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Best Medicine

By Zrathie

Jack's bloated urgent bladder awoke the coyote. He opened his eyes. He was still in the underground private hospital room. Underground as beneath the earth, not an underground hospital involved in the illicit organ trade. He lay more or less spread eagle in a medical bed. All four limbs were clad in plaster casts. He didn't have any broken bones; they were used as bondage.

He was in a private room. It was large enough for the coyote his bed, rolling side table and set of shelves. There was even a private bathroom that he had yet to see the inside of. Otherwise, the room was immaculately clean. The blue sheet vinyl floor was polished to a slick high gloss. As was the faux window, it was a casing for a light hidden behind panes of frosted glass made to look like it opened to the outside.

He couldn't bend his elbows or knees, making his limbs useless. His full bladder was throbbing, full of a night's worth of piss. The automated systems of the malfunctioning hospital had kept him hydrated, perhaps overly so. He was free to let go because he was padded in a thick medical-style adult diaper, but he didn't want to use it. He had been forced to but didn't want to give in to willing use them--a stubborn act of rebellion.

However, his most pressing problem was his bowels; he needed to take a dump. It had been two days since he had been captured by the robot coyote nurses exploring this place that was meant to be abandoned. The natural build-up of faeces and the high-fibre diet they fed him had filled his lower intestines with soft, healthy hard-to-hold mass. It seemed his diet was designed around forced diaper use without medication.

Jack could hear the mechanical thuds coming down the hallway. A bipedal robot coyote nurse entered the room. It stood at an average height and was covered in a skin of bright glossy white rubbery material. It had a lanky androgynous body type, thin arms and legs, and a narrow torso. It had a tail, five fingers on its hand paws and four toes on its toe paws. It didn't wear any clothes or a uniform but didn't have genitals. Instead, the machine's crotch was amorphous and smooth, like a mannequin or doll, with nothing between its thighs. Jack assumed they smelled of bleach from their cleaning process, not overly so, just a tang left over.

The nurse bot's head turned to look at Jack. With solid green eyes, he could only guess where it was looking. The head shape was coyote-like; Jack was sure of that. They were capable of crude displays of pre-programmed emotion and basic cycled expressions. Their ears, eyelids and muzzle would conform to an uncanny simulacrum of an emotion. The robot leaned over and began to feel Jack's exposed belly.

The prodding was quite painful, not because the machine was being rough but due to the state of fullness. Jack began to pant, feeling the need to shit becoming quite bad, like nothing he had experienced before. Jack kept his hold clenched tightly shut as he strained to keep continent. He was sure if he had one more meal, he would be shitting his diapers. A big cramp rolled up his spine, and it was getting harder and harder to resist the urge.

"Patient 475896, I've detected that you need to defecate. You are authorised to use your sanitation garments anytime,"

"Fuck you, take me to the toilet over there," said Jack.

Jack flicked his head and pointed his snout towards the ensuite's door.

"Sexual gratification is not part of your current treatment plan, and toilet use is denied while your casts are on," said the robot.

Jack was done with any further conversation because speaking to them was a cross between speaking with a speak-and-spell and a broken automated call centre.

"I will check back with you in an hour. If you have not moved your bowels by then, I will dose you with laxative," said the coyote bot.

The machine turned and left the room. Jack ignored it, staring upwards at the ceiling like it was the most exciting thing in the room. This was new; he had never been threatened with forced laxative use. Was his resistance getting to the machines?

Sometime later, Jack's ears shifted. He turned them to the door like a radar dish tracking a signal. He swore he had heard something.

"Jack!" came a voice.

The coyote flicked his ears, straining to listen. Had he just heard his name?

"Jack!"

This was real! It must be someone, a living creature, because the machines never used his name.

"Help! I'm over here!" yelled the coyote.

The coyote could hear clicks of hooves on the floor coming down the corridor; they grew close, so he yelled again. A figure walked through the open the door to his room. It was the whitetail deer, his friend Brian. The relief was short-lived when he saw the buck. Brian was de-racked and wearing a white rubber outfit. It covered his torso. His arms were under a bulge at his chest as if he was wearing a straitjacket; only it was a single lump he couldn't make out the sleeves. There was another bulge at his crotch, hiding his genitals. His legs were free so was his nub tail. Jack could see the panic in the deer's eyes.

"Shit, I hoped you could help me take this off," he said.

"I'm glad to see you, Brian, but we're both fucked if we can't work our way out of this," said Jack.

"Are you hurt? They didn't smash up your limbs, did they?"

"No, they just put me in these casts and fucken diapers,"

The buck leaned down near his muzzle. Brian raised his neck upwards. Jack was a red button that looked like a seatbelt release button sunken into the neckline of the rubber gear.

"Do you see the button?" said Brian.

"Yeah."

"Pressing it takes this thing out of bondage mode. I can't press it myself, so I need the use of one of your claws,"

Brian stood up and used one of his legs and foot roof to position Jack's right arm so that his exposed fingers were over the edge of the medical bed.

"Want are you doing? I can wiggle my fingers but not much else," said Jack.

Brian kneeled next to the bed and pushed his body close. The coyote had cottoned on to what he was asked to do, and he felt for the button. There was a click, and Brian's rubber outfit began to ripple and move. The rubber seemingly drained back into itself, and the deer's arms could soon be seen. There was a pop as the buck moved his now free limbs away from his body. He stretched and flexed his arms and then his three-finger hoof hands.

He was still dressed in the bondage gear, but now it looked like a rubber leotard with integrated gloves. His hoof hands were encased in skintight white rubber, but he could move his limbs and fingers now.

"Now fuck, how am I going to move you?" said Brian.

"I have bigger problems. These bots have been forcing me to use my diapers. I really need to both piss and shit," said Jack.

Realisation flashed across the deer's muzzle.

"Err." said the deer.

"Please, I can't hold it much longer. T-there might be a container or something in the bathroom,"

The buck walked across into the room's private bathroom. Jack could hear the cupboard doors opening and closing. He soon came out holding a pee jug and a bedpan. Jack could tell he wasn't happy about the situation, but the buck was trying to help.

"I'll help you with your bladder first," the buck said.

Jack tried not to panic as Brian felt around his waist. That was until he felt a trickle of piss moisten the tip of his sheath.

"What's wrong?" asked Jack.

"Your diaper is inside transparent plastic pants. I can't work out how to take them off."

"Just rip them off. I'm about to piss myself!"

Brian tugged sharply at his hip, trying to wrench the plastic pants down. Jack yowled in pain as the plastic tugged at his fur. The buck stopped, but it was too late for Jack's bladder. He gulped as he began pissing his diaper. The potent piss stream hissed; such was the force behind it. There was another sound, a squeak. I came from Brian's rubber-encased hoofed hands squeaking as he gripped and wrung them. He backed away from Jack's bedside, opening and closing his legs before looking away from the still-pissing coyote.

Jack's diapers were effective as they quickly began soaking up his piss. The coyote felt he couldn't overwhelm them despite only using them when his full bladder became too desperate. His piss hissed loudly as it rocketed out of his sheath into the padding.

Jack looked up as he saw movement from the edge of his vision. Brian had shuffled away. The poor deer must have been grossed out.

***

"Not now!" thought Brian.

Brian could feel his autonomous rubber outfit responding to his erection. While the rubber clothes' amorous machinations were hidden from Jack's view under the blunt spherical bulge, he didn't want the coyote to know he was being wanked off in front of him because he might ask what had got him riled up in the first place.

"I'll find a wheelchair or something," he said.

"Don't take too long a machine said it's coming back to check on me," said Jack.

Brian walked to the doorway only to look back at the coyote and his worried expression. He quickly left the room. Now that he was out of the coyote's sight, both hand hooves dove down to his crotch. It was useless to aid in the stimulation, but it was instinctual. He squeezed and pressed, even crossing his legs, hoping for an ounce of blunt pressure. As with all the other times, his genitals were held chaste against external sensations.

He regained composure after his useless clutching session. The outfit slowly stroked his length. It was too slow, at least at the start of its process, a full teasing rub of his cock base to tip. Indeed, the squishy folds of lubed rubber clutched and squeezed, rubbing upwards, undulating and repeating in an even cadence.

Brian moved to where he had spotted a supply closet on his way to Jack's room. He went inside and closed the door. The deer clicked on the light and saw a wheelchair. He sat down in it and relaxed.

"Sorry, Brian, but I need to get off," he thought.

When he entered the room, he knew the coyote was desperate for the toilet. Jack's exposed paw pads from his leg casts were sweaty, the coyote's abdomen twitched, and his bladder bulged. Nevertheless, Brian was in control of his cock no matter how the sight of the desperate and needy coyote pushed his buttons.

That was until Jack stated his needs empirically. Brian's cock surged out into the tight rubber folds of the milking sleeve that had already begun to self-lubricate. He didn't know what had come over him in the small ensuite. He opened and closed the single cupboard. He saw what he needed inside but chose to stall for time, and he could have taken off Jack's plastic pants but chose to delay again. Sure, he had made a deal, but it didn't mean he would force the diaper issue.

Remembering the coyote's wetting made Brian clutch down at his bulge again, squeezing uselessly at it. He was on this device's timetable. The milker sleeve had increased its pace but was still too slow for the buck's liking.

"What is the progress of your mission?"

Brian's eyes jerked open. He was so engrossed in his sexual daydream that he failed to notice he had company. A nurse bot was standing before him. He didn't know if it was "his" nurse because they all looked identical. Finally, he calmed himself; if the nurse bot wanted to grab him, it would have simply reactivated his bondage.

"I-I got him to wet himself," stammered Brian.

"That is irrelevant to the deal. You are to facilitate a bowel movement," said the nurse bot.

It was a strange request, but the coyote nurse bots promised to stop his daily laxative torment if he complied.

"I know, but this thing got me distracted," he said.

"Your uniform masturbates you only if it detects an erection. A healthy buck in your age range should masturbate daily; anything less isn't healthy. An orgasm is good for your mental and sexual health,"

"Bu-"

Brian couldn't get out the rest of what he had to say as the milking sleeve ramped up quickly.

"Over the last twenty-four hours, you have climaxed seven times. You must be a very sexually repressed forest creature,"

It wasn't that he was repressed, but the coyote bots were slamming his kink buttons hard. Bondage, latex, total toilet control and seeing his friend wet himself drove him wild with lust.

Brian gulped and moaned. The hidden milker was now randomising its strokes, repeating or changing directions and alternating how strongly it gripped his penis, swapping from a loose grip to a stronger one for a random number of strokes. Sometimes two more vigorous strokes and three weaker ones, the direction and strength constantly changing.

Brian gripped the armrests of the wheelchair as he could feel an orgasm bubbling up. Part of him hoped the machine would leave before he came. He didn't want to show how easily he was being controlled, his cock acting like a joystick for the coyote bots and their tech to toy with. Thankfully the robot turned to leave the storeroom. The buck held out until the door closed. He humped the air thrusting his hips as he allowed himself to cum. Ropes of jizz shot into the crotch of his outfit and absorbed almost instantly.

***

Jack could hear wheels and hooves clicking down the corridor. Brian pushed in a wheelchair and parked it next to Jack's bed. It took some effort to roll Jack into a sitting position on the side of the bed. The coyote couldn't help the buck, only moving his back to provide momentum. Finally, Brian lifted the coyote and plopped him into the wheelchair; his leg casts clattered on the floor, and his arm casts knocked the armrests of the wheelchair.

The coyote clenched down on his bloated bowels; he was more concerned about keeping his shit inside and not shitting himself right there. Brian adjusted the leg plates of the wheelchair, making sure the coyote's lower limbs wouldn't drag across the floor. Jack was glad the buck didn't need urging to get going. They left the room and were out in the corridor. It took only a short time for Jack to recognise the place where he had the casts applied.

"To the left, they put these on in there; they must have something to take them off, too," said Jack.

Brian turned them towards the medical office. Jack's tail wagged, showing his excitement to be free. Jack was wheeled into the office. There was a variety of equipment related to applying plaster casts. The coyote watched as Brian opened a few cupboards; he found a set of plaster saws.

The deer took the one with a disk already attached. Brian fumbled with the power cord before plugging it into a wall-mounted outlet near a treatment bed. Sitting in the wheelchair was putting more strain on his bloated bowels. He needed out soon.

"Oh, please hurry. I'm going to shit myself if you don't," pleaded Jack.

Brian moved the wheelchair close to the bed and struggled to lift the coyote onto the bed. Jack was in pain, not from anything Brian was doing but from desperately needing number two. With one last shove, Jack was on the bed.

"If you need to go, just go. It'll take a sec to get these off," said Brian.

The deer was right. He would shit himself in the next few minutes because his insides were acting up this badly. The deer turned on the plaster saw and approached Jack's right leg. As Brian began cutting through the first cast, Jack's bowels had had enough, and he could feel a log of filth squeeze past his anal sphincter. It was horrid, but he was beyond the point he could stop it. He stared at the ceiling as he gave up holding and pushed out the long-held mess. Brian continued to move the plaster saw down the first cast. Soon he had cut enough plaster away to free the first of Jack's limbs.

The coyote continued to shit. It was too late for half measures. Brian removed the first cast, and Jack flexed his leg. It was a bit stiff, but movement would fix it. The deer was working on the other leg cast. The plaster saw worked through the cast like butter. Soon the left leg was free. He was happy the deer was seemingly ignoring he had just soiled himself. Jack groaned as he flexed his left leg, feeling his freedom returning.

Brian moved to his right arm, and Jack sighed. He felt much better despite the filth balled up in his diaper. His insides no longer ached. The deer jumped suddenly. The coyote looked up at Brian.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"This fucken thing has my bowel movements set like clockwork. This suit just gave me my daily shot of DeerLax laxative. I have not had a solid shit since I've been trapped here," said Brian.

"How does that work? You have a diaper under there?" asked Jack.

"It jabs me with the stuff, and twenty minutes later, I crap myself. I don't know what it does with it, the shit, I mean. I don't feel shit draining into the seat of my pants, and it hasn't been drained... out,"

"That sounds a bit better than what I have just gone through. When I'm out of these casts, I have to find a place to wash up and get something to cover myself,"

Brian went back to work on the coyote's arm cast.

***

The deer sawed through Jack's arm cast. He had just missed his deadline for avoiding another forced pants-shitting. His left ass cheek still stung from the shot; at least the rubber machine swapped sides; it had been his right cheek getting jabbed yesterday. Jack's right arm was now free. He pulled the cast away, and it fell to the floor as Jack flexed and stretched his arm. The deer worked quickly on the last cast on Jack's left arm.

Jack helped Brian with the last of the cast with his now freed hand paw, and arm. The coyote pulled himself off the bed; Brian watched as the coyote's diaper drooped lower, sagging under the weight of its payload. Jack moved past him as he proceeded to a door on the other side of the room. The sign labelled the room as a shower.

Brian was about to say we didn't have time for this but thought better. Jack didn't have a self-cleaning latex leotard as he had. The deer began considering how they had gotten off lightly with his treatment. He soon heard the sound of water as the coyote showered. Brian moved to the door to the corridor and peered out a small glass viewing port installed in the door.

The corridor was empty save for one of the mop Roomba-type cleaning robots working in patterns across the floor. Brian could feel the overpowered laxative begin to work. The nurse bot had called it DeerLax laxative. Deer were subtle or delicate creatures, but this medication was bowel-shattering. The water was now off in the shower room, and Brian could hear his bowel begin to gurgle, and a feeling of queasiness overcame his belly.

He was about to crouch and get it over with when the shower room door burst open. Jack stood nude. His white belly fur was drenched, as was his rust-coloured shoulder fur and grey flanks. Brian couldn't help but let his eyes waft past Jack's fuzzy ballsack and plump sheath. He was easy on the eye. A sharp pain in his lower intestines interrupted the buck's perv session.

"Let's go," said Jack.

The coyote shook himself; water mist left his fur and sprayed everywhere. He crossed the room leaving wet paw prints behind him. Brian forced himself to clench as they moved back out in the corridor. Brian wasn't in the mood to argue that Jack should find a towel or sheet to cover himself. His now painful insides were what were the most on his mind.

Jack had found the lift leading up to the surface and was jabbing the call button. The deer wanted to find a discreet place to shit, but the lift dinged, and the doors opened. Brian shuffled inside, and he dubbed over as he entered the lift.

"If you need to go, just go," teased Jack.

The coyote flashed him a toothy grin. Brian was only holding out because he was with Jack. He crouched down and began to empty his bowels in explosive surges. The outfit collected his shit. It was all contained, with no smell or even the sensation of it hitting his body. Despite this, there was nothing dignified or modest about this, and Jack stepped away to the walls of the lift.

"Fuck!" said Jack.

"Yeah," said Brian.

That was all the buck could muster as his insides convulsed even after emptying his bowels. It took a few moments before the deer composed himself.

"So, magicked away like that those wizards before they invented plumbing?" said Jack.

"I think it's what powers this thing. Err... like reclaimed landfill gas or something. I haven't seen it put on charge since they placed me inside it," said Brian.

***

The elevator doors opened, and both creatures stepped out. The corridor looked like a subway access tunnel. Mostly dark with piping and cables hanging over the ceilings. The pair walked down the hall. Finally, they came to a large door. It was metal and looked heavy, with chunky hinges holding it up. Suddenly the door opened on its own. It creaked open slowly. They walked inside the room. It was a changing room with lockers, showers and benches.

A red fox was standing inside at a lectern. The fox was dressed in a white lab coat and grey trousers. He was flanked by two of the coyote bots. He greeted them both with a warm smile.

"Congratulations, you've beaten the escape room," said the fox.

"That was a wild scene. I was totally in headspace while I was down there," said Jack.

"Is this where we change? I didn't want to break the immersion by asking the bots," Brian said.

The fox walked out from behind the lectern. His tail was encased in tight black rubber. He wasn't as vanilla as Jack first suspected. The fox turned to face Brian.

"About that. You know that medical waiver you signed before entering the escape room?" said the fox.

Brian nodded.

"Yeah," replied the buck.

"It stated that we must monitor your health and report any medical or phycological conditions we diagnose you with while under our care, even during recreational sexual treatment."

Jack could see Brain appeared much more nervous than he had just been. The buck shifted his body weight from one hoof to another.

"The coyote bots have diagnosed you with acute sexual repression," said the fox.

Brian backed away.

"That was just part of the roleplay, right," he said.

"The Forest Creature Pycho-sexual Rehabilitation Act states: if a male deer, moose, or caribou ejaculates more than eight times within a twenty-four-hour period, they must be detained for mandatory treatment. We could ignore it if it were seven, but that last one brought you over the limit," said the fox.

Brian ran for the exit door across the other side of the room, but the coyote bots grabbed him before he was even halfway there. Brian struggled in their grip, but his living-latex outfit pulled his arms close. They were soon wrapped in a tight self-hug, and then sludgy latex berried them in a formless bulge. It didn't take much until he was bound, just like Jack had found him.

"It was this suit! It forced me; it made me cum!" yelled Brian.

"It's going to be okay, Brian. Your bio-suit only responded to your sexual arousal."

The coyote bots picked the buck up and began to carry him back inside. The deer wiggled but couldn't break the hold of the much stronger machines.

"It's not fair. I-I not repressed!" yelled Brian as he was dragged off.

The steel door began to close, cutting off his begging and babbling.

The coyote turned to look at the fox.

"Is Brian going to be okay?" asked Jack.

"He's been repressing a high-level omorashi fetish. We discovered it by accident on the first night. The nurse bot selected an omorashi scene from their list of scenarios. When he was forced to pee his bio-suit unitard, there was an unmistakable sexual response. I know it from my own experiences," said the fox.

The fox opened his lab coat to reveal he wore a black bio-suit under his work clothes, a full-body model.

"Why would he worry about that? He knows my interests," said Jack.

"That's the difference; you accept yours, and I accept mine," said the fox.

"How are you going to heal him?" asked Jack.

"Treatment is pretty easy; exposure therapy is best. We'll keep Brian on a high-fluid diet, with an occasional dose of diuretics and total toilet denial," said the fox.

The fox's eyes narrowed as he looked Jack up and down. The coyote placed a paw in the front crotch even though it was too late. The other male had spotted his lipstick.

"That'll keep Brian well hydrated. Then comes the bladder stress positions, tickle torture, and rainshower ambience piped into his room, to name a few methods," said the fox.

Jack had firmed up even more at the fox's descriptions.

"We'll also put him in omorashi situations with other guests with his kink. He responded well to witnessing a forced diaper wetting. That and automated milking every time he pops a boner. I hope that has answered your question,

"Thanks, err, I never got your name."

"It's Jamie," said the fox.