[This is a sequel to the mini-story Aaron Suits Up, available in my gallery.] 

“Which ones are we selling?”

“Only the ones that have been here five years or longer.”

“So that’s this one, this one, annnnd… this one.”

Aaron perked his rubber-clad ears, hopeful for an order as the foreman pointed at him. A wave of pleasure gratified him as the foreman said “You three, this way.  You’re getting new homes.”  He dripped precum into his padding as he obeyed, savoring the act of putting one foot in front of the other. The constant sexual arousal caused him to adopt the stereotypical Suit posture, a little bit hunched over, eyes aimed at the ground in front of him. Those on the outside assumed this posture was just slavish deference, and to some extent they were right. But it was also the constant distraction of the arousal in Aaron’s diaper that caused him to walk that way.

He had an orgasm – his fifth that day – in the back of the van transporting him. The vibrations from the drive combined with the pleasure he was taking from holding VERY still, just as the foreman had said, to drive him over the edge. The air inside the Suit smelled like a heady mixture of fox urine, cum, and the musky gas that was now Aaron’s life. He was vaguely aware that others outside the Suit couldn’t smell it at all, and in fact mostly didn’t know that he was experiencing it. The only time his Suit was opened was when his bottom flap came down for diaper changes, and that was always done by another Suit.

Five years of work at the waste reclamation facility had left Aaron’s conscious mind almost completely oblivious to anything except his own pleasure, building slowly, peaking, exploding, recessing, and then slowly building again. This time, after he finished cumming, he used the opportunity to release his bladder into his diaper.  He didn’t have to do that consciously; it would take care of it on its own. But he knew that it was sometimes uncomfortable if he had to go while he was erect, so he let go now, the warm pee soaking the padding between his legs.  Wrapped up in the physical pleasure of relieving himself, he barely noticed as the van stopped and his body followed the order to get out.

Aaron had come to love that little part of his brain that automatically followed orders. It took care of so much for him. He couldn’t overrule it, but he’d never really wanted to. Mostly, he ignored it and let it get on with its business. But now, as he stood in front of the van in the dimly-lit parking lot, that part of his brain began to scream for his attention.  He’d almost forgotten what that felt like – he so rarely needed to make conscious decisions about his life that it took him several seconds to focus on the person standing in front of him.

Aaron’s fur tried to stand on end underneath the Suit. For the first time in his life after sentencing, he tried to turn and run. His body didn’t move an inch. Instead, he stared helplessly through the rose-tinted lenses at the tall deer standing in front of him.

Jeremy! No, I killed you! I’m sorry!

No, he realized after a moment. Not Jeremy – the antlers were too stubby, and the muzzle slightly too long.  Jeremy’s brother, Simon.

“You have the payment?” The foreman asked. Simon handed over a credit chip, his eyes locked on Aaron. 

“I only want that one,” he said, pointing at the fox. Silently panicking, Aaron wondered how the deer could recognize him at all under Suit, identical to every other one.

The foreman nodded.  “He’s all yours. Remember, the mask comes off no more than once a week, if at all.  I don’t think he’s had it off in five years, so you can just leave it unless there’s some kind of emergency.”

“You, come,” Simon said.  Despite his terror, Aaron obeyed in more ways than one.

***

Aaron sat in the passenger seat of the shiny pickup, staring straight ahead. He knew he was going to die. Even though he had only a shadow of a life, he wanted desperately to keep it, but the tension coming off of the deer driving the truck was almost powerful enough to smell through his Suit.

“You killed Jeremy, didn’t you?”

The Suit immediately nodded.  Aaron had no way of lying to a direct yes-or-no question.  The truck headed down the interstate as the sun set, passing out of the high-tech suburbs and toward open country. Aaron sat perfectly still. He sucked on his mouthpiece, desperate for the disconnected feeling the gas gave him, but his fear kept his attention focused on his surroundings in a way that had become uncomfortable and unfamiliar to him.  Trees flew by outside the pickup window. 

After half an hour of driving in silence, Simon pulled over to the side of the road. The sun was setting behind a large white farmhouse sitting on a little hill overlooking a wide field, a red barn in the distance behind the field.  On the other side of the road, the land fell off in a sharp cliff, forming a gorge that ended with a shallow river forty feet below. “Get out.”

Aaron opened the door and stood in front of the car, waiting for Simon.  The deer ambled slowly over, his hooves kicking the gravel on the side of the road.  “I almost wanna take off your hood, just to see your braindead drugged-out face. But you don’t deserve to feel this beautiful day in your fur.”  He paused, as if waiting for a reply. Aaron gave none, peering at the ground several feet in front of him with his pink, round lenses.

“Jump,” Simon said, pointing at the edge of the gorge. Aaron immediately began to move across the road.  His knees shook with the combined terror and pleasure at obeying.  He closed his eyes, feeling his body put one foot in front of the other. He knew walking blindly off the edge didn’t entirely qualify as “jumping,” but it was close enough, and he didn’t want to see the black chasm approaching.

“Stop.”  Aaron immediately froze.  Slowly, he opened his eyes.  A foot from the edge.  “God, you really woulda, wouldn’t you?”  Simon walked over to Aaron at the other side of the road.  “Just like they said.”  He shook his head.  “I ain’t gonna kill you. Jeremy wouldn’t have wanted it, and I’d probably end up in a Suit myself. But I wanted to make sure… I had to know you were safe to be around.”  Aaron felt dizzy. The fear that was keeping his dissociation at bay began to recede, and he felt the effects of the gas double-strong as they came back.  “I’ve worked this farm on my own for the last five years, no brother to help,” Simon continued, “and I can’t do it any more. You’re gonna fix that.” The Suit nodded emphatically. Aaron’s consciousness flooded with relief and vanished almost entirely as the little automatic center of his brain took over again.

***

He only came back to awareness of the outside world because someone called his name. It was a strange experience. Nobody at the waste reclamation facility had known or cared about any of the Suits’ names.  Simon knew it, of course.

“Aaron! You can stop.”

The Suit froze, and Aaron took stock of his surroundings.  He was in a stable, holding a shovel, with several other implements lined up against a wall.  Morning light shone in through the windows – he had worked through the night. The wood-slat floor, though stained and weathered, was as clean as possible, though his own Suit was smeared with manure. His nose was full of the scent of filth, but not from the outside. He never smelled anything outside the Suit. He had soiled his diaper at some point during the night.

“I gotta bring the horses back in. Go wait outside.”  Simon gave a low whistle as he looked around the barn.  Aaron took that as a sign of approval, and wagged his rubber-clad tail as he padded out into the morning sun. He couldn’t feel the breeze, but he could hear it in the leaves and feel the warmth of the sun on his rubber. He’d almost never gone outside during his years at the waste plant.

“I guess you probably need a change,” Simon said as he came back out from the barn, having taken care of the horses.  The Suit nodded, and Aaron felt relief. The part of him that wasn’t entirely dissociated had been worried that Simon had forgotten – or simply hadn’t known – that Aaron would need that service.

“Yeah, all right.”  Simon didn’t sound thrilled about the prospect. He picked up a hose attached to the side of the barn.  “Hold still.” The Suit held perfectly still as Simon hosed him down, then wiped him off with a piece of sackcloth.  “Go into the farmhouse and take the first door in the hall.  It goes to the basement. I’ve got an area set up there for you.”

The Suit set off across the field toward the farmhouse. Aaron wondered vaguely if he had heard correctly – he had been distracted by the orgasm occurring as he was holding still as commanded, and he wasn’t sure.  Had Simon said he had an “area?” He didn’t understand what that might mean.  He climbed up the wooden steps onto the porch and went through the front door.  The cozily-furnished living room he found himself in reminded him of his own childhood home, though glassed over with pink. On a dresser sat a large photograph of Simon and Jeremy together, laughing at something off-camera. Aaron quickly turned away, searching for the basement door.

The Suit turned on the light at the bottom of the stairs and looked at the small, unfinished rec room that took up the center of the basement. There was a tile floor, a large, soft-looking round cushion, and an object on a small table.  Aaron stared at the object for a moment, struggling to remember… a television.  He padded over to the cushion, the rubber-clad bottoms of his paws squeaking on the tile floor, and laid down on it.  It was as soft as it looked.  He pulled his legs up onto it, drawing them up to his chest, his diaper bulging out under his tail.  Lying in that position caused a surge of pressure – barely conscious of it, the Suit bent a little and added to the warm mess in the seat of its diaper. A moment later, Aaron looked up as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“You worked all night, you must need sleep,” Simon said as he came into the basement and saw the Suit on the cushion. It shook its head no.  “You don’t?” It shook again. “Do you want sleep?” For the first time, the Suit paused for a moment after being asked a yes-or-no question.  More slowly, it nodded.

“All right, well let’s get you taken care of first.”  The deer clopped over to a closet and opened it up. Aaron could see a large bag of diapers, some wipes, and a box of rubber gloves.  Simon snapped a pair of gloves on. “Spread your legs.”

The Suit complied, laying back on the cushion and tucking its paws up against its chest.  Aaron felt a twinge of embarrassment in the back of his consciousness – it had always been another Suit performing his diaper changes back at the waste plant.  He took a deep breath of the gas and felt the embarrassment receding.

“Let’s see, the guide said… ah, here.” The deer lifted the Suit’s legs and ran his finger along a barely-visible seam along a rumpcheek.  The seam split apart, and he pulled the crotch of the Suit down, exposing the badly-drooping diaper and the bright orange fur of Aaron’s thighs.

“Damn… it really is you in there, Aaron.”  He pulled the tapes off and let the front of the diaper flop down.  “Euugh.”  The Suit’s diet of nutrient paste, fed automatically and periodically through the mouthpiece, was designed to make changes easier.  Still, a mess was a mess.  Simon was a farmer, though, and not squeamish.  He slid the diaper away, balled it up, and began cleaning the dissociated fox’s rump.  Under the mask, Aaron closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his mouthpiece as his former friend cleaned him up.  Some part of his consciousness knew that the only reason he was in this position was that he had killed that friend’s brother, but there was nothing he could do about it, and embarrassment served no purpose. This was his life now.

“Lift up.”  Aaron obeyed. As he did so, his cock, which had previously shown only a bit of pink above the sheath, pressed out and swelled with the pleasure of obedience.  Simon looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Uh.  Does this turn you on?” he asked as he slid the diaper under the fox’s rump.  The Suit nodded shamelessly.

“Hoo, boy. I think I’ma just blame that on whatever they did to your mind to get you like this.”  The Suit nodded again, and Simon pulled the thick diaper up between his legs, pulling the tapes out and affixing them snugly.  He pulled the Suit flap back to its original position, and the seam re-sealed automatically.  “There.  You get some rest.  Did good work last night.”  The Suit thumped its rubber tail on the cushion.

***

“Aaron, it would help if you spread your legs wider.” The Suit had been at the farm for a week now.  After that first scary day, Aaron had been able to spend most of that time in a rose-colored haze, barely aware of his surroundings aside from his assigned tasks.  He had taken care of almost all the physical labor on the farm in those seven days – sleep was a luxury, and he worked almost twenty hours per day, his consciousness dim except for the few hours Simon allowed him to rest in his room. Now, though, his brain’s autopilot called for help.  It wasn’t sure if the thing Simon had just said was a command or not. The Suit tilted its head.

“Aaron, spread your legs.”  The Suit immediately complied, spreading its legs.  The open wet diaper squished underneath its bottom, and its cock became stiff.  Simon smirked.  “All right.  I think I’m beginning to see how this works.”  He proceeded with the change, not taking too much care with the wipes since Aaron was only wet. When he got to the fox’s stiff cock, he paused, and began to wipe it.

Despite the gas’s firm grip on his body, Aaron couldn’t help himself.  It was the first physical stimulation he’d had there aside from his diaper in more than five years, and it penetrated even the thick fog his mind hid behind. He bucked his hips an inch or so, letting out a puff of breath into his mask.

“Dangit, hold still...”  Aaron immediately froze.  As he did, his cock only got stiffer.  Simon’s nose twitched.  “Even that does it?”  Nod. “Well, shit...” Simon breathed for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he took in the musky scent of the fox’s arousal.  “Ain’t like I got guys kickin’ down the door...”  He wrapped a warm paw around Aaron’s cock and gently stroked it up and down.

Aaron’s tense muscles trembled at the effort of holding still.  He did an admirable job, though, not moving his spread legs a centimeter, even as he began to cum, squirting hard, coating his belly and Simon’s paw.  “Shiiit...” Simon repeated as he used a wipe to clean himself and Simon.  He got the Suit into a fresh diaper and sealed it up again, then stood.  “You can relax,” he said to the Suit, which still had its legs spread on the cushion.  Simon headed upstairs and kicked the wall next to the door on the way out.  “Fuck!”

The outburst was enough to bring Aaron’s dim consciousness a little way back to reality.  He wasn’t entirely sure how that had just happened.  He knew Simon had stroked him off, and that had felt good. But he also knew that Simon was angry now, and he thought he must have missed something. He hoped he hadn’t done something wrong.

Simon came back down in an hour or so, holding a canister of the Suit’s compressed gas.  Aaron sat up as the deer clopped over to the mattress and attached the canister to the holster on the Suit’s back.  “That was wrong of me,” he said lowly.  The Suit flicked an ear.  “It’s not like you can consent.”  It tilted its head.

Simon looked into the Suit’s pink eyes and frowned. “I think… I think I’m gonna...”  He stood up.  “C’mon, follow me.”  

Simon let the Suit up into the sitting room.  “Lie down,” he said, pointing at the couch.  He picked up a pamphlet from the coffee table – a little brochure-sized user’s guide for Suits he’d occasionally referenced.  “Let’s see here...”  He waited for the Suit to get settled on the couch, then took its gray chin in his paw and gently lifted it. He put a paw at the base of the Suit’s throat. “It says… here.” He found the seam and split it.  Gently, he ran his paw around the Suit’s entire neck.  The hood hung loose, exposing a little bit of orange fur underneath.

“All right, Aaron.  Let’s see you.”

He started peeling the hood back, lifting it up and off.  The fox’s ears popped out first as the back of the hood came off.  Finally, Simon peeled the rubber off of Aaron’s muzzle, revealing his face.  The fox’s eyes were closed tight.  The mouthpiece was still attached to the front of his muzzle – Simon consulted the pamphlet and found the latch, unclipping it and pulling it from Aaron’s mouth.  He wrinkled his nose at the wisps of gas that came from Aaron’s nose for a few breaths.  The fox’s bright coat was clumped and matted with moisture, thick with shed fur that had nowhere to go.

Aaron slowly opened his eyes.  They were brownish, but set against his orange fur they looked bright green.  He looked in Simon’s direction, but his gaze was unfocused. His jaw hung limply open and drool ran down his chin, collecting on the chest of the Suit.  He looked mindless.  “You there, Aaron?”  The fox gave a slow nod, but his expression didn’t change. “Pamphlet says it takes an hour or so for the gas to wear off.  I guess you’re still feeling it.  I’m… I’m gonna go get started on dinner.”  He laid Aaron’s head back on the pillow.  As he stood up to walk into the kitchen, Aaron made a high, raspy, strangled sound.  Simon turned and stared, but the fox had the same vacant expression.  “What is it?”  The same sound came again.  Simon followed the fox’s gaze and realized that, with his head in that position, Aaron could only look at the photograph of Simon and Jeremy on the dresser.  He sighed and reached down, gently turning the fox’s head to look at the back of the couch.  “All right, call if you need anything.”

Simon came back into the room a while later, holding a plate of macaroni and cheese in one paw and a small, stiff brush in the other.  He set the plate on the table and looked down at Aaron.  The fox had moved a little, settling into a more comfortable position.  His eyes were open wide, staring at the ceiling.  They looked scared.  “Sit up for a second.”

Aaron didn’t.

Simon shrugged.  “All right, coming back to reality, I see. Come here.” He took Aaron’s shoulders and gently lifted him up.  He sat down on the end of the couch and let Aaron’s head back down so it rested in his lap.  “Make a noise if I do somethin’ you don’t like.  I’m just gonna brush you, though, you look like hell.” He held the brush to Aaron’s cheekfluff and began brushing it out.

As Simon groomed him, Aaron’s eyes slowly focused on the deer’s face. He laid there for a while, not resisting as his fur was brushed out.  “Simon?” His voice was raspy and very small, as if he had been sick for a long time.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Suh-sorry.” Aaron’s voice cracked hard on the first syllable.  Simon sighed and put the brush down.  He looked up at the picture on the dresser.  He was silent for a while.

“Sayin’ that might mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t mean so much to me. Keep my farm running.”  Aaron looked away, down at the floor next to the couch. After a moment, he nodded. “I will.” he lifted a weak paw and wiped his eye.

“Aaron, I got somethin’ I have to ask you. About what happened earlier.  It’s why I took your mask off.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um. Are you all right with what I did? Now that you don’t have the gas and everything.”

Aaron blinked. “Is that why you were mad?” He still slurred, but he was beginning to find his voice again. “Yeah, Simon. It was good.”

Simon looked relieved – tension flowed out of his shoulders.  “I’m real glad to hear that. And… it would be good again sometime?”
“Yeah.”

Simon was blushing through his tawny fur. “Good.  Um.  You want some macaroni?”

Aaron looked over at the plate on the table and shook his head. “I don’t think I could eat that.  I’d puke. Can… can I have my hood back?”

Simon turned his head, surprised.  “You want to go back in? I was gonna let you stay out for a while.”

“Please… this is really hard. I wanna go under.”

“All right...”  The deer lifted Aaron back into a sitting position, then stood up.  He picked up the loose hood and fished out the mouthpiece.  “Open,” he said, holding it to Aaron’s lips.

“Thanks, Simon.”  Aaron opened his mouth.  Simon slipped the mouthpiece inside and sealed it with the outer plastic.  Aaron closed his eyes as the deer pulled the gray hood back over his face. He tugged it snug, then ran a finger along the seal, re-doing it.  He turned the switch on the gas canister back to on, and Aaron took a deep breath.  His muscles relaxed under the Suit.

“Stand up.”  The Suit stood.  Simon sat where the Suit had been, picking up his plate of macaroni and putting it in his lap.  He patted the Suit’s bottom, making it crinkle. “There’s dishes to take care of in the kitchen.” The Suit turned and walked toward the door.  “Hey, Aaron.”  It stopped and turned to look at Simon.

“Sorry don’t mean a lot.  But it ain’t nothin’.” The Suit nodded.