Sheriff Wolfi (Commission)

Context for this one: Wolfi is a wolf, a wild west sheriff, and is diaper-dependent. 

Wolfi raised his paw, gesturing to the bartender. “Another round, please.” 

The Saloon’s owner looked up, nodding and reaching for the bottle he kept beneath the bar. 

Tapping a claw on the bar, the wolf waited for his drink, letting his mind wander until he felt- 

Oh no. 

Without his input, he felt a shift deep in his midsection as his body acted without his control. The cloth diapers he wore began to swell, filling up to capacity. The back of his overalls sagged over the edge of the bar stool, and most concerningly, the space around the sheriff began to smell. 

He blushed, eyeing the space around him, praying that nobody had noticed. The bathroom was all the way across the bar, but if nobody had seen anything, it was possible he’d be able to slip away and change without being spotted. 

If I act too quickly, will it seem suspicious? 

“Here you go, Wolfi,” the barkeep said, pouring out a shot and sliding over the glass. “I’ll add it to your tab.” Wrinkling his nose, he added, “You smell that, hoss? I think something got under the floorboards.”

“Erm… no,” the sheriff wolf said, hopping up from the bar. “G-gotta go. Be right back!” 

Turning, he hurried towards the saloon’s bathroom. Nobody noticed, right? It’s fine, I just- “Oof!” 

One of his wool-lined boots caught a nick in the floorboard and he went off balance and toppled forward. 

Had he just stumbled, it might have been okay, but Wolfi tried to shift his other leg around, paws pinwheeling in the air for balance, accidentally slipping the straps of his overalls off his shoulders with all the flailing. His boot snagged the bottom pant hem, and without the shoulder straps keeping it up, the overalls slipped and fell.

All this happened in the space of a quarter second as he flew forward, landing in a sprawl on the ground, overalls bunched up around his ankles. His dark, stained diapers were exposed to the whole saloon, and with the loud, attention-grabbing display from falling over, all eyes were on him. 

He ‘meeped’ in alarm and rolled over, trying to pull his overalls back up. They were tangled around his boots and with the belt and holsters he wore, though, and his first frantic attempts to conceal his bulging, soggy padding were to no avail. 

For a second, the bar around him was silent, as the other patrons craned their necks to see what was going on. A few people stared, some in confusion or surprise, others unsure what they were even looking at. 

The gold-star pin that kept his diaper up glinted slightly as sunlight filtered through the windows into the silent bar. 

One giggle broke the silence. Some cowboy at the card table snickered, and then a few more patrons started to chuckle, and before long the laughter had rolled through the whole saloon. Not everyone had joined in, but enough had, and Wolfi’s blush turned his whole face bright red. 

Scrambling, Wolfi tried to get to his feet, slipped, and landed on his mushy bottom with a little ‘thud’. Pawing at the jumble of denim and leather, he got the belt untangled from the boots and pulled them up, so that his feet weren’t completely tangled. 

Holding the overalls with one paw, Wolfi pulled his hat down over his face with the other and again got to his feet, waddling towards the bathroom. 

Turning the handle, it clicked. Locked. From inside, someone called, “Occupied!” 

Noooo! 

Hitching his overalls up higher, Wolfi stepped back, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for his turn. Seconds stretched like hours until the toilet flushed, the sink ran for a few moments, and finally, the door clicked. 

A fox stepped out, gesturing back towards the bathroom. “All you- uh…” He hesitated, wrinkling his snout in reaction and quickly retreating to the other side of the bar, where the air was a little cleaner. 

Wolfi stepped inside, slammed the door, and locked it shut.