The door opens again, soft footsteps padding closer. The nurse's voice low and gentle. "I brought some warm cloths... let's get him cleaned up and comfortable.”

Moxie adjusts Finn, cradling his torso against her, mindful of his battered body. His breath catches in soft whimpers, tears still slipping free. She holds him steady as the nurse gently wipes away the lubricant gel left behind. The warmth of the cloth touching him, soft and damp against his tender bottom makes him flinch. He presses his face into Moxie as if to hide from the rawness of being so exposed. His anus quivers against the touch, still stretched and weakly spasming. His body confused and trying to right itself after the long invasion.

He can still feel the cool, slick gel leaking out of him with every flutter of his anal muscles. His body intent on pushing the remnants free, desperate to restore itself. Each pulse leaving him aching, raw, and unbearably humiliated.

"Easy now," the nurse murmurs, respectful as ever. Her strokes gentle and unhurried. She wipes gently at his trembling ring, down across the curves of his aching flesh. She never lingers longer than needed. Each pass of the warm cloth feels like a blessing--erasing the evidence, giving him back some dignity piece by fragile piece.

Finn breathes against Moxie. Every stroke of the cloth making his bottom twitch anew, his rectum spasming faintly, as though his body cannot decide if it wants to hold on or let go. The ache spreading upward into his belly, a hollow soreness that makes him feel fragile and breakable. Moxie's hand cradles his jaw, her lips at his temple, whispering warmth into him. "You're doing so well. It's almost over." He trembles against her, swallowing hard, his throat still tight with shame.

From the corner of his eye Finn sees a padded shape unfold, the white bulk of a diaper--and his shame sears deeper. His chest seizes, breath catching in a small broken sound. Helplessness clawing at him. He is a grown man, and yet here he is... so weak, so dependent, his body leaking and spasming like it wasn't even his own anymore. He shakes in Moxie's arms, a strangled sob slipping out. Moxie only holds him tighter. "Shhh, this isn't about weakness, honey. It's about keeping you safe and letting you heal."

Her words like a balm against the burning humiliation in his chest as he clings to her. He wants to believe her. His aching body heavy and sore, his bottom still open, still leaking warmth he knows will only soil the sheets. He hates it, hates how vulnerable it makes him feel. But Moxie's arms around him are steady and unyielding in her love for him.

The nurse moves with care sliding the diaper beneath him, settling it gently without fuss. The soft padding cradles him, warm and strange. A reminder of both his vulnerability and the trust it takes for him to surrender to this. The nurse fastens the tapes snugly, smoothing the diaper over him with quiet dignity. He whimpers, fresh tears streaking down his cheeks. The nurse continues to move quietly around them, careful not to intrude. "I am just going to lower your legs now." Her hands gentle, guiding the straps away one by one. Finn's legs freed, and slowly she eases them down. The change in angle makes him cry out softly, a sharp sound muffled against Moxie. The weight of his thighs settling back together feels alien, like parts of him that don’t belong. His cheeks press sore flesh quivering against itself, and it feels wrong, strained. Like the whole of his bottom is still opening and closing around phantom shapes.

Moxie cradles his head against her and rubs slow circles at the nape of his neck. "It's okay. Just your body remembering. Nothing is happening."

He still trembles hard, every muscle tight. His hips ache fiercely, a throbbing weight in his bones, and his thighs still twitch helplessly from being splayed apart for so long. Even closing them halfway felt like too much, his body protesting every small shift.

"There you go," the nurse says softly. "All done here. No more straps." She respectfully steps back and exits the room.

Moxie kisses his temple again, easing him upright. "You ready to go home, love?"

Finn lets go of a shuddering breath, nodding weakly. Though he wasn't sure how he would make it. His legs feel hollow and boneless, his pelvis heavy with ache. Moxie carefully dresses him. Guiding his pants over each leg and gently tugging them into place over his diaper. Then she guides his arms through a soft t-shirt, then guides it slowly over his head. "There you go." She helps guide him down from the table after slipping his shoes onto his feet. Her arm stays curled securely around his waist. As his feet hit the ground he leans into her more fully, his weight collapsing against her.

"Easy," she whispers, steady as a stone. "Lean on me as much as you need. I'll carry the rest." He whimpers, each step feels monumental. The pressure through his pelvis radiates like a bruise too deep to name. The fresh diaper padded thick between his legs adding a strange bulk that made walking feel even more strange. His breath came ragged, and the muscles in his thighs shake violently, the aftereffects of being stretched and held open too long. He clutches at Moxie. She matches his pace perfectly--slow, unhurried, not one ounce of push in her movement. "That's it. One step at a time. I'm right here."