Oswald the Otter stars in…
“Having a Snack”
(1.1k words)


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        Oswald yawned, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his desk chair, a Google doc containing a half-written story open on his laptop screen. Slumping back down on his desk, he resumed his work, typing and erasing different versions of the same sentence over and over. After a few hours or so of writing, his silver eyes were beginning to glaze over, and he quickly realized that a break was in order.
        “Maybe something better will come to me after a snack,” the otter mumbled to himself, pushing his chair back and standing up. He began to make his way to the kitchen, only to find himself stumbling against the wall as the sagging of his well-used diaper was throwing off his balance. 
        “I guess this can’t wait, though,” he sighed, waddling his way over to the changing table pushed up against the wall next to his closet. After untaping his diaper so it fell to the floor with a satisfying splat, Oswald rolled it up, tossed it in the pail, and began wiping himself down. He had to check in the mirror to make sure he’d done a thorough cleaning job, as his slightly protruding belly made it difficult to tell just by looking down. Satisfied that he was clean as a whistle, he turned to the closet.
        “Now, what to choose,” he muttered, looking through the various diaper brands and designs piled high on the shelves. Giving it some thought, he decided on a thick white diaper patterned with bright orange goldfish, with a trail of bubble-shaped wetness indicators. Orange always contrasted well with his ocean blue fur (an ironic hue considering that he was, in fact, a river otter), and it didn’t take him long to get it secured nice and snug around his waist.
        Ever since he moved into his own home after graduating college, the otter never bothered getting dressed during the warm summer months unless he had guests. So clad in only his diaper, he made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. 
        “I should really eat something healthy,” he groaned, one hand on his chubby tummy as he used the other to open the freezer and start rummaging through some bags of frozen vegetables. “Maybe a little stir fry?” His stomach started rumbling, and he chuckled to himself. 
        “As if!” he laughed, pushing the veggies to the side and grabbing a gallon of vanilla ice cream and plopping it down on the kitchen island. Next, the otter opened the fridge and bent down to pick up the chocolate syrup from the bottom shelf, farting loudly as he did so. The whipped cream was on the next shelf up, and with all of the necessary ingredients, Oswald was ready for a snack.
        As always, he attempted to start small, scooping some ice cream into a bowl, adding a bit of whipped cream and chocolate, and slowly eating with a spoon. And as always, he quickly lost patience, only halfway through the bowl before he tossed the spoon aside. He lifted the bowl up to his face and started gobbling up ice cream, not caring in the slightest that plenty of the frozen treat was dribbling down his chin and into his pale blue chest fur.
        Pushing the bowl aside as well, the otter then climbed up onto the counter, shoving his face into the ice cream, using his hands to help shovel the stuff into his mouth when they weren’t too busy drizzling on more chocolate syrup.
        He was about halfway through the gallon when he felt a familiar pressure in his bladder, and flopped over onto his back. With one hand, he brought the canister of whipped cream up to his mouth, while with the other, he groped the front of his diaper. The little blue bubbles on the front of Oswald’s diaper quickly faded away as he pissed himself, the soft hissing noise coming from his crotch nearly covered up entirely by the sound of copious amounts of whipped cream being discharged into his mouth. 
        Rolling over onto his side as he reached for the ice cream again, Oswald noticed something on the other counter that he had completely forgotten.
        “How the hell did I forget about an entire cake?” he yelped happily, hopping off of the island and making his way over to the counter. The cake was vanilla, with a thick layer of chocolate icing, which he immediately leaned over and took a nice lick of. His right hand shot out and grabbed the first handful of cake to shove in his mouth, but despite how tasty it was, he found himself looking back over at the ice cream. The cake stand was heavy, as was the ice cream, particularly now that his sloppy eating had added a noticeable amount of weight as he walked. 
        After a moment of contemplation, Oswald snapped his fingers. He used one hand to pull back the rear waistband of his diaper, and used the other to start shoveling cake into the back of his padding. Once it was full to his liking, he waddled back over to the island, clambered up, and lay on his side next to the ice cream.
        It didn’t take the chubby otter long to fall into a comfortable rhythm, alternating between handfuls of melting ice cream from the gallon and fistfuls of cake fished out of the back of his diaper. His stomach was bulging, one arm was coated in melted ice cream, the other frosting and cake crumbs. He continued like that until the ice cream was gone, and the cake was nearly through as well, using his now-free hand to massage the soggy front of his diaper.
        At that moment, the doorbell rang. Oswald sighed, hopping down off of the island a lot slower than before as he started to waddle over to the door. He pulled it open, leaning against the doorframe as he pulled another handful of cake out of his diaper in front of a bewildered looking pizza delivery fox. 
        “I have your…sorry…I have your pizza,” the fox stammered, not quite sure what to make of the situation. He had seen many things during his short career as a delivery driver, but a diapered otter, nearly as tall as himself, with white and brown stains covering his body, was definitely odd enough to stand out. In response, the otter shoved the cake into his mouth.
        His stomach rumbled once more, and he squatted down, raised his tail, and let out a loud fart before standing back up and looking the fox in the eye.
        “Took you guys long enough! I’m starving here!”