Aaron shook uncontrollably as the guards pushed him toward the Suit, hanging empty from the upright support with its arms outstretched. Their paws were soft but inexorable in their pressure on his shoulders and lower back. He struggled to remember the words of the corrections counselor he’d spoken to three days before.

“It will be natural for you to be scared. Your sentence is the closest we have to capital punishment these days. In fact, you should be scared – that’s part of the point. But we aren’t in the Second Middle Ages anymore. The subjective experience – the brain functions that make you feel like yourself – will continue. You will still feel like a living individual. Your spark will not be extinguished.”

“Just… buried?”

“Yes. Very deeply.  You understand why it has to be that way.”

The eighteen-year-old Fox looked down at his folded paws, remembering the stains on them.

“Yeah.”

It had been an easier thing to accept three days ago in his cell than here, staring into the glassy rose-colored eyes of the Suit, imagining its thin, light gray rubber all over his body, pressing down his fur and obscuring even his species from onlookers.  It looked like every other Suit – he had seen hundreds.  Maybe thousands.  All identical aside from height differences, working away on construction sites and road crews, obeying every order immediately and involuntarily.  Every one of them had an obvious, thick diaper bulging from under the rubber. That item already rustled between Aaron’s legs, reminding him of just how much control he was about to lose over his own body.

How could every one of those Suits have had a real person in it, a spark of life? They couldn’t have all acted so quickly and harmoniously if that were true. Aaron suddenly didn’t believe it – that was a lie the counselors told people to secure cooperation. Society had never really abolished the death penalty; they’d just kept the bodies going as mindless zombies.  Todd began to shake and dig in his heels.  “No...”

The guards continued to push him, easily overpowering his feeble resistance. Behind them, Aaron heard the footsteps of the Reconciler, a haughty raccoon in a black robe. The closer they came to the Suit, the more Aaron realized he had been wrong – this Suit didn’t look like every other one he’d seen.  This one was loose and floppy. Waiting to be filled.

“Please...”  The guards ignored his quiet begging, turning him around and placing each of his shaking paws into the Suit. The sleeves were securely attached to the upright backboard, preventing him from moving.  He didn’t struggle – his mind couldn’t summon enough hope to struggle. He felt the thin rubber press his fur down and turned to look at his arm.  His brilliant orange fur came to an abrupt end where the rubber overlapped it, obscuring it with calm, neutral gray.  Tears began to run down the Fox’s face.

“Please lift your leg, Aaron.”

“I don’t wanna die,” Aaron hitched, taking short ragged breaths between each word.

“Lift your leg.”

Aaron lifted his leg. The guard slipped the boot over his naked paw, pulling the Suit up.  Then the other leg.  Aaron looked down at his body – between the Suit and the institutional white diaper, the only fur visible now was on his chest and upper thighs, before they disappeared down into the Suit legs. That brilliant color began to disappear as the guard ran his finger up the seal in the middle, fusing the Suit together. A few moments later, Aaron’s body was all gray, arms and legs spread by the restraints.  He dropped his head, sobbing.

One of the guards put a paw on his chin and gently lifted it, reaching behind him and pulling the loose hood up.  “Oh no!” Aaron realized what was about to happen.  For the first time, almost involuntarily, he began to struggle.  It was too late – his wrists and ankles were held firm against the Suit backboard. “Oh God, I’m sorry!” The hood came down over his face, covering his muzzle. The world outside went rose-colored.

Aaron heard a click, and a soft plastic mouthpiece began to press inward against his lips.  “Open,” a quiet electronic voice said in his ear. The Fox tried to clamp his muzzle shut, but the mouthpiece only pressed harder in response.  He gave in after a few seconds, allowing it into his mouth.  It filled the front of his muzzle, forcing his teeth open, and a piece of plastic outside his muzzle clamped down on the other side of his lips, sealing them shut with the mouthpiece inside.  Aaron tried to pant through his nose, but that did no good with the thin rubber covering his nostrils.  He was forced to breathe through the mouthpiece, and to accept whatever came through it.

Everyone knew there was a gas involved in what the Suits did.  Aaron remembered that if he looked closely on a dim day, he could see mists swirling behind the rose glass eyes of a Suit. The exact composition and effects of the gas, however, were a tightly-held state secret. God, Aaron thought, Please just don’t let it smell bad.

“Aaron Thistlebend,” the Reconciler pronounced. Aaron almost expected the voice to be muffled and mute behind the rubber, but it flowed crisply from the speaker in the hood, directly into his ear. That relieved him just a tiny bit – he would not be completely isolated. “For your crime, you have been deemed unfit to continue in normal society. The remainder of your life will be dedicated to atonement and restitution. May those you have pained forgive you.”

“Breathe deep,” the guard next to him said lowly. “It goes better that way, trust me.”  Aaron didn’t have much choice. He was hyperventilating on the backboard, shivering uncontrollably. He felt his bladder release into his diaper and wondered if the process had begun. The acrid scent of fear-piss, safely contained in the rubber Suit, told him he had simply wet himself, though.

Then, the gas came. He felt pressure coming through the mouthpiece, forcing itself unstoppably down his trachea and into his lungs. It did have a strange smell, musky and earthy… but not unpleasant. Aaron closed his eyes.

Slowly, his involuntary shaking stopped. His arms and legs began to feel heavy, and he realized he couldn’t move them. His muscles completely relaxed, and he slouched forward, held up only by his restraints.

His mind began to go cloudy, but also strangely focused on something he was starting to feel. It was a familiar sensation, but it was so unexpected that Aaron took a few moments to recognize it. Arousal! Intense sexual arousal was almost the only thing he could feel, his hands and feet going distant and numb. He could feel his cock, though, and the pressure of the wet diaper padding against his growing erection. That earthy, musky smell filled his sinuses and flattened his thoughts, turning everything he felt – even his intense fear – toward lust. From the outside, though, his pleasure was completely invisible. The thick diaper disguised it, as it did for every Suit.

Aaron moaned, but only in his mind. His vocal chords didn’t respond at all to his brain’s attempts to control them. He didn’t really care. If he could have moved, he would have been grinding his erection into his diaper, humping at empty air. As it was, all he could do was savor the pleasure as his mind’s focus began to reduce, going fuzzy around the edges.

Even without any physical stimulation aside from the pressure of the warm padding, Aaron began to ejaculate. The scent of his own cum filled his nose under the rubber, held entirely within the Suit. The orgasm went on and on, for at least thirty seconds before it began to trail off.  Aaron’s attention remained narrow and fuzzy, and getting fuzzier as he inhaled more of the gas, but he found he could think about more than just his crotch now – barely.  Warm afterglow throbbed through his mind and what little he could feel of his body.

“Suit, stand up,” the Reconciler’s voice rang in his ear.  It felt more like the words were appearing directly into his mind though.  Aaron vaguely felt his legs stiffen, supporting his weight, but the action had nothing to do with him. The guards reached up and undid the restraints, freeing his arms and ankles.  “Suit, step down.”  Aaron did so, again with no volitional control.  Actually, he realized after a moment, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a very small part of him listening to the voice and enacting its commands. But it required no attention or effort – like breathing while concentrating on something else.  What’s more, it felt GOOD to obey the order. As soon as his rubber-clad feet touched the floor as commanded, he felt a surge of pleasure. If he hadn’t just squirted into his diaper, he was sure he would have become erect again.

“Alan, let’s get this one assigned to waste management center 12-B, they’ve been short-staffed a while,” the Reconciler said, looking back and gesturing for Aaron to follow.  The gesture alone was enough for Aaron to understand, and to make every step following after them blissful pleasure.  From the outside, the gray rubber and thick diaper completely disguised his joy.