A Dish Best Served Fairly: Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, bondage, humiliation, domination, diaper-filling, masturbation/diaper sex, hypermessing, WAM, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Co-Written By: LittlePissy

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By mid-afternoon, the temperature in the rural midwest can reach up to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. And on a cloudless day with the sun beating down, it can start to feel even hotter. This went doubly so for Morgan, who found herself in perhaps the most uncomfortable place to be whilst in the midst of a heat wave; that being stuffed inside of a giant mascot costume with almost no ventilation.

It was day three and with only a few hours left in the fair, she was excited to be getting out of this stupid hick town. Sadly, her last day of volunteering had been less than pleasant thanks to the sweltering fursuit. “Go Tigers!” shouted Morgan half-heartedly as she trudged around the fair aimlessly, taking photos with kids and doing shout-outs for high school football fans. According to Cindy, “Even you can’t possibly fuck this job up. Just walk around the fair and try to be pleasant.” And so, here she was, waltzing around the fairgrounds performing the job she had previously pitied someone for doing only 12 hours prior.

As if being stuffed inside a costume that smelled like dry sweat and Doritos wasn’t bad enough, Morgan also had to deal with the putrid stench of her own diaper. As soon as the suit was on, she figured out rather quickly that unless someone unzipped her back, she would be able to get out of the suit on her own, save for removing the head. This meant that when it came time to do her business, she had no choice but to fill her diaper, forcing her to be on the move constantly with a loaded nappy squishing between her thighs. Adding insult to injury, the suit was practically air-tight, which while good for helping mask the scent around other fairgoers, meant that the smell only compounded over time, making her feel slightly noxious if she didn’t lift the mascot head every ten minutes or so.

Keeping to her word, Cindy had made sure to give Morgan a job that she would absolutely hate. In truth, it was just about the most grueling job she’d ever been made to do. However, for as bad as it was, the one thing she could rest easy on was the fact that Sawyer, Alyssa, and Karley would not be present for the remainder of the weekend to sabotage her at every turn. So long as she could keep her head down and do her work over the next two days, she’d never have to see these pig-fuckers ever again.

“Oh, Morgan!” said Cindy in a sing-songy voice as she waved Morgan into the volunteer's tent, offering her a seat and a bottle of water, “Solid work today. Been getting a lot of good feedback from guests about our very enthusiastic mascot.” She placed her hands on each side of Morgan’s shoulders and gave her a tiny squeeze as she lied effortlessly. In truth, several people had actually complained about Morgan’s dreary attitude. That didn’t really matter to her though, as the satisfaction of taunting El Tigre Morgan was just too delicious to pass up.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her fuzzy mitten, Morgan was too tired to worry about her mushy seat as she breathed in deeply through her nose, relishing the wealth of fresh air she had at her disposal. “Yeah, well…it’s all for the kids, right?” she said, her words so dishonest that neither she didn’t even try to make them sound believable.

“So happy to hear you say that because we’re gonna need you at the center ring to pass out ribbons to the prize-winning animals and their handlers in about…ten minutes,” said Cindy without a hint of remorse in her voice.

Groaning, Morgan was hoping her break would be longer than a handful of minutes. Sadly, this was obviously not the case as Cindy was quick to plop the mascot's head back onto her shoulders. “Whatever, just please give me a longer break after that. I feel like I’m gonna have a heat stroke in this thing,” she said dejectedly.

“I promise, you’ll get plenty of rest after prizes,” said Cindy, grabbing onto both of Morgan’s arms and yanking her to her feet, “Oh, by the way! Can you give my thanks to Alyssa for her offer last night? I’d be more than happy to join.”

Alyssa? Offer? Happy to join? What on Earth was Cindy talking about?! “I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said, anxiously anticipating Cindy’s response.

“I’m talking about your sorority, silly! I’ll be a Michigan State Spartan with you, Alyssa, and the others in less than two weeks! And while I wasn’t initially planning on getting involved with Rush Week, I was so flattered by the offer that I figured I might as well give it a shot!” said Cindy, who was practically bouncing up and down as she let Morgan know that she’d be a thorn in her side for the foreseeable future, “Plus, since I am a certified babysitter, you can just come to me whenever you need a change. I’ll be more than happy to oblige!” Petting the top of Morgan’s fuzzy head, she turned to exit the tent, skipping merrily until she was out of Morgan’s sightline.

While the mascot head she had on was wearing a big smile, underneath the suit, Morgan was fuming in more ways than one. “So that’s what those two were whispering about last night. How fucking dare Alyssa pull a stunt like that?” thought Morgan, stewing in anger over having yet another person present at Tri Delta who knew about her messy past. No doubt she’d be indoctrinated by Sawyer to fuck with her at every turn in no time.

Making her way through the fair toward the center ring, Morgan’s bitterness only grew as she watched all the fairgoers around her deep-throating deep fried foods on a sick and slurping on 64-ounce sodas as they let their annoying children run rampant. There was a reason she avoided spending time at this crumby fair as a kid. She couldn’t stand small-town people with small-town minds. Holding the belief that she was above any kind of person who would voluntarily waste such perfect beach weather on a bunch of side-show attractions, she held her head up high in spite of her current position, knowing that when this was all over, she’d get to take off the mascot costume, but they’d still be a bunch of dumb hicks.

*BUMP!*

“OOOOF!”

Suddenly, while Morgan was in the midst of her own internal monologue, some kid in a hoodie just so happened to ram right into her, slamming against the right side of her body before moving on without even so much as an excuse me. “Hey, watch it, kid!” she shouted, whipping her head around to call out to the little punk before setting off toward the precious barn animals yet again.

Meanwhile, the “kid” that had “accidentally” bumped into Morgan ducked around the nearby booth before removing her hood. “Have fun playing with all the animals, Morgi-Bean,” said Sawyer, snickering as she looked down at the bottle of pig aphrodisiac spray in her hand, having just spritzed as much of the bottle as she could onto Morgan’s tiger suit.

After her most recent run-in with Morgan went South in the worst imaginable way possible, Sawyer knew she had to be more tactful with how she dealt with Morgan moving forward. Direct attacks would be far too risky now that her arch nemesis was back to full strength. Instead, she began devising plans on how to humiliate Morgan without even needing to be present when the bomb actually went off. And for as satisfying as it would be to watch the show that Morgan was sure to put on, she’d already done everything she needed to, and sticking around would only implicate her as the mastermind. Pulling the black sweatshirt off of her body that she had been roasting in for the past thirty minutes, she dropped the spray into the backpack she had stashed behind the booth and tied the hoodie around her waist before heading toward the parking lot with the sweet taste of victory coating her tongue.

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“And now it’s time to announce the winner of our 4-H and FFA Swine Show! Contestants, please present your pigs for the final time,” said the livestock competition host, earning a modest applause from the audience as he welcomed the twelve pigs in competition to the center of the ring, along with their proud owners.

Standing next to the host with a big blue ribbon in her hand was Morgan, who was currently struggling to stay upright thanks to the slick, muddy terrain. Apparently, while they may have wanted the mascot present to help hand out awards, no one took the time to consider how difficult it would be to walk on mud with fur-covered shoes.

One by one, Morgan watched as all twelve middle schoolers marched in a perfect line as they showed off their prized animals. Well…almost all twelve.

*OINK! OINK!*

Suddenly, Morgan’s attention was pulled downward as one of the pigs began nudging the back of her legs as the owner walked them by. “Sorry! She’s usually more well-behaved,” said the young handler as he struggled to pull his pig away from Morgan. Unfortunately, the fattened-up barn animal had other plans in mind, continuing to butt its head against the back of Morgan's knees.

“S-Shoo! Be a good pig and go play with the others,” said Morgan, failing to coerce the pig into joining his friends. However, as she looked up toward the other pigs, her heart skipped a beat as all eleven were looking at her despite their owners’ attempts to wrangle them in. Side-stepping the porker behind her, she was forced to back up as the pigs encircled her on all sides

Before long, she found herself cornered, with her only escape being the open gate to the pig pen. As her retreat carried her past the red metal bars that made up the pen’s entrance, she was unaware of how much deeper and thicker the mud that the collective of pigs roosted in would be.

Planting her right foot down, Morgan yelped as her ankle sunk nearly half a foot into dark brown sludge. This caused her to counter-balance with her left foot, resulting in both of her legs sinking deep into the soupy mixture of cool mud and animal feces. She reached down in hopes of prying her legs free before the swine advanced on her. Tragically, there was nowhere near enough time to accomplish such a feat as the pigs shoved their way into the pig pen, bumping Morgan with their round bodies just enough to send her tumbling to the ground.

*SPLAAAAAT!!!*

The audience gasped as the mascot tiger's head rolled to the edge of the pig pen before coming to a stop with a wet plop. Lifting her head up with mud caked on her face, Morgan sucked in a deep breath of air as she pressed the fuzzy mittens to her face, trying to clear as much filth from her eye, nose, and mouth as possible. That was until one of the pigs climbed on top of her, shoving her face into the mud again for a second helping.

Unable to perform the actions that its biological senses were encouraging it to do, the pig could do nothing but feebly hump at the back of Morgan’s mascot suit. Each thrust mashed Morgan’s face into the bubbly mud, giving her only seconds at a time to breathe at a time. All the while, the pig’s body weight continued to drive itself into the messy diaper Morgan was wearing, smearing and smushing the mess all over her supple rump. “Get th-MMMF! This fuckin-MMMF! Thing off of m-MMMF!”

Jumping into the fray, it took less than a minute for a team of professional animal handlers to pry all the animals off of Morgan, but the damage had already been done. Scooping swaths of mud away from her orifices, she rolled over onto her back and caught her breath. No longer caring about how messy she was, she leaned her head back against the wet mud and looked up at the cloudless sky, smiling wearily as she daydreamed about the silky sheet and private shower she had waiting for her back at Tri Delta.

Mercifully, the summer was officially over, and it was time for the new semester to officially begin.

THE END??

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