder, his nostrils getting addicted to his bombastic odor until he came, a low moan escaping as his body shuddered.
He sat there for a moment, panting, the diaper warm and heavy beneath him. The highway stretched out ahead, and with a shaky laugh, he started the engine, ready to roll into the city.
Dirk’s sedan rolled into the city as the last streaks of sunset faded, the skyline glowing with neon and streetlights. He pulled into the hotel parking lot, the diaper crinkling under his jeans with every move. Waddling hurriedly across the lot, he dragged his suitcase behind him, ears twitching at every sound, half-expecting someone to notice the bulk and/or the smell. In the lobby, he checked in with clipped words, avoiding the clerk’s eyes, then bolted for the elevator. The second he reached his room, he locked the door, peeled off his jeans, and untaped the heavy, soiled diaper, letting it drop to the bathroom floor with a dull thud. The shower’s hot water washed away the desert dust and the lingering scent, leaving him feeling lighter but oddly exposed.
Staring at the discarded diaper, its cartoonish print now smudged and sagging, he frowned. Housekeeping didn’t need to deal with that. It was evening now, and he grabbed his phone, searching for nearby stores that sold adult diapers and odor-sealing bags. A result popped up — a place called “Cozy Comforts” in a strip mall a few miles away. The reviews mentioned discretion and specialty products, so he threw on fresh clothes, grabbed his keys, and headed out.
The strip mall looked rough, its flickering signs and cracked pavement giving off a seedy vibe. Dirk hesitated, then pushed through the door of Cozy Comforts, a bell jingling softly. Inside, he froze. Shelves lined with adult diapers, onesies, pacifiers, bottles, bibs, and vinyl pants stretched across the small shop, lit by warm, soft lighting. A female orange tabby stood behind the counter, her green eyes bright and welcoming. “Hey there,” she said, her voice smooth as she stepped forward. “I’m Eve, the owner. You look a little nervous. First time?”
Dirk’s ears flicked back, his tail stiff. “Uh, yeah,” he muttered, paws shoving into his pockets. “Didn’t expect… all this.”
Eve smiled, her whiskers twitching. “No worries. This is a safe space, judgment-free. Wanna tour?” She gestured to the shelves, her tone warm but not pushy.
Dirk nodded, relaxing a fraction. Eve took his paw gently, guiding him through the aisles, pointing out thick diapers with playful prints, soft onesies, and even a rack of colorful plastic pants. “Big boys like you need something sturdy,” she said, grabbing a pack of high-capacity diapers from a shelf. “These are great for heavy use. And for disposal…” She pulled a box of odor-sealing bags and a roll of heavy-duty trash bags, stacking them in his arms. “These’ll keep things discreet.”
Dirk’s cheeks warmed, but Eve’s easy confidence put him at ease. She led him to a small changing room at the back, curtained off for privacy. “You can try one on here, if you want,” she said, handing him a free diaper — thick, with bright cartoon animals printed across it. “Take your time.”
In the changing room, Dirk untaped the sample diaper, the crinkle louder than Bill’s, and taped it on, the padding forcing his thighs apart. He caught his reflection in a small mirror, ears pinning back at the sight of the bulky, colorful diaper. Stepping out, he half-expected a laugh, but Eve just smiled. “Looks good on you,” she said, no trace of mockery. “You’re welcome back anytime, even if you’re just browsing. No pressure.”
Dirk managed a smile, gratitude settling in his chest. “Thanks, Eve. Means a lot.”
She packed his purchases — diapers, bags, and a few free extras — into a plain cardboard box, nothing flashy to draw attention. “Take care,” she called as he headed for the door, the bell jingling behind him.
Back in his car, Dirk sat for a moment, the new diaper crinkling under him, the box on the passenger seat. He felt something new — validation, like a weight he hadn’t noticed was lifting. Bill’s words, Eve’s warmth, the day’s wild turn — it all felt like a path he hadn’t expected but didn’t want to turn back from. He started the engine, ready for the conference but already thinking about the road back to Bill’s shop.
Meanwhile, Bill locked the shop’s door, the clank of the deadbolt echoing in the quiet desert evening. He stepped outside, the air cooler now, and lit a cigarette, the glow casting shadows across his face. His jeans were gone — just a worn t-shirt, a soggy diaper sagging slightly, socks, and his scuffed boots. He leaned against the cinderblock wall, exhaling a plume of smoke, his thoughts on Dirk. Guys like him didn’t come through often, not in a nowhere town like this. Bill felt a pang, like a loose bolt rattling in his chest. He’d been coasting, broken in ways he didn’t name until Dirk’s easy grin and bold touch shook something loose. Flicking the cigarette butt into the gravel lot, he climbed into his pickup, the diaper crinkling against the seat. The city wasn’t far, and Dirk had mentioned that conference.
Maybe, just maybe, he could track him down.
In the city, Dirk navigated the bustling conference hall, the hum of voices and clink of coffee cups filling the air. His suit felt too tight, not from the fit but from the thick diaper beneath, its cartoonish print hidden but crinkling faintly with every step. He shook paws with vendors, nodded through product demos, but his mind kept drifting to the padding, hyper-aware of its bulk. At one point, he glanced toward a restroom, a long line snaking out the door, and snickered despite himself. No need for that today. Still, being diapered in a sea of suits made his ears twitch nervously, so he threw himself into small talk with colleagues, hoping to drown out the self-consciousness.
Mid-conversation about market trends, a familiar pressure hit his bladder. The diaper was dry, but the thought of leaking sent a jolt of panic through him. He shifted his weight, trying to focus on his colleague’s words, but the urge grew sharp. Screw it, he thought, and let go, the warm rush of a full bladder’s worth began spreading through the padding, the diaper swelling subtly under his slacks. His tail stiffened, and he zoned out for a second, the sensation overwhelming. His colleagues noticed his distraction, one tilting his head. “You okay, Dirk?”
Dirk forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, just tired. Been driving all day.”
“Get some rest, man,” another said. “You don’t gotta stay the whole time.”
“Nah, still gotta network, hit up some vendors,” Dirk replied, his voice steady despite the warm, heavy diaper hugging him. “I’ll head out soon.”
He excused himself, weaving through the crowd, the crinkle faint but ever-present in his mind, wondering if Bill was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of that shop.
Dirk moved through the conference hall, the buzz of voices and clinking glasses fading into the background as his mind fixated on the warm, wet diaper hugging his hips. Each step made the padding graze his hardening cock and balls, a secret thrill no one around him could guess. The sensation was deeply thrilling, and he caught himself grinning, relishing the hidden rebellion of it all. His thoughts drifted to his hotel room. Maybe he’d ditch the conference early, jerk off, and crash for the night.
Then he saw him. Bill, standing across the hall, looking sharper than Dirk expected in a button-up shirt and slacks, the faint crinkle of his own diaper barely noticeable under the tailored fit. He was deep in conversation with a couple of Dirk’s colleagues, gesturing confidently, a beer in one paw. Dirk’s ears perked, his heart kicking up a notch. He wove through the crowd, the diaper’s warmth still teasing him, and stopped beside Bill.
“Wait. What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, voice half-laughing, half-stunned.
Bill turned, his muzzle curling into a cool, easy grin. “Just catchin’ up with some old friends,” he said, nodding toward the colleagues. His eyes flicked to Dirk. “Figured I’d swing by, see what’s what.”
Dirk’s colleagues chimed in, one clapping Bill on the shoulder. “This guy’s got stories from the old days,” he said. “Knew him back in engineering school. Dude’s a wizard with machines.”
Dirk blinked, his tail giving a slight wag. “Engineering school?” He looked at Bill, reassessing. “You’re full of surprises.”
Bill shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Got a master’s in it way back in the days of yore. Worked design for a bit before I settled on fixin’ cars. Keeps my paws busy.” He leaned closer, voice dropping so only Dirk could hear. “Plus, I heard a certain padded shepherd might be here.”
Dirk’s cheeks flushed, the diaper suddenly feeling heavier, warmer. He glanced at his colleagues, who were now distracted by a passing vendor, and muttered, “Kinda glad you showed up.”
Bill’s grin widened, and he clinked his bottle against Dirk’s glass. “Stick around, pup. Night’s young.”
Dirk and Bill moved through the conference like they were in their own bubble. Bill’s paw brushed Dirk’s arm as they walked, his stride easy. Dirk kept pace, his own diaper warm and heavy under his slacks, the sensation teasing him with every step. Bill leaned in, teasing but edged with something sharper. “I can smell ya, pup,” he murmured, his muzzle close to Dirk’s ear. “Not just diapered, but wet, too. Bet you’re soakin’ that thing like some feral beast.”
Dirk’s ears pinned back, a flush creeping up his neck. He couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes. “You’re gonna make me blush in front of all these suits,” he muttered, half-laughing, half-bashful. “Goddamn.”
Bill’s grin widened, toothy and unapologetic. “Good. I’m proud of you. Usin’ that diaper like you were born to it. Just a wild, incontinent thing, needin’ a stronger dog to keep you in line.” He bumped Dirk’s shoulder, his tone playful but perfectly laced with command.
Dirk’s mind raced. The words stirred something deep, and he glanced away, voice dropping. “I’m picturing you slappin’ a collar on me, tuggin’ a leash. That’s how much you got me wrapped up, man.”
Bill’s eyes darkened. “That so?” He paused, letting the words hang, then continued walking, his voice casual but thick with intent. “Y’know, I love wettin’ my diaper around folks like this. Don’t care who’s nearby. It’s like a little reminder — I need ‘em, so I crave ‘em. Thing is…” He leaned closer, his breath warm against Dirk’s fur. “Mine’s too damn full to take another piss in ’em right now.”
Dirk swallowed, his pulse quickening as Bill’s muzzle grazed his neck, a brief, electric kiss that sent a shiver down his spine. “How ‘bout we find a restroom?” Bill suggested, his voice smooth but urgent. “Got some urgent business to take care of.”
Dirk nodded, wordless, and followed Bill through the crowd, the conference fading into a blur. They slipped out of the hall, into the hotel’s quieter corridors, until they found a single-occupancy restroom tucked near a service exit. Bill pushed the door open, holding it for Dirk, and locked it behind them with a soft click. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly, the space small but clean, with a floor urinal against one wall and a sink opposite.
The second the lock clicked, Bill was on him, paws gripping Dirk’s shoulders as he pulled him into a hungry kiss. Their muzzles crashed together, tongues tangling, the heat of it stealing Dirk’s breath. They fumbled with each other’s clothes. Bill’s button-up hit the floor, followed by Dirk’s jacket and tie. Slacks dropped, revealing their diapers, Bill’s sagging heavily, Dirk’s swollen and damp. Bill broke the kiss and looked Dirk over, standing there in just his soggy diaper. “Lean back,” he said, nodding toward the floor urinal. “Right there.”
Dirk hesitated, then stepped back, the cold porcelain of the urinal pressing against his bare fur. The thought hit him — how many guys had stood here, used this thing — and his tail twitched, a mix of unease and thrill. Bill stepped closer, his voice low and commanding. “Look at you, pressed up against a urinal, wearin’ one ‘round your hips. You’re a urinal now, pup. My urinal.”
Dirk’s ears flattened, his sense of self slipping as Bill’s words sank in. The idea of being owned, of being Bill’s property, his diaper slave, flooded him with a strange, intoxicating surrender. He met Bill’s gaze, voice soft but raw. “I want you to use me,” he said. “Wanna be your servant, Bill. Whatever you want. Mark me.”
Bill’s muzzle curled into a wicked smile. He reached down, untaping his own diaper with a slow, deliberate rip, letting it fall to the tile with a wet thud. His cock was already half-hard, his fur matted from the diaper’s weight. “I don’t piss outside these much,” he said, stepping closer. “So this is a treat for you.” He aimed, and a warm stream hit Dirk’s chest, cascading down his fur, soaking into the front of his diaper. Dirk gasped, the liquid heat shocking but arousing, his cock twitching against the padding.
He reached for his diaper, desperate to rub himself.
“Not yet,” Bill growled, eyes locked on Dirk’s. “Hold up.”
Dirk whimpered, his body trembling with need, but he nodded, submitting to Bill’s control. The piss slowed to a trickle, leaving Dirk’s chest glistening with the mechanic’s scent, his diaper much heavier now, the warmth pooling against his groin. Bill stepped closer, his paw trailing down Dirk’s side, teasing but not giving him what he craved. “You’re mine to use,” Bill murmured with promise.
The restroom’s fluorescent light cast a stark glow over Dirk and Bill Bill’s diaper lay discarded on the tile, his fur still damp from its weight. He stood over Dirk, who leaned against the cold porcelain of the floor urinal, his own diaper swollen and glistening from Bill’s earlier stream. Bill’s paw moved to his cock, stroking it slowly, coaxing it to full hardness, the thick length twitching in his grip. His eyes locked on Dirk’s with ravenous hunger and confidence in his gaze.
“Haven’t had my dick sucked in years, I’m sad to say,” he said, voice low and gravelly, a faint smirk tugging at his muzzle. “Reason being is I always worried I’d lose it mid-blow. Piss right in someone’s mouth like the incontinent mutt that I am. But I have a good feeling about you.” He leaned closer, his free paw brushing Dirk’s cheek. “You’re my diaper slave now. My urinal. Bet you wouldn’t mind a little accident.”
Dirk’s ears flicked, his cheeks flushing under his fur, but his eyes burned with eager submission. He nodded, lips parting slightly, and murmured, “I’ll take whatever you give me, Sir.” Closing his eyes, he opened his maw wide, tongue curling slightly in anticipation. Bill guided his cock forward, the tip brushing Dirk’s lips, and Dirk took him in, the salty, musky taste flooding his senses. It was heady, raw, the bulldog’s scent a mix of sweat and musky need that made Dirk’s cock throb against the wet padding of his diaper. He bobbed his head, slow at first, lips sealing around Bill’s shaft, tongue swirling along the underside as he found a rhythm.
Bill’s moan rumbled deep in his chest, a rough sound that echoed off the restroom tiles. His paw settled on Dirk’s head, fingers ruffling the shepherd’s fur, guiding him gently but firmly. “Oh, fuck, pup!” he growled, his hips twitching slightly, matching Dirk’s pace. “You’ve been cravin’ this cock, haven’t you? Suckin’ me off like the smelly, diapered whore that you are.”
Dirk’s response was a muffled, hearty moan, the vibration sending a shiver through Bill’s cock. His head moved faster now, taking Bill deeper, the salty taste mixing with the faint tang of piss still coating his fur. His diaper crinkled with every shift, the wet padding rubbing against his hardening cock, amplifying the heat pooling in his gut. Bill’s praise came again, voice rough with pleasure. “Good boy,” he said, his paw tightening in Dirk’s fur, thumb stroking along his ear. “My good fuckin’ boy.”
Dirk’s tail wagged once, involuntary, his moans growing louder, more desperate, as he sucked harder, lips and tongue working in sync. Bill’s hips rocked forward. Bill’s other paw braced against the wall, claws scraping faintly as he fought to keep control, his cock pulsing against Dirk’s tongue, the edge of release creeping closer.
Dirk’s paws gripped Bill’s shaft, his fingers firm but careful as he took more of the bulldog’s cock into his maw, lips stretching around its girth. The salty, musky taste overwhelmed his senses, and he leaned into it, tongue swirling with deliberate care. Bill’s moans grew louder, a deep, huffing sound. His paw covered his eyes, claws digging into his own fur as his hips bucked slightly, the pleasure hitting him hard. “Fuck, pup,” he gasped, voice raw, “you’re killin’ me. This is so good.”
Dirk’s mind spun in a haze of submission, his body trembling with the thrill of surrender. As he worked Bill’s cock, he imagined the possibilities — Bill yanking him by a leash, deciding when and where to assert control, maybe dragging him into a back room or a dark alley, diapered and helpless. The thought of being owned, of Bill dictating how long he’d stay padded, excited him to the point of drooling bliss. He wanted to please, to leave a mark so deep Bill would crave this again, would demand more moments like this. His tongue flicked along the underside of Bill’s shaft, his head bobbing with a steady, passionate rhythm, determined to make this unforgettable.
The wet diaper was tightly fastened to Dirk’s hips, the mix of Bill’s piss and his own earlier wetting rubbing against his cock with every subtle shift. The sensation was maddening, his shaft throbbing, red and sensitive against the soaked padding. His balls tightened, and without warning, he came hard, cum spilling into the diaper, coating his tip and pooling warm around his balls, mingling with the lingering warmth of his master’s piss. A muffled moan vibrated against Bill’s cock, Dirk’s eyes fluttering shut as the climax shook him.
Bill’s paw tightened in Dirk’s fur. “Gonna cum, pup. I need to cum! I’m going to cum!” he warned, voice strained, hips jerking forward. Dirk quickened his pace, head moving faster, lips sealing tight as he sucked with fervor. Bill’s growl turned into a loud groan, and he came, thick ropes of cum flooding Dirk’s maw. Dirk swallowed eagerly, savoring the bitter, salty taste, his throat working to take every drop. He didn’t pull back until Bill was spent, the bulldog’s cock slipping from his lips with a wet pop.
Bill leaned against the wall, panting, his paw dropping from his eyes to reveal a dazed, satisfied grin. “Holy shit,” he said, voice hoarse. “That was fuckin’ amazing.”
Dirk licked his lips, still kneeling, his diaper heavy and warm. He grinned, catching his breath. “Yeah, it was,” he said, his voice thick with excitement. “Can’t wait to see what kinda trouble we get into next.”
Bill chuckled, ruffling Dirk’s headfur with a lazy, affectionate pat. “Oh, pup. Give me a minute to catch my breath, and we can talk shop after that. Goodness!”
Dirk and Bill slipped out of the conference hall, the hum of the crowd fading as they stepped into the hotel’s quieter corridors. Dirk led the way to his room, the crinkle of his soaked diaper muffled under his slacks but ever-present in his mind. Bill followed close, his own diaper hidden beneath his tailored pants, a faint smirk on his muzzle. The moment they reached Dirk’s room, the door clicked shut behind them, and Dirk turned the lock with a soft snap. They shed their clothes in a hurry. Jackets, shirts, and slacks hit the floor in a scattered pile, leaving them in just their heavy, sagging diapers.
Dirk glanced at the bed, its crisp sheets inviting, and gestured toward it with a grin, his tail wagging slightly. “Ready for round two?” he asked, voice low and eager, his eyes glinting with anticipation.
Bill chuckled, waving a paw dismissively, though his gaze lingered on Dirk’s padded form. “Slow down, pup. We both reek like a damn locker room. Shower first. Please.” He nodded toward the bathroom, already heading that way, his diaper crinkling with each step.
Dirk laughed, following him. “Fair enough.” They stepped into the bathroom, the walk-in shower spacious and tiled in sleek white. Dirk untaped his diaper, letting it fall with a wet thud, while Bill did the same, their fur matted and musky from the day’s intensity. The shower hissed to life, steam curling up as hot water poured down. They stepped in together, the heat enveloping them, loosening the tension in their shoulders.
Under the spray, Bill pulled Dirk close, their muzzles eagerly crashing together in a passionate kiss. Water streamed over their fur, slicking it down as their tongues tangled, the steam amplifying the heat between them. Dirk’s paws roamed Bill’s broad back, feeling the muscle beneath, while Bill’s hands gripped Dirk’s hips, firm but gentle. They broke apart for a moment, panting, foreheads pressed together, the water drumming around them.
Dirk’s lips quirked into a grin, his voice soft but clear over the shower’s hiss. “Honestly, I’m glad my car crapped out when it did. Right there in your town. Never would’ve met you otherwise.”
Bill’s eyes softened, a rare vulnerability flickering across his face. He brushed a wet strand of fur from Dirk’s cheek, his voice low and earnest. “Yeah, well, I’m grateful for you, pup. Ain’t easy bein’ open about my little situation.” He gestured vaguely at himself, the implication of his incontinence and diapers clear. “You didn’t just accept it and accept me, you made it so freakin’ fun. Made me feel like it’s something to lean into — maybe celebrate it, even — and not hide.”
Dirk’s tail wagged, water flicking off it. “Hell, it’s more than fun,” he murmured. “It’s you..”
Bill’s grin returned, warm and a little wicked, and he pulled Dirk into another kiss, deeper this time, their bodies pressed close under the cascading water. The steam swirled around them, their connection palpable, a thread of trust and desire tying them together in the small, warm world of the shower. The day’s chaos felt distant, like it belonged to someone else. For now, it was just them, lips locked, paws exploring.
The next day, Dirk’s sedan rumbled back into the familiar gravel lot of Bill’s Auto Repair, the desert sun high and unrelenting. The shop’s doors were shut, the lights off, a “Closed” sign hanging crookedly in the window. Dirk parked, pantless with his diaper exposed, still thick from the new pack he’d bought at Cozy Comforts. He’d barely cut the engine when Bill appeared from the side of the building, his t-shirt stained with grease, a fresh diaper peeking above the waistband of his loose jeans. Without a word, Bill climbed into the passenger seat, the door thudding shut behind him.
Dirk grinned, tail wagging, and leaned over, their muzzles meeting in a slow, heated kiss. Their lips danced against each other, tongues brushing. The car’s interior shrunk to just the two of them. Bill’s paw found Dirk’s neck, pulling him closer, the kiss deepening until they were both breathless. Pulling back, Bill’s eyes locked menacingly onto Dirk, with his voice turning into low, lustful whisper.
“Push all those big boy thoughts out, pup,” he murmured, his breath warm against Dirk’s ear. “Mess that diaper for me. Right now.”
Dirk’s ears flicked, a flush creeping up his fur. His heart raced. “You’re serious?” he asked, voice shaky but curious.
Bill’s grin was wicked, his paw resting on Dirk’s thigh, close to the diaper’s bulge. “Dead serious. You are my diaper slave, aren’t you? When I tell you, ‘Mess your diaper,’ you do exactly what I say. Drive home with that thing full. Sit in your own mess, right on the edge of needin’ a change. Ain’t no one around to help you out there. You might even leak through those pants.” He leaned closer, voice dropping lower. “And if you do, that just confirms what you and I already know: you’re in diapers all day, every day.”
Dirk swallowed, his cock twitching against the padding at the thought. Bill’s paw squeezed his thigh, encouraging. “Just relax,” Bill coached, his tone firm but patient. “Sit back, let it happen. Push slow, let it fill.”
Dirk nodded. He leaned back in the seat, eyes half-closed, and focused, his body tensing as he pushed. The heavy and thick warmth spread, with his diaper expanding and swelled beneath him. He panted softly, the sensation overwhelming. The mess settled, warm against his tailhole, and he shifted slightly, the squish sending a shiver through him.
Bill watched, eyes dark with approval. “Good boy,” he said, reaching into a bag at his feet. He pulled out a wireless Hitachi wand, its sleek white surface catching the light filtering through the car windows. With a click, it hummed to life, the vibration steady and strong. Bill pressed it against Dirk’s diapered bulge, right over the thickening padding, and Dirk gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily. “That’s it,” Bill murmured. “Get that diaper full and sticky for daddy. Gonna make sure you enjoy that long ride home the best way you know how.”
Dirk’s moans filled the car, soft at first but growing louder as Bill moved the wand in slow, deliberate circles, the vibrations pulsing through the soaked and messed diaper. The sensation was intense, the pressure building fast as the wand teased his cock through the thick, soggy layer of padding. Dirk’s paws gripped the steering wheel, claws digging into the leather. Bill leaned in, his free paw squeezing the front of Dirk’s diaper, feeling the heat and weight of it. “C’mon, pup,” he urged, his voice thick with command. “Let go for me.”
Dirk’s body tensed, his tail twitching, and then he came, a shuddering climax that left his diaper sticky and warm, his cum mixing with the mess inside. He panted, head tipped back, a dazed grin spreading across his muzzle. Bill turned off the wand, setting it aside, and leaned over, kissing Dirk deeply, their lips lingering, the taste of each other grounding the moment. “Good boy,” Bill whispered against his lips, giving the diaper one last squeeze before pulling back.
Bill climbed out of the car, his boots crunching on the gravel as he walked to the shop’s large door and rolled it open with a loud rattle. “Drive safe, pup,” he called, his grin wide and warm. “Text me when you arrive home, safe and sound, alright babe?”
Dirk laughed, still catching his breath, the diaper heavy and squishing beneath him. He started the engine, the car humming to life, and pulled out of the lot, the desert road stretching ahead. A smile lingered on his face, his thoughts already drifting to the next time he’d see Bill. The highway beckoned, and he drove on, eager for whatever trouble they’d find next.
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