HoratioHusky

Chapter Three Blue’s Clues Hunter stared at the page of figures in front of him, one of many in the two inch thick textbook laid open at the study table. The fennec had been attempting to read the same paragraph for the past several minutes, but for some reason was unable to process the meaning of the words. At least, he consoled himself, he was actually trying. To his left, Jack was smirking at the screen of his laptop as he browsed through YouTube, the sound of the videos just barely audible in the earbuds lodged in his ears over the noise of the buzzing overhead light. Malissa was on her phone, the text document on her own laptop untended as she browsed through whatever media app she had opened. Hard at work, or hardly working? This mantra repeated itself a few times in Hunter’s head, further stymying his attempts at regaining concentration. Their exam was in two days, and only Hunter appeared worried about it. Malissa had already expressed her desire to get a B in the class and nothing more, while Jack, Hunter was sure, was banking on his elevated homework score to keep him adrift. An elevated homework score, that was the result of copious copying of Hunter’s own work. The fennec was sure that the professor was well aware of this not-so-ethical exchange, but did not care enough to address it. After all, cheating on the exams was by near impossible and was the proper demonstration of who really grasped the content. But that was not what was keeping Hunter’s mind off task. The previous evening, during his own meanderings on internet video entertainment, he had stumbled upon a review of children’s shows that struck his interest. Most notably, his favorite show as a child had been Blue’s Clues, and seeing the friendly face of the blue canine had tickled something in his brain that caused him to click on the video. One video was all that it took, and before he knew it he had spent several hours watching clips and even a few full episodes of the show and feeling downright giddy. Although he was not aware of it until he had finally decided to go to bed, his eyelids drooping telling him that it was very much time to call it, he had been completely worry free in those hours. No thoughts of assignments, classes, social obligations, club meetings, nothing. The sense of freedom and elation that came with such a leaving of his own life had been blissful, and had caused him to feel a little strange. He had not been able to fully parse what that experience had been, although it certainly helped him sleep better without having intrusive thoughts to badger him before his dreams. Even though, as he stared at the textbook page with his friends around him apparently unstressed by the looming exam date he found his thoughts returning to the plots of the cartoon episodes from the previous evening. “Hmmm hmmm… Hmmm hmm… Hmmm hmm…” “Found a blue paw print now, did we?” “Huh?” Hunter looked up, his eyes wide and innocent as he looked from Jack to Malissa. It was Jack that had spoken, his tone wry and lips curled in amusement as he stared quizzically at Hunter. A slew of emotions ran through the fennec fox’s brain, first and foremost embarrassment. “Uhh…” He responded intelligently, scrambling for an explanation before realizing that saying the truth would probably be easiest. After all… He told himself. I’m certainly not the only college student who watches cartoons for nostalgic purposes… “I might have stayed up last night watching Blues Clues on Youtube…” He admitted sheepishly, glancing from Malissa to Jack with a growing smile on his muzzle. “Hey, I used to watch that as a kid too.” Malissa responded, her eyes sparkling even as her whiskers twitched. Jack’s response was less enthusiastic. “I’m hangin’ out with a bunch of babies.” In perfect synchrony, Hunter and Malissa rounded on Jack indignantly and both began to speak at the same time. “Really? You’ve never revisited a kid’s show you used to watch as a kid?” “How can you disrespect Blue like that man?” The weasel held up his paws in defeat, smiling nervously as he saw the ferocity with which both of his friends were speaking to him. “Whoa, whoa guys take it easy. I’m just kidding, I watched my fair share of Blues Clues back in the day. I guess I’d just find it kind of boring now is all.” Malissa turned to Hunter, reaching her paw over to place it on top of his own as she spoke in a condescending tone. “I don’t think Jack found any of Blue’s Clues when he was a pup, Hunter.” It was the weasel’s turn to be indignant, much to the shared amusement of Malissa and Hunter as he responded. “Oh come on, they were bright blue and obvious.” “Which makes it only more embarrassing for you for not being able to spot them.” Malissa replied dryly, clearly enjoying the edge Hunter and she had over Jack in this situation Hunter held back his own reply, contenting himself to stand by as witness to Jack and Malissa’s friendly bantering. As he pretended to resume reading through the text in front of him, his mind wandered back his feelings the previous evening. He had not quite remembered the show being as good as it was, though he barely remembered any of it at all from when he had been a kit. It had been uncanny, the blank state his mind had been in and even the occasional childish giggle that had escaped his muzzle at one of Steve’s quips. A frown formed itself on his brow as he thought further on it, hoping that he appeared as though he were concentrating on the education material as opposed to why he was enjoying kit media so much. A second later, he had made his decision, without looking up from his textbook he spoke in a flat, clear tone. “My apartment, Blues Clues marathon, now.” He looked up, meeting Jack’s and Malissa’s steady gaze. Malissa nodded slowly, after which Jack’s eyes widened and he nodded as well. The three of them were getting absolutely nothing productive done in the library, so why not actually do something mindless for a bit was what Hunter was suggesting. The sound of chairs scraping against hardwood was heard amongst a chorus of backpack zippers being opened and closed. A minute later, Hunter’s tail was the last thing out the door of the library study room as the group made their way toward his flat. 𓁥 𓁢 𓐭 After stopping by a convenience store along the way to load up on snacks, the gang had made their way up the three flights of stairs up to Hunter’s place. Having had guests before, he enjoyed the excited expressions on his friend’s muzzle as they saw his large collection of beanbag chairs. “Yo you’ve got the set up.” Jack whistled, turning around and allowing his light body to flop down onto one of the large cushions. “I’ll say.” Malissa added, settling herself down and reaching for the remote sitting on the coffee table. Hunter was about to follow suit, when he noticed Jack’s eyes wandering over to the ornate box his aunt had left him. He met the weasel’s inquisitive look, shrugging as he answered his friend’s question before he could voice it. “Inheritance, heirloom, from Egypt, and I’m forbidden to sell it.” Jack motioned expectantly with a paw. “Well, open it.” “Thanks for asking so nicely.” Hunter replied sarcastically, but he moved over to retrieve the container. After all, this was about as much use as this trinket was going to get. Heaving it off of the floor with a grunt, he set it on the coffee table as both Jack and Malissa sidled over next to him. Reaching for the lid, he tried to open it but found that it refused to budge. “What…” He tried again, but found that the lid remained stubbornly closed. “Nice dude.” Jack said, snorting to himself as Hunter gave him a look. “It did open, you know, there’s like a brooch or something inside. Opals and gold and stuff. I might need to get insurance on it…” Hunter said, after which Malis “And find someone with a crowbar, pity to break the box though.” Hunter rolled his eyes and heaved the box down underneath the coffee table once more. “Probably needs oil for the hinges or something. The ice cream’s gonna melt, get the show going.” Their interest having dissipated, the three college students eagerly turned their attention to the entertainment and sweet snacks at hand as they looked forward to a wholly unproductive weekday afternoon.

Chapter Two Class is in Session Hunter’s eyes moved to the bottom right of the computer screen for what must have been the tenth time in the last few minutes. He was in his Calculus 204 class, which despite only being a forty-five minute class felt like it was dragging on forever. The fennec really needed to pee, an urgency that had beset him only a few minutes into the hour and with complete suddenness. He thought he was going to be able to ignore it at first, as he knew his professor’s attitude towards students who interrupted his ‘teaching flow’. The intensity of the need to relieve himself had grown steadily, until he was beginning to squirm in his seat. The fox’s tail twitched, an outward sign of his increasing discomfort as he typed out a note on his word document and checked the time once more. Just fourteen more minutes… Only fourteen more minutes… You can wait fourteen more minutes… In the corner of his screen, Hunter saw a chat message pop up the name of which he recognized as the weasel that sat next to him, Jack. Although Hunter had always suspected that the mustelid was only friends with him because of his willingness to share his notes, the wily mammal had more than made up for this fact by having a tolerable sense of humor. Are there ants in your pants dude? Hunter grimaced, then quickly changed his facial expression to that of a blank one as he made eye contact with the professor. His teacher, a polar bear who took a special enjoyment in utilizing his intimidating visage to keep students in line, held it for a second too long before he diverted his attention back to the blackboard. Yeesh… You’d think we’re a bunch of high school students the way he treats us… Putting his thoughts on his professor aside, Hunter typed out a quick response before alt-tabbing back to his notes document. Gotta pee. Bad. Dunno what’s up. Hunter checked the clock, noting that there were twelve minutes left until he could gather up his belongings and make a beeline for the bathroom. There were two flights separating him from the nearest gentleman’s room, and he was seriously beginning to feel the ache in his bladder get to him. The fennec was even considering whether to risk the wrath of the Calculus professor and just getting up and leaving. He was barely able to pay attention to the tired voice of the bear to begin with. What’s wrong with me? Hunter was perplexed, as he did not recall drinking enough coffee that morning to constitute such an urgency. Bottom right of his screen, another message popped up. Pee out the window, quick while no one’s looking. Hunter rolled his eyes, and then immediately regretted it. “Mr. Sully, is there something about today’s lesson that you are finding particularly lugubrious?” The polar bear was now staring at him, and the eyes of everyone in the class had moved over to the little fennec as well. Some of the furs, knowing they were out of eyesight of the surly bear, snickered at the fox’s misfortune. The bear did like to pick on people at random, and it was partially done in good sport but nevertheless the overwhelming presence of the bear was a little intimidating. “Uhh…” Hunter said, intelligently, glancing down to see another message pop up, this time from his other friend in class. Busted. Malissa, an otter, caught his eye at the other end of the room and made a face at him. This relieved the tension somewhat, giving Hunter enough willpower to formulate a proper response. Realizing that this might be his only chance to avoid disaster, Hunter decided to be straight forward. “No, I’m sorry professor. I know how much you hate interruptions but to be completely frank my bladder is about to explode on me, excuse me.” The bear sighed, bringing his forepaw up to the bridge of his nose and squeezing it. “Have you absorbed anything I said in the past few minutes?” Hunter froze, in the middle of getting up, and then sheepishly shook his head no. The bear sighed again, but not unkindly. “See me after class and I’ll fill in the holes in your notes. Now go, go!” Hunter bolted, the laughter of the class behind him receding as he made his way towards the stairwell. The last thing he could make out was the bear beginning a speech on the importance of relieving oneself before the start of class which was greeted by even more laughter. Normally, Hunter would have been embarrassed, but in that moment he was so determined to make it that even being the temporary butt of the joke in his class was not something he cared about. Come on… Almost there… Hunter was now desperate, panting; he burst through the doors of the men’s room and rushed into the first open stall. His paws fumbled over his belt buckle as he hastily undid the front zipper of his pants. He was already peeing, as a wet mark had grown on the front of his boxers, but he was just able to direct the stream into the bowl before he completely soiled the front of his pants. The fennec fox sighed in relief, leaning one paw against the side of the stall as he caught his breath. “What… On earth… Did I drink…” He spoke aloud, the overwhelming sense of relief from the dire situation washing over him. “Dunno mate but if I’m being totally honest I don’t care man.” A voice from several stalls over jarred him out of his relieved reverie. “Uh, sorry?” Hunter posed, and there was a grunt of acknowledgement from the other fur that had spoken. Hunter redid the front of his pants, washed his paws, and slinked back down to class. 𓅯 𓆣 𓄃 Hunter returned to class as only a couple of minutes remained, the professor had finished up the point he was trying to illustrate early and had excused the class early. The fennec picked up his laptop, shouldering his book bag and padded over to the side of the polar bear’s desk. “First off, are you okay?” The bear asked, his demeanor somewhat softened as his brown eyes met Hunter’s blue ones. “Yeah, fine. Sorry, bit stressed I guess.” The polar bear gave him a look that told him that he did not fully believe the fox but he was not going to press further. The bear continued unabashed. “Look, you’re one of my brighter students and you clearly understand the material. I understand that people make mistakes but please, you’ve got to get this information in your brain as smoothly as possible. Please don’t let this happen again.” Hunter was silent, but he nodded quickly in response. He was surprised to hear this, as he had never seen this side of his professor. Something about him told him that the bear was much nicer than he portrayed himself to be. “Okay, this is what we covered in a nutshell…” The bear changed the topic back to mathematics, which Hunter was relieved to be able to contemplate without distraction. 𓃂 𓂀 𓁔 “Dude, what happened? Did he try to eat you?” Hunter snorted as he took a seat next to Jack, who had pieces of tuna fish sandwich stuck in his whiskers and was chewing loudly. Malissa chimed in, appearing more sympathetic to Hunter’s plight than the ruthless weasel. “Please wipe your muzzle, you're an awful sight.” She quipped, handing the weasel a napkin which the mustelid accepted, only to blow his nose into it instead of what it's proffered use was. “Gross.” Hunter commented, taking a seat and reaching over to take Jack’s bag of chips. “Oi!" Jack, playing up the drama as much as he could, gaped at Hunter and motioned with his paw at the stolen bag of goods. Hunter, who was feeling uncannily churlish at that moment, stuck his tongue at him before opening the bag and taking a deep sniff of its contents. “You get my math notes, I get your food. It’s only fair.” Malissa widened her eyes at him as well, but was unable to suppress the chortle that came out of his muzzle as she watched Hunter take a pawful of potato crisps and cram them into his muzzle. “Excuse me! This is daylight robbery!” Jack exclaimed, crossing his arms and giving Hunter the stink eye. He continued, sounding a little cross as he did so. “I offer you endless entertaining commentary in exchange for your well-written notes and this is how you respect our deal, the nerve!” Hunter mumbled between a mouthful of salted chips. “I feel sorry for you is the only point of reality in this entire exchange.” “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better after a special time with Daddy mathematics after you almost had your accident.” Hunter gave him a look, looking over to see Malissa’s judgment of the statement. She appeared neutral, too neutral, clearly she was entertained by the exchange but didn’t want to interfere. The fennec was used to Jack’s antics, he was a little immature after all. Raising his eyebrows at the weasel he pronounced as quietly and nonchalantly as he could after he swallowed his mouthful. “No Calc notes today then I’m afraid, we’re all out of stock.” “Oh come on!” Jack exclaimed, and this time it was both Malissa and Hunter that burst out laughing at the weasel’s incredulous expression.

👑 The Trinket By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Hunter Chapter One The Will Hunter sighed as his mother, who he was currently on the phone with, continued to drawl about the contractual obligations he now had to abide by. His great aunt, or now his late great aunt, had left him a few things in her will that came with a few specific rules. The fennec fox had barely known her, other than seeing her at a Christmas party and once during Thanksgiving when he was very young. She was not really even his aunt, being an in-law and a cheetah to boot. He had heard a few stories about her, some from his mother who had always spoken about her with a degree of awe mixed with disapproval. Whether or not she was even really his aunt in-law was in question sometimes, but her presence in the family was nevertheless appreciated, if not coveted. She had been an Egyptianologist, but not the kind that mostly stays on the campus of a university. Accused several times of being no better than a bounty hunter with a college degree, she would often beguile whoever cared to listen at the taverns and bars she was often found at about her great adventures in the middle east. There were usually many stories told and drinks bought during such evenings. Her alcoholism aside, she had apparently kept up her taste for adventuring into abandoned tombs and caves right up until the very end. They never recovered her, but enough time had passed where her body had been declared lost and her vast collection of artifacts reclaimed by the museums and universities. Judging from their hasty reclamation of such items, they had been waiting for exactly such an opportunity as her disappearance. They had claimed most of the artifacts, at least. “So like, dumb it down for me a bit, Mom?” Hunter asked, a slight note of exasperation coloring his tone of voice as one of his large ears flicked to the side in irritation. It was his mother’s turn to sigh, which was followed up by a response. “You just can’t sell any of the stuff. You’re supposed to keep it as if it were a family heirloom. There’s some evidence to support that this does belong to us give or take a hundred generations.” Hunter replied back. “Right, don’t sell. Just keep it. Anything else?” “Not until they go through the rest of her possessions and check her records. You might be getting some money too, but that’ll take a while.” Right… After the state takes its hefty cut… Hunter thought to himself, but he did his best to keep his sense of sarcasm out of the conversation. “Great, thanks Mom.” “Of course honey, was there anything else you wanted to know about Auntie Tare?” Hunter, knowing that this would probably prolong the conversation for another good hour, shook his head before realizing that his mother could not see his reaction. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hrm… No, no. I think I’m good for now, still… Processing and all that. I’ll talk to you later Mom.” “Okay sweetie, let me know what’s in the box. It looks mysterious!” “Yeah, I will. Love you Mom.” “Love you sweetie, bye bye now.” The line went silent, and Hunter put his phone down on the table with a sigh of relief. As silence enveloped the apartment, interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the fennec’s gaze drifted over to the box that sat in front of him on the dining room table. The word that could describe the wooden container could only be described as ornate. Carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs laced with what he suspected was gold lining on the borders of the miniature crate gave the appearance of a most valuable item being stored inside. The wood had been treated with oil, and with great care as well. Part of him wondered if the box might be empty, as the container itself looked relatively valuable. Whatever it was, he was not surprised that his aunt had mentioned that he was not allowed to sell it. I’d probably make a pretty penny off of it too… Hunter mused to himself, as he pushed his chair back and stood up, only to crouch in front of the box in order to more closely examine its decor. He was not literate in Egyptian hieroglyphs, nor was he particularly interested in learning more about them. History had always bored the little fox, and despite having a renowned, though estranged, Egyptologist in the family it never sparked the same fascination and excitement as it did in Aunt Tare. Well, might as well have a look then. Reaching forward, he undid the clasp on the front of the box and pushed the lid open. Its hinges worked silently, and Hunter immediately noted that the entire inside of the box was laced with a vibrant, purple velvet. Amidst the swathes of cloth, Hunter beheld a palm sized brooch made of a mixture of dulled copper and gold. Marveling at it, the fennec’s eyes widened as he scanned its surface. The fennec picked it up with a paw and noted its significant weight. Equipped with a pin which Hunter presumed was intended to keep a cloak around a traveler’s shoulders, Hunter turned the brooch over and let out a surprised breath. The ornament had been placed upside down in its container, and it was studded with several small jewels with one large piece in its center. Peering closely at them, it took Hunter a moment to realize that they were opals. In the center of the metal disk, the largest of the opals was oval in shape. It gleamed as if freshly polished when it caught the last of the afternoon sun streaming from Hunter’s half shuttered window. A small scratch in the center of the opal was the only blemish on the piece, revealing the rainbow colored insides of the gem that refracted in ever changing patterns of color as he turned it over. Strangely, despite the fact that it had been sitting in the box ever since it had been delivered to his doorstep inside of its own, discrete cardboard container, the brooch was warm to the touch. And it felt like it was getting warmer. “It’s… pretty…” Hunter said lamely, to no one in particular. His initial curiosity had been sated, and he was now coming to the conclusion that he really had no use for the gem-encrusted display piece other than to perhaps show it off for his friends. The more he thought about it, being the owner of such a valuable piece now might mean that he would have to take insurance out on it. Great… Another responsibility… The fennec thought grimly to himself. Hunter was about to set the artifact down, when the opal flashed catching his eyes. Blinking, he looked down at the gem and wondered if he had imagined the sudden luminescence that had come from the piece. Gingerly, he brought it back up to his eyes and peered closely at the scratch on the gem’s surface to see if he had missed some refractive angle inside of the opal’s crack. Seeing that there was nothing he could immediately detect, he placed the brooch back down in its comfortable bed, this time right side up with the opal facing the ceiling of his apartment. He thought about where he should put the box, glancing around his apartment and seeing now apparent free space where he might rest it. I’ll probably just chuck it into my closet or something… His stomach rumbled, reminding him that his mother’s phone call had caused him to miss lunch at a reasonable hour. Closing the box, he decided to put his inheritance out of his mind for the time being. Padding over to his closet, he picked out his jacket and fumbled the keys to his apartment out of the bowl they rested in. I’m kind of hankering for some chicken… He thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift away from the strange set of rocks that were now his, now and forever. He did, however, check twice that he had locked the door to his apartment before bounding down the staircase leading to the lobby of his apartment complex.

Chapter 7: Fetch The sensation of the chastity cage firmly affixed to Bolt’s bits was an unfamiliar one. Although he had indulged himself in the odd fantasy or two involving their use, not to mention consumed a not so small amount of online content featuring them, he had never had the opportunity to experiment with one himself. Now, not only did he feel its iron grip keeping his jewels firmly contained, he had experienced what it felt like to be caged up against his will. The diaper played a significant role in serving as insulation between the tiger’s hip and the chastity device. Had it not been snuggly taped around his waist, it would have likely been a painful experience for both him and the feline. The padding around his waist resolved all issues, insulating his front and bottom in a manner he was slowly becoming accustomed to. The comfort of the fresh pair of crinkling underwear was beginning to grow on him, unlike the subdued erection he now found almost impossible to calm down from. As if further spurred on by the impossibility of growing to his full length, the knowledge itself that he was utterly helpless in even popping a boner made it all the more maddeningly frustrating to have even this most basic of privileges sorely denied him. Reflexively, he let out a puff of air from his nostrils in frustration. Yuri immediately picked up on his impulsive act and chuckled softly, his canines flashing as he gave the pup a toothy grin. “Having trouble?” He remarked, sarcasm dripping from his rumbling tone of voice as he rounded at the foot of the stairwell and turned into the living room. Cinder was reclining idly on the couch, a bottle of wine stood open on the coffee table in front of him. Cupped elegantly in one of his paws, the caracal sipped lazily from his glass of red before glancing up to greet the two furs with a smile. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite little pet! Did you have a nice nap, puppy?” As Yuri stood next to the couch, his arms wrapped around Bolt’s lower back and underneath his padded bottom, he gently bounced him up and down as he watched the husky’s ears bob gently up and down from the movement. The caracal reached up with his free paw, affectionately patting the subby canine on his diaper butt, eliciting loud crinkling from the material. Bolt blushed, not for the first time that evening by far, and nodded softly in response as he found himself suckling on his pacifier gag for comfort. Bolt had to admit to himself that the process of napping, messing, and getting changed into a fresh pair of diapers had been quite a refreshing experience. After getting his fur cleaned up by the doting attention provided by the burly tiger currently holding him aloft, he had indeed found himself feeling grateful for having his diaper changed. Despite the cage now hindering any sort of pleasure he might have gotten from the situation, he could not help but feel a sense of contentment from the attention. Bolt’s ears perked up as Cinder moved his paws down to reach for something underneath the coffee table. The caracal caught the husky’s movement, reading his eagerness and giving him a whimsical grin in response. “Oh? Are you an excited little puppy dog?” Cinder now clutched a bright, neon green tennis ball in one of his paws. The husky’s eyes alighted upon it immediately, and despite himself he felt his tail beginning to wag behind him. Although an anthropomorphic creature, the genes involved in finding enjoyment in running and fetching spherical objects still remained. Although, adults such as himself usually worked out such fascinations through keen engagement in ball-containing recreational sport. However, when Bolt had been an actual little puppy, he was no exception when it came to being a lover of a good old-fashioned game of fetch. Cinder held the brightly colored orb up on one of his paws, making direct eye contact with Bolt as he twisted his wrist back and forth, shaking the ball. Bolt’s eyes flitted from the ball to Cinder’s steady gaze, his heart rate rising in his chest as he felt the excitement of a chase building up. Yuri lowered him to the floor, his padded rear crinkling against his hindpaws as he was sat down in a kneeling position. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Yuri had settled himself down on the couch after selecting his own cup of wine in his paw. He held the wine glass up to his muzzle, his nostrils flaring delicately as he noted its contents. Cinder glanced over to Yuri, leaning his head forward as he gave him a sideways glance. His eyes lighting up, he nodded and placed the tennis ball on the surface of the coffee table. Bolt followed every movement. From behind one of the couch pillows, he withdrew a pair of soft, baby blue objects which were linked together with a leather strap. Bolt’s attention wavered, dragging his eyes reluctantly from the teetering tennis ball to register the item that Cinder had revealed. “Come here, little puppy! Let’s get your booties on for playtime.” Cinder sounded out in a sing-song fashion, as if he were indeed addressing their newly adopted puppy dog and inviting him over to the front door for his ‘walkies.’ Deep in his headspace, Bolt sidled obediently forwards, his rear swaying from side to side as his tail now wagged madly behind him. His cheeks remained slightly flushed, as he retained some modicum of awareness of his situation despite having been lured into his subordinate headspace. “Sit!” Bolt sat, moving his footpaws forward as he lowered himself down onto his rear end. His seat cushioned by his padding, his tail increased in tempo as the caracal drew his attention to slipping on the plush booties onto the husky. Expertly sliding them over his footpaws, the feline paid careful attention to buckling them snuggly around his ankles; he tugged once at the strap between them as if to check their resilience. Then, he pressed his paw against the sole of the bootie, eliciting a muffled yelp of surprise as Bolt felt several dull spikes press into his sensitive paw pads. It had not hurt, but the pressure had come as a surprise nevertheless. “Just in case you get any ideas that you’re a bit too little for just yet.” The cat added cooly, patting the bottom of the bootie once more before he reached for the tennis ball. Yuri watched the entire spectacle with the detached air of a nobleman observing his hounds mucking about in his courtyard, swilling the glass clutched in his paw. Cinder held the ball in front of Bolt’s nose, waggling it back and forth and grinning with glee as the canine’s eyes widened, his nose following the orb’s movement with small jerks of his muzzle. “Do you want it? Huh, boy? Want the ball?” Cinder’s voice was breathy and excited, Bolt picking up on the cat’s energy as he allowed the contagious glee contained in it to seep into his dulled mindset. I want it! I do want the ball! Give me the ball! Bolt was now on all fours, his footpaws deliberately turned up as his waist swayed, his hips in line with his tail swishing as he followed the ball’s movements with his complete and unwavering attention. Reaching forward with his free paw, the cat deftly unclasped the rear buckle holding the canine’s pacifier gag in place. It clattered to the ground, the nipple covered in a fine sheen of his own saliva. His tongue lolled outwards, his mind not even registering the fact that his ability to speak had just been granted to him. No, it was just him. And the ball. With a sudden flick of his wrist, Cinder tossed the ball towards the direction of the hearth. Bolt’s head swiveled towards the direction that the cat had flung the object, his mittens slipping and awkwardly shuffling on the hardwood as his legs moved him the best they could towards the thrown projectile. After almost sliding and falling flat on his face, Bolt gently lowered his muzzle and picked up the ball between his teeth. He gave it a squeeze, his jaw working up and down as an immense sense of satisfaction poured through him at the comforting resistance the rubber ball gave. He turned around, ears perked up and tail wagging as he showed off his catch to the two felines. “Good boy! Bring it back! Come on now!” Holding his head high in a demonstration of pride, Bolt practically pranced on all fours as much as his restraints allowed him to before he gently deposited the ball back into Cinder’s waiting, open paw. “Good puppy!” Cinder scratched Bolt between the ears, a cascade of reward hormones barreling through his subdued state of mind as he candidly received the praise. For all the world around him, all of his attention was focused solely on the immense sense of reward he gleaned from the open praise. “Go get it!” And he was off again, wiggling and waddling towards the bouncing ball before gently wrapping his jaws around it and returning his prize back into the feline’s paw. “Do you like your new puppy, Cinder?” Yuri prompted, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he took another sip of his wine. Cinder took a moment to respond, holding the ball up and teasing the adult canine before him as Bolt leaped up on two of his paws and batted effectively at the cat with his mittened paws. As Cinder tossed the ball once, he grinned and nodded at Yuri before returning his attention to the scampering, padded pup in front of him. “Very much, Daddy!” His voice rang out, an octave higher than it usually was as he slid into a child-like demeanor, immediately picking up on the tiger’s proffered scenario. “Well, a puppy is a big responsibility, sweetie. Make sure to give him lots of love and diaper checks if you’re going to keep him.” “Yes, sir!” As Bolt returned once more with the ball, he rose up on his knees and held his paws up to his chest in a begging position. Cinder patted him on the head, and Bolt’s head tilted in curiosity as he looked down to see the caracal’s paw moving towards his padded front. Cinder squeezed the front of Bolt’s diaper, gently examining it before sliding his paw underneath and patting him on the bottom. Suddenly Bolt came to, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation for a moment as he blushed profusely. The ball remained in his muzzle, for he knew better than to drop the act of play, but the waves of humiliation continued to wash over him as he was given a very deliberate diaper check. “He’s still dry! No need for a diaper change yet.” “Very good, kitten.” Yuri purred, his other paw reaching forward and gently scratching Cinder between his ears. The caracal’s eyes closed, and he let loose a luxurious purr at the physical attention, his pointed ears flattening as he leaned into the attention. An unexpected spike of jealousy rose up in the vulnerable husky’s mind, and before he was able to stop himself a whine rose up in his own throat. His tail lowered between his legs, pushing up against his padded bottom as the uncontrolled emotion manifested itself in his body language. Yuri glanced at the dog, grinning as he noted the depth of the puppy mindset the two felines had lured him into. He’ll do. He thought to himself, as he deliberately continued to give his affections only to the cat that sat next to him. Bolt waited, his hips wriggling with impatience as he maintained his begging position. He wanted to be given attention, affection, even love at that moment. But it was not his turn. Subby puppies such as him had no choice, but to wait. His member strained in its cage, the scenario clear as day in his mind as he experienced a momentary out-of-body perspective at his current position. He was being put in his place, deliberately situated at the bottom of the totem pole which was reinforced doubly by the continuous denial situation underneath his padding. Bolt would get his due, but only at the discretion, or whim, of his feline captors. After a moment, Yuri’s scratching abated, and Cinder heaved a sigh of content as his eyes fluttered open. “Why don’t you water the puppy, hmm? He must be thirsty by now.” Bolt was thirsty, the amount of saliva he had expended suckling on the pacifier gag and now drooling all over the tennis ball in his mouth had whittled away at the water in his body. Cinder nodded, obediently standing up before sidling around the husky. He pointed a finger at Bolt, his paw pad mere inches from his nose as he admonished firmly but not sternly at him. “You, stay.” Bolt stayed, despite feeling slightly uncomfortable he maintained his position without question as his eyes followed the retreating form of the caracal as he padded towards the kitchen. Yuri leaned back once more, as Bolt looked over to him the tiger gave the slightest hint of a nod. Once more, a sense of reward spiked inside of the canine’s mind. The approving look in the tiger’s eyes gave him an intense sensation of pleasure. He was a good dog, a good puppy, a well behaved little puppy-dog that very much needed his diapers, and belonged profoundly in his puppy cage. A moment later, Cinder returned, carefully holding a brightly colored, orange dog bowl in his paws which lowered down in front of Bolt. “Here you go, little guy. Drink up.” He uttered, patting Bolt on the head once before holding his paw in front of his muzzle for the canine to deposit the tennis ball into. Reluctantly, Bolt moved his head forward and allowed his jaw to slacken, dropping the ball into Cinder’s paw before he lowered himself back down on all fours. Yuri uttered something and Cinder responded, they two entering in a low-toned conservation. The specifics of what they said became lost on Bolt, as his attention was now fixed on the bowl before him. The water rippled, still maintaining its kinetic energy from the caracal’s movement as Bolt studied it. This was an all-time new low, while the babying and infantile demeanor with which he had been fed earlier was one thing, being made to lap from a feral dog’s bowl was another. He whimpered for a moment, his ears splayed and flattened against his skull as he finally resigned himself to committing to the treatment. The tip of his muzzle graced the water’s surface, and as the last remaining dregs washed down a drain playing out in his mind’s eye, he flicked his tongue in and out as he gently lapped at the bowl’s contents. Even as his cheeks burned, it felt good to drink the refreshingly cool, faucet water. As he drank, Cinder settled himself against the tiger’s mighty form, cuddling up against him as he nuzzled his purring muzzle into his neck fur. Yuri growled out yet another round of praise as his footpaw drifted towards the husky’s head. “Good boy.” Bolt was unable to help it, his tail wagging once more, even as he was patted on the head as he drank by the tiger’s foot. A small drizzle of pre oozed out of the front orifice of his cage, as Bolt’s arousal continued to grow in line with his rising sense of libido. God… He thought to himself, his member now throbbing almost painfully in the chastity device, his pulse registering in his cock’s head as it continued to push against the unyielding force of the steel cage. I fucking love this…

Chapter 12 He began indulging himself in babish thoughts, reminding himself that he was dressed up so silly little babies like him couldn’t be trusted by themselves. They had to be properly secured to keep themselves safe from any trouble that they might get into. His arms were at his sides and his ankles were secured for his own good, the rabbit had done it to him because she loved him so much. He fell on his back and squirmed around in his diaper, his raging erection coming back with a feeling of deep satisfaction. He was exactly where he belonged, well padded between his legs so his accidents were safely contained, the hugging jacket around him to remind him that the rabbit loved him very much, and his ankles anchored at the corner of his cage to keep him from moving. After all, the rabbit had instructed him not to move around. And he would do anything for the rabbit. Especially being a good baby that uses his diapers and doesn’t use his body unless the rabbit allows him to. And the rabbit had made the decision that he shouldn’t, and had even been so generous as to put him into bondage to make sure he felt nice and safe and loved. Scott felt light-headed in his ecstasy, his struggles became weaker as he began to doze softly in the playpen, his arms tightly hugging around him and the ankle restraints bringing his legs together, pressing against the padding. The straight jacket crotch strap pressed against his padded tightly, offering a pleasurable amount of resistance as Scott gently began moving his waist forwards and backwards, the cushy padding softly supporting his furry bottom and the strap offering pleasurable pressure on his male front. He moaned happily and suckled on the pacifier in his mouth, taking comfort from all the things forced lovingly upon him. Scott felt a pressure building in his bladder, he had drunk quite a lot during breakfast, something that he was sure the rabbit had done intentionally. After all, she wanted to make sure that he used his diapers like a good baby, just like he was supposed to. He allowed himself to let go, and a warmth began to grow on the front of his diaper, pressed against him by the crotch strap. After he had thoroughly soaked his diaper, he squirmed around, enjoying the wet padding against him, keeping in his thoughts that he was a helpless, little, bondaged baby that really could do little else but use his diapers like a good boy. He let out a sigh, and again allowed his mind to soak in the pool of ecstacy brought to him by the infantile predicament he was in. Soon however, he found himself experiencing another pressure, he smiled through his pacifier, and he closed his eyes. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. This time, however, he’d take a different approach, he breathed steadily, and relaxed completely. Without exerting any movement or effort, he allowed the pressure to build on his diapered bottom, and when he felt it reach a tipping point, his relaxed muscles gave way, and he began to soil his diaper. The mess pushed out of him as he made no attempt at all to hold it in. He allowed his tushy to do the work for him, letting the mess escape him just like a real baby would, without a hint of restraint. Why should he try not to mess his pants? That’s what his pants were for! The rabbit had put them there for him exactly for this reason, to make sure that when he messed himself that they’d be there for him to catch his mess and keep it safe so the rabbit could clean him up easily. He realized that quite a lot was coming out from his bottom, the mess was spreading through the seat of his pants as he allowed himself to thoroughly diddy in his padding. The warmth of him wetting and messing himself was pressed against him due to the strap running underneath him. He squirmed around a little, shifting the mess and further pushing it against him. He had, quite literally, uncontrollably messed in his diaper. He had simply allowed the pressure in his stomach to give way into the waiting padding, and hadn’t bothered to hold in the urine in his bladder. He’d used his diapers as they were intended, because the rabbit, his loving caretaker, would have wanted it that way. Scott sat up slowly, allowing the weight of his torso to push down on his bottom. He sat in own mess and suckled happily on his pacifier. He sat, ankles strapped together and arms hugging reassuringly around him in his own dirty diapers, like a good little helpless baby. Another stream of warm urine filled the front of his diaper, the thirsty padding waiting for him soaked it up, and expanded slightly, furthering the pressure of the crotch strap on his padded front. His mind was awash with infantile thoughts and sayings, filling the space between his ears with the pleasant sounds of the rabbit’s reassurances. “It’s okay that you wet yourself, little babies can’t help it! Mommy’s here to clean you up and put you into fresh new diapers, so that when you wet again they'll be there to take care of you! A little bit of mommy is always with you, your diapers are your Mommy’s care for you so that you stay nice and clean, and the straight jacket is to make sure that you always feel Mommy’s loving embrace around you. The pacifier is to remind you that Mommy’s warm milk from her own baba will always be there for you to fill your tummy. And the bonds on your legs are to make sure that you’ll never wander off away from Mommy, you’ll always be close to her and she’ll never leave you. All put together and you always know that Mommy is always here, always ready to take care of you and keep you safe.” Scott leaned back and landed on his back with a cushioned thud, his eyes fluttered, and suddenly he fell fast asleep, the rabbit’s sweet voice still in his ears, telling him how much she loved him.

This story was desginated as a patreon exclusive, we're up to Ch. 21 here. 🙂

Chapter 11 Scott awoke the next day to find the morning light shining through his window and onto the carpet in the middle of his room. He tried to get up only to immediately become reminded of his predicament. He was still tightly strapped in, laying in a very dirty diaper and unable to move. He suckled nervously on the pacifier in his mouth, hoping the rabbit would come and rescue him soon. He halfheartedly struggled against his restraints, but to no avail. After what felt like an eternity the leopard heard the door open, and the rabbit softly padded in. Cooing softly, she lowered the rail of the crib and began to unstrap him from his restraints. She placed a paw on his diapered front and squeezed it gently, “My my, we are a messy one this morning, aren’t we?” Lifting the leopard with the ease of a strongman she deposited him on the changing table and strapped his wrists and ankles in. Scott wanted nothing but to be changed from the diaper he was in. The rabbit went about her business grabbing a fresh diaper, baby powder, and baby oil. Unbuttoning Scott’s sleeper she set to work cleaning him up, Scott felt relieved and incredibly pleased as he was freshly powdered and padded up into a clean, daytime diaper. He arched his back slightly and moaned with pleasure into his pacifier. The rabbit turned and walked over to the large closet, she leaned in and began removing several things from it. Scott strained but couldn’t raise his head more than a few inches from the changing table as he was securely strapped in. He felt a little apprehensive, he still had no idea what exactly was in that closet and what the rabbit had in store for him. She’d kept him on the tip of his paws the entire time and Scott felt incredibly subject to her will. Turning around, Scott saw that her arms seemed to be full of a large managery of straps and buckles, his mind racing he realized that she was carrying a baby blue colored straight jacket. His eyes widened as she began to unstrap him from the changing table. Gently humming to him she stood up on the floor, and swiftly and efficiently without giving Scott a chance to refute what was going to happen to him, she threw the straightjacket over his head and pulled it down, threading his arms into the sleeves. Scott took a cautionary step back but the rabbit quickly spun him around and began pulling the straps tight behind his back as well as pulling under and tightly strapping the crotch strap, which to his surprise was about three inches wide. Scott felt a pressure on his neck and before he knew it he realized that, “She put a collar on me?!” he thought in bewilderment. He spat out the pacifier in his mouth and was just about to ask her what in the world she had in mind he found another pacifier unceremoniously stuffed in his mouth and kept in by a strap behind his head. Scott tried moving his arms and speaking, but his heart began to pound he found he was completely incapacitated. Scott felt excited, scared, and at the rabbit’s mercy. His excitement pushed against his diaper and the crotch strap as the rabbit attached a leash to his collar, and sweetly said, “Now come along dear, it’s time to get your day started!” With little choice to do otherwise, the leopard walked agreeably behind the rabbit as she lead him down the stairs, the thick diaper between his legs pushing against him and causing him to waddle slightly. She lead him into the kitchen and lifted him into his high chair, strapping him in tightly, which almost seemed redundant as the leopard was already quite well restrained. He watched her as she prepared breakfast, softly singing to herself in an enchanting voice. Scott squirmed with pleasure, he was completely at the rabbit’s mercy. He hadn't realized how much he would enjoy such a feeling of helplessness. He now saw that the rabbit quickly taken control of his entire life. He wondered if he’d be able to get out of his predicament if he wanted. However just as he began to worry, the rabbit had finished up breakfast and was undoing his pacifier restraint and putting a bib on him. He opened his mouth and a few times, feeling a little bit sore, having spent the night suckling his dummy. But quickly found a spoon with scrambled egg in it. He ate appreciatively, the rabbit really was an excellent cook. After he had finished his eggs and bits of sausage, the rabbit began feeding him strawberry and banana yogurt, his personal favorite. She wiped the yogurt from around his maw affectionately, Scott looked deep into her eyes, the maternal warmth that emanated from there was still very present, and he found himself feeling as if he was melting into a warm pool of love and affection. He’d do anything the rabbit wanted, her pure intention and empathy towards him made him feel as if he was the most important person in her world. He’d do anything to make her happy and proud of him. She reached down a paw and slipped a finger into the lining of his diaper, and then padded the front of his diaper. “Good boy, still dry.” He grinned at her, happy to make her happy. As she cleaned him up he once again inserted the strapped pacifier and secured it on him. He squirmed with giddiness, breakfast had been really good. Quickly the rabbit put away the dishes and breakfast items and began to unstrap him from the highchair. She picked him and carried him into the living room. Yet another surprise awaited him there. The rabbit had taken it upon herself to unpack all of the boxes he had ordered, where she had hidden the contents he had no idea, but he saw that the living had been transformed into a play area for him. The floor was covered in toys: stuffed animals, large legos, puzzles, dolls, cars, anything that a child could possibly want to play with. And in the corner stood a large, industrial sized playpen. Scott’s pacifier would have fallen out of his mouth if it hadn’t been strapped in in awe as he saw the behemoth in his living room. He had seen on the shopping site that the thing was no joke, but seeing it put together in his living took his breath away. The playpen had several locking mechanisms and restraints within it, allowing various forms of incapacitation to be administered to the preferences of the bondage victim. These included leg straps, arm straps, body straps, cuffs for the hands overhead, in the corner, and even below the individual. There was an adjustable top that allowed the individual to be locked in. The sides were made out of a carbon fiber mesh that while it was possible to see through, to tear through would require incredible strength. The thing was built like a fortress. To his excitement he found the rabbit heading straight for the playpen, lowering him into it he allowed her to place his ankles into some leg straps in the corner, limiting his mobility in the playpen. He looked up at her as she raised the lockable roof over his head, and told him to be a good little boy as she worked around the house. His tail raised and twitched in happy excitement behind his well padded bottom. He’d do anything to make the rabbit happy. She left him to his thoughts, he stayed there on his padded bottom and looked around. He pulled against his restraints, enjoying the restriction of his movements.

Part Four “Pet” Janet let out a comfortable moan, her thighs twitching and pressing together in response to the pleasant source of vibration that was being brushed teasingly over her privates. Though she was still mostly asleep, not wanting to wake up from what had been a very comfortable slumber, she felt herself growing increasingly aroused as the stimulation became steadily more intense and direct. She cracked her eyes open, blinking the sleep out of her vision. She stared blearily down at the scene before her, at first unable to comprehend what she was looking at. She was a little distracted as well, as the sogginess of her padding rubbing against her most sensitive area was slowly becoming too much to ignore. The matriarch had returned to Janet’s side, watching the human with an intense curiosity. Janet’s half-opened eyelids drifted down from the plumage decorated fox down to the front of her soaked diaper. The smoke’s effects had muddled her mind further, but she managed a singular moment of clarity as the device the matriarch was wielding was momentarily lifted from her padded crotch. A… Vibrator wand..? How… Where did they… Her stipulations as to the steadily increasing supply of human paraphernalia the foxes had successfully hoarded were halted as the vibrator was pressed down firmly against her front. She moaned, sensual pleasure coursing through her neurons at an increasingly overwhelming rate as her mind returned to the pleasant blankness caused by the mystifying smoke. The matriarch pushed the device harder into her sodden padding, and before Janet could gather herself to formulate another thought she felt her hips bucking. She was helpless, tied down and pleasured to a near maddening level of sexual ecstasy she felt herself releasing herself passionately into the front of her diaper. For a few seconds, all she could understand was deep, profound euphoria. Nothing could have felt better than cumming into the front of her soggy diapers, the wand was pressed further into the now creasing, crinkling plastic further exacerbating her orgasm, limbs quivering as a shudder coursed its way down her entire body. Almost as soon as it arrived, Janet felt herself descending down from her hormonal high as an emphatic lethargy came over her body. She felt weak, unable even to tug at her bonds. The matriarch watched in fascination as the strange creature before her blinked several times, her eyelids appearing heavy before falling back down to sleep as quickly as she had woken up. The fox chittered under her breath thoughtfully, flicking the vibrator’s switch into the off position and lowering it to her side. She leaned forward, briefly snuffling Janet’s hair before retracting to once more study her intently. Noting that the fur-less creature appeared to be determined to sleep, she withdrew from the tent. Outside, she snapped her fingers at one of the foxes, briefly exchanging a word with them as she commanded them to attend to the dwindling fire inside of Janet’s hut. ⤐ ⬷ Janet stirred once more, unwilling to rouse herself from her pleasant snooze. She could feel a distinct pressure building up in her lower abdomen, growing steadily more intense pushing its way to the front of her attention. She shifted, trying to adjust herself into a more comfortable position only to be held back, momentarily forgetting she was still restricted. “Mmm…” She murmured, a note of irritation that sounded far more churlish than she would have normally allowed herself to express coming from her lips. She grunted, frustrated and annoyed that something as mundane as her own body’s needs was bothering her. At last, she pushed. Just… Some gas… She thought to herself, already falling back into the depths of her dreamless dozing as with the release of pressure came a welcome relief. Janet was completely unaware that the fox that had been ordered to rekindle the fire had witnessed the entire scene. He had watched, alarmed but morbidly intrigued by the larger being as she appeared to be struggling against a great discomfort. His jaw had slackened in abject disbelief as the sounds of flatulence followed by a much deeper, wetter sound came from the human’s rear end. Even from his vantage point, he had seen the bottom of the human’s diaper balloon outward to accompany the subsequent mess. She had voided herself without a second thought, not even bothering to open her eyes. Followed by a sigh of contentment, her head had lolled to the side as her body relaxed once more. The fox felt himself begin to sweat from apprehension; he dithered, momentarily unsure of what he should do under such circumstances. Turning, he fled the tent running on soft paw pads towards the tent of the village matriarch, his tail swishing behind him as it exited between the flaps of the tent. ⤐ ⬷ Janet’s head felt fuzzy, for the first few minutes of wakefulness she was unable to even grasp who she was let alone where she was still being held captive. The blanket that smothered her thoughts was not unpleasant, allowing nothing more complicated than a pleasant appreciation of the feeling of fresh air against her nether regions. Something wet and warm was wiping away at her bottom, clearing it of a foreign substance she could not recall having applied to her cheeks when she was last awake. It felt nice, the adept hands of whoever was taking care of her took great care in delicately caressing her private parts as they were washed. Still hazy, Janet blinked the night’s worth of sand out of her eyes before glancing sluggishly down her body as her curiosity got the better of her. The female fox, who was now balling up the diaper that Janet had been wearing the night previously, appeared to be handling the item with a degree of separation and disgust that puzzled the anthropologist for a moment. Then it struck her, with a deep-seated feeling of embarrassment came over as she realized that she must have soiled herself as she slept. Not only had she relieved herself into her padding without waking up like she had when she had been very little, the foxes had apparently taken this in stride as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Unsure of what to do or how to react, she felt her cheeks burning at the thought of being discovered in the morning in a thoroughly used diaper. Despite the strange fire’s effects on her, muffling her thoughts and reasoning, the feeling of being very vulnerable in that moment crept over her causing her to feel overwhelmingly self-conscious. She mumbled indistinctly, pulling helplessly against her bonds as she thought of a thing to say to conserve what little dignity of hers remained. It might as well have fallen on deaf ears, however, as the foxes still did not understand her. This was worsened by far as she found that her lips felt oddly clumsy, and try as she might she could not coax them to form into anything more coherent than nonsensical babble. Her worries as to the steady loss of control she was experiencing was soon lost to her muddled thoughts, for even as another diaper was being fluffed up and laid beneath her bottom the nipple of the bottle was presented to her. Her eyes crossed, a gurgle emanating from her stomach as she realized that she was ravenous. Without thinking, her lips parted and she accepted the sweet, warm milk with gratitude as it quenched her parched throat. With Janet successfully distracted, the fox that had been in charge of changing her carefully placed the last tape onto the landing zone of the diaper with adept paws, affectionately patting her freshly padded front as she did so. Janet relaxed. The hints of worry and apprehension that had been kindled inside of her ever since her capture now forgotten and laid to the wayside. She simply could not string together the effort nor the wherewithal to comprehend her predicament anymore. Her attention span lapsed, transitioning from her bottle, to the need to pee, and to the various baby toys the foxes amused themselves with by holding them over her head and giggling as she watched in obvious rapture. Janet found that she found the rattles and stuffed animals they presented her with immensely entertaining, gurgling softly, eyes sparkling as she laughed and sniffled whenever play time was over. The foxes took apparent delight in this, cooing softly and tickling her nose with the tips of their tails as they took turns taking care of and playing with her. Soon enough, the tent became a regular place of visitation for the inhabitants of the little village. While before they had been somewhat wary of her, now the matron and matriarch combined often had to shoo away their curious kits from overstimulating their human charge. Despite the progression of Janet’s deteriorating mind, the effects of the powder thrown onto the fire that was lit every night before she fell asleep, she now found that she did not enjoy bath time as much as before. She would whimper, and occasionally shed a few tears as they stripped her of her diaper and wiped her down with sponges and towels. At the conclusion of her baths, she would always wriggle in delight as a fresh diaper was presented to her, now having become incredibly fond of the sensation of the soft, fluffy folds of the protective undergarment. The anthropologist’s brief moments of clarity and worry came with less and less frequency, until without even realizing it she found herself unable to recall what her life was even like before she became the fox’s plaything. Her days were filled only with the many toys she found incredibly stimulating, and the multiple diaper changes she had to go through every day as her incontinence grew to even day time wettings and messes. These she soon to become barely aware of, until she noticed that her diaper felt a little warmer and squishier than usual. She hardly thought twice about it now, even the smallest twinge in her bladder or slight cramp in her torso would lead to a fresh accident only a minute later. The foxes, of course, did not seem to mind her growing incontinence as they would change her in the mornings, afternoon, and once before bedtime to ensure that she was comfortable. Unbeknownst to Janet, however, the lower ranking females in charge of changing her messy diapers began to draw straws for the task. This fact remained unknown even to their matriarch and Janet’s matron, who accompanied the majority of Janet’s feedings and baths and only changed her on a handful of occasions. When it became clear that the human had been mentally incapacitated enough by the effects of the fire’s smoke, they began to experiment with freeing her from her bonds. Having spent several weeks now unable to support any weight on her legs, Janet’s legs wobbled and she was able only to crawl around. The foxes did not allow her to leave the tent, stooping down to turn Janet’s chin away with soft paws whenever she meandered too close to the tent’s entrance. They entertained themselves by watching her crawl around the straw floor of her tent, her thickly padded bottom waving cheerfully behind her as she played with the toys strewn about her makeshift nursery with gusto. At this point, Janet had developed an ever present drool. Her chin was constantly moist with her saliva, causing the foxes to often affectionately wipe her face or don a bib around her neck to collect the continuous stream. The young woman delighted in the attention, finding her pleasures now revolved around the many affections and attentions the foxes gave her. The inhabitants of the island delighted in babying her, mocking her and chiding her in their foreign tongue as they amused themselves with how passive and dim she was becoming. Occasionally, late at night, the matriarch would stride into Janet’s tent with the vibrator wand. Janet’s straps would be tightened until she was unable to move more than a centimeter. The matriarch would then tease her, grinning and showing off her pearlesque, pointed teeth, as she watched the human writhe and moan in response to the stimulation. Sometimes, she would allow her subject to finish. Other times she would withdraw from the tent prematurely, leaving Janet’s dulled mind aching and yearning for more. The days following such denials, the pacified human could be found pressing her palms against the front of her diaper to the point where the foxes would often have to restrain her to keep her wandering hands from slipping inside the leak guards of her diaper, used or not. ⤐ ⬷ One day, as Janet was shaking one of the rattles that her babysitters had left for her to entertain herself with, she glanced up to see the matriarch and her company standing in the front entrance of the tent. “Buh!” She exclaimed, a line of drool dribbling down the left corner of her mouth as she shook the rattle at them in excitement. Was it time for a change? Her baba? Hopefully not a bath… Janet’s dim thoughts, little more than wordless instincts and vague concepts, whirled in confusion as the cognitively stunted woman tried to figure out what would cause the big female fox in charge to be looking at her with such a keen gleam in her eye. She sat back, her thick padding serving as a soft cushion for a seat while she stared blankly at them, chewing on the bottom handle of the plastic rattle to soothe her sense of anxiety. As the matriarch approached, Janet looked down and did her best to stir as little as she could. Throughout the past weeks, she had been spanked twice by the feathered fox in response to when she had protested or struggled too much during her baths. She now always felt a little cowed whenever the stern visage of the fox appeared before her, as the notion that she was very much subservient to the matriarch had been successfully imbued into her soft, malleable head. Janet felt something being wrapped around her neck, smooth but strong, and she heard a click behind her head as something was buckled into place. “Neh-na.” The soft, rasping voice of the matriarch encouraged her; she tugged at the other end of a leash attached to the makeshift collar around Janet’s neck. Knowing better than to resist, Janet dutifully plodded after the fox as she was led out of the tent for the first time since the day of her capture. Her padded posterior impeding her crawl somewhat, Janet blinked several times as the brightness of the sunshine streaming from above assaulted her sensitive irises. Around her, the cacophony of the crowd of fox villagers that had gathered to see her was almost too much for her ears to bear. Chitters, cries, howls of laughter, and a hubbub of conversation burst forth as she was put on display for all to see. Janet was not given a chance to fully take in the scene before her, which she would have marveled at had she still had her wits about her. She felt more like bursting into tears than admiring the rare sight of so many anthropomorphic foxes in their natural habitat. Sniveling, she continued to crawl after the matriarch that occasionally gave the leash an occasional tug, firm but not too forceful, to encourage her onwards through the crowd. The foxes parted around her, occasionally reaching out to touch Janet’s long hair or pat her affectionately on the diaper, before darting back and descending into a volley of giggles and excited babble. The young woman was reaching her limit of tolerance as she felt her senses becoming overstimulated. Just then, the party stopped suddenly and Janet looked up into the amber eyes of a female fox standing purposefully in front of her. Her naked breasts, voluptuous and larger than any of those she had seen on the other foxes, were exposed to the elements. Their nipples glistened in the sunshine, causing Janet’s salivary glands to begin to shift into overdrive as her stomach rumbled in anticipation. Janet’s mind was little more than infantile urges at this point; she yearned to wrap her lips around one of the nipples and suckle their tantalizingly sweet milk out. Little did she know that the vixen in front of her had been responsible for filling up all of the bottles of milk she had ingested over the past few weeks as her sole source of nutrition. The vixen kneeled in front of Janet, her eyes warm and inviting as she spread her arms out as if to embrace the young woman. She stood about a head taller than the majority of the foxes, her form larger and better filled out. Her hunger getting the better of her, Janet crawled forward as the matriarch’s grip on her leash grew slack to allow her to press forward. Moving into the vixen’s lap, Janet quickly forgot about the throng of foxes around her who all watched with eager fascination as her lips connected with the vixen’s waiting nipple. She suckled, her lips moving and forming incoherent words as she latched onto the vixen’s prominent bosom and began to suckle in earnest. The vixen’s soft paws moved through her hair, caressing her as she chittered gently while she allowed Janet to nurse. Reaching around with one paw, she patted the bottom of Janet’s diaper affectionately much to the delight of the witnessing foxes. The forest seemed alive with their commentary, giggling and laughing at the spectacle of the grown woman reduced to nothing more than a suckling babe to serve as their afternoon source of entertainment. The humiliation of the situation was completely lost upon Janet, whose eyes were now closed as all she could properly concentrate on was quelling her hunger with the creamy ambrosia that came from the female vixen’s ruby nipples. For a good ten minutes she fed, the milk dribbling out of the corner of her awkward lips only to be wiped away by one of the vixen’s fox attendees. At last, Janet felt like she had had her fill. Detaching herself from the vixen, she belched so loudly that it startled her. She looked up at the vixen with wide, innocent eyes as a rivulet of drool escaped the corner of her mouth. With a paw, the vixen wiped at her mouth with one of her paws and crooned softly into her ear, praising her in her strange tongue for doing so well at filling herself up with her milk. The vixen stood up, gently shifting Janet off of her lap who slid off and resumed her stance on all fours. The young woman felt sated, having grown used to the bright sunshine pelting down on her skin and the tumult of noise around her. A full stomach had helped ease her initial feelings of anxiety, although a new, albeit familiar sensation accompanied the sensation of fullness in her tummy. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her left leg slightly for better leverage as she heaved a sigh of contentment. Visible to the part of the crowd to her left, the foxes gaped and watched in astonishment as she relieved herself with no visible sense of self-consciousness into the front of her padding. Barely audible over the ambient sounds of the forest and the many howls and yips that came from the foxes, a muffled hissing noise could be heard from inside of Janet’s padding. As Janet finished, the front of her padding now sagging beneath her and slightly yellowed from her deposit, the foxes erupted in a delightful orchestra of amusement. Teeth flashed and eyes sparkled as the indigenous anthropomorphs delighted in the spectacle Janet was giving them. When the mirth of the crowd subsided somewhat, the matriarch snapped her paw pads together and pointed at one of the foxes that composed her entourage. Obediently, the fox unshouldered the satchel he had been carrying on his back and rifled through its contents, bringing out the necessary supplies for a diaper change. Janet, who had now turned her attention to staring with wide eyes at the throng of foxes, sat down on her now thoroughly soaked diaper as her thumb made its way into her mouth. Staring dumbly out at the crowd, she was gently coaxed by prodding pawpads and soft encouragement until she was laying flat on her back, her legs kicking softly in the air above her. Now familiar with this position, as her diaper had been changed many times before by the caring paws of the foxes, she continued to contentedly suckle her thumb as they tended to her. Not a single remnant of her former self remained, as she had drunk from the vixen’s very breast. With this final act of infantilized subservience, the young anthropologist had sealed her fate. She gurgled contentedly, shivering slightly as a moistened towelette caressed her skin while she was wiped down by the attending fox. Too occupied with the pleasant sensation of the sunshine above her on her sensitive skin, and the wonderful feeling of a full tummy, Janet allowed herself to be changed in front of the entire village. And so, to this day, does she remain there. Lovingly taken care of and continuously put on display for the amusement of her captors whenever the whim strikes them. Janet Parker, anthropomorphologist, permanent resident of the Isle of Foxes, and needing no less than three diaper changes a day.

Part Three “Rattled” Janet stirred as the first sensation that came to her attention was the fact that her eyes felt exceptionally crusted over. Her brow furrowing, groaning as she lethargically made to move her hand up to her face to clear the corner of her eyes from the sandman’s visit the previous evening. Her arm would not move. She tugged again, this time feeling something firmly pulling back on her straining that was wrapped around her wrist. It was only after she opened her eyes, blinking the previous night’s sleep out, that the memories of the past day’s capture came flooding back. Why am I not as alarmed as I feel I should be..? She thought to herself, her mind feeling uncannily muggy for having slept as long as she did. It was as if she had woken up hungover after an evening’s jubilation with just one or two many drinks, but without the throbbing headache. Glancing around the hut, Janet noted that the foxes appeared to have cleared out to let her be shortly after she had fallen asleep. The remnants of the roaring fire she had witnessed the foxes pouring strange, colorful powders into appeared as a still, delicate pile of ash amidst the circle of rocks it was contained in. As she felt a yawn building up, she stretched her limbs out pulling slightly against the bonds that kept her spread eagle in the hanging net. She felt stiff, having been bound to the same position for several hours now. Sniffing once, she grimaced as she realized that she may have been lying prone for much longer than she originally estimated. I could really use a soak… She had originally planned to do most of her bathing in the ocean, the salty, chilly baths would have undoubtedly left her skin feeling soft and smooth. No such luck, as within twenty-four hours of her arrival at the island she had only succeeded in getting herself captured. “Huh…” Janet cleared her throat, still not fully recovered from her lengthy slumber. “Mhmm! Uhm, hello?” Raising her voice, Janet’s eyes were intently staring at the entrance flap to her grass-roofed abode as she waited for a response. At first there was nothing, only the muffled sound of leaves rustling from outside of the tent. And then she heard it, the distinct chittering language of the anthropomorphic foxes drawing nearer to her. Unsure of what she should expect, Janet’s eyes widened with recognition as the same motherly fox that had fed her the previous day poked her head inside of the tent. The fox’s eyes appeared to squint, which Janet realized was likely a pleasant facial expression. “Chri-at!” She exclaimed, her maw opening to briefly flash neat rows of canine teeth before she retreated from the entrance. Figuring that she had just been given a greeting, Janet mentally replayed the phrase the fox had spoken as she waited for her to come back. I guess she’s been assigned to take care of me? Despite the fogginess in her head, Janet was slowly getting over the initial shock of how starkly alien the anthropomorphic foxes appeared and was beginning to observe patterns in their behavior. They appeared to possess similar facial movement mannerisms as in humans, as far as she could tell. Additionally, relying on the tonal fluctuations in their voice gave her somewhat of an insight on what they were feeling when they spoke. At least, she knew when they were clearly amused by her appearance. Before she was given too long to ruminate over the behavior of the foxes thus far, her mind try as she might was having trouble stringing coherent thoughts together, the motherly fox returned. Janet saw that she was holding the same bottle from the previous evening’s feeding, and to her surprise her stomach growled as if in appreciation of the sight. I guess I’m hungry… She thought to herself, feeling slightly detached from her body’s needs as she watched the female fox approach her. The vulpine looked just about ready to shove the bottle into her mouth as she had done the previous evening until her nose wrinkled. Her top teeth bared, she leaned in and gave the young woman a thorough sniff. “Bleh!” Sticking her tongue out, the vulpine raised her chin up and gave the bound woman an appraising look. She mumbled something unintelligible, before turning tail and waltzing out of the large hut. Janet felt slightly let down that the promise of breakfast had been postponed, and wondered if she really did smell that intolerable. Her nose must be far more keen than mine… She thought to herself, curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned her head down and sniffed experimentally at one of her armpits. Sure, she was not exactly giving off the scent of rose petals but it also was not the end of the world. A moment later, the vulpine returned once more, this time with two younger females in tow. Janet’s eyes bulged as she saw that the motherly fox’s two cronies appeared to be armed with various scissors, one of which had the distinct bright pastel red of child-safety scissors. “Brish!” The motherly fox said pointedly, beckoning with a fuzzy paw at Janet’s garments with a limp, dismissive wrist. Before she was able to so much as pull away, the two foxes were making quick work of her clothes and reducing her rather expensive adventuring outfit into ribbons and shreds. “Hey! Those weren’t cheap ya know!” She strained, trying to pull away from them but was unable to get much distance due to the bonds still keeping her spread eagle. She was beginning to feel a little sore. The two foxes only laughed at her squirming, chittering away as within a minute she was left stark naked save for the rope around her wrists and ankles. Utterly exposed, Janet felt herself grow a bit red in the face as she felt their eyes scanning her naked torso with no subtle curiosity. Behind the admiring foxes, sunlight poured into the hut briefly as another pair of foxes joined the watch party carrying a large wooden bowl and several large, brightly colored sponges. Wordlessly, they set the items down on the ground next to Janet’s makeshift crib before departing, glancing over their furry shoulders at her. Setting aside their scissors, the two foxes that had utterly ruined her wardrobe moved aside as the motherly fox stepped forward and dipped one of the sponges into the bowl of water. “Vreena.” She quipped, as with a great amount of care she began trailed the sponge across Janet’s right arm. To Janet’s surprise, the water was pleasantly warm. She felt the dried sweat she had built up after trekking through the jungle the previous evening dissolve and wash off of her. Her eyes fluttered, the sensation of the warm water wicking away all the dirt and feeling luxurious after the previous day’s hard work. Oh… I needed this… Momentarily setting her embarrassment at being stark naked aside, Janet allowed herself to relax as the warmth radiated through her muscles. Rough paw pads scraped gently against her sensitive skin, combined with the fur around them as the motherly fox cooed over her, gently stroking her arms and caressing her cheek throughout the sponge bath she was administering. The careful, almost loving attention Janet was receiving seemed to unlock a whole new level of relaxation. She thought about how much she would have paid for a fox to give her a slow, deliberate sponge bath had she had such an opportunity. Maybe less tying me up and more soap in the water next time… Perhaps it was the smoke she had inhaled last night, maybe it was the effect of the warm water that now dripped off of her body and onto the straw on the floor below, or maybe it was just the fact that last night’s bottle had managed to make its way through her. Regardless, Janet found that she was feeling a little bit more relaxed than she actually realized. Her eyes were closed reveling in the pleasantness, which was why it took her a moment to realize what was happening. It was already too late, her eyes shot open as she comprehended that she was openly relieving herself in front of an enraptured audience. Her cheeks flushed bright scarlet as she stammered momentarily, unsure of what to do as the steady trickle trailed off into a few choice droplets. The foxes broke out into laughter, the chittering reaching a maximum level of volume as they showed their clear amusement at what she had just done. For some reason she felt slightly ashamed, unsure of what to do or say. The sponge bath that she had been so immensely enjoying had been interrupted by her bladder and she had not even felt the need to relieve herself! But what else was she supposed to do? Trapped and unable to move around she would have ultimately had no choice in the matter regardless. Still, being seen helplessly peeing herself by the very foxes she had dreamed about studying as a kid caused her to feel just a little overwhelmed by it all. Nodding towards one of her attendees, her eyes still filled with mirth, the motherly fox exchanged a few words before the giggles took over once more. As the fox she had spoken to departed, her shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed giggles, the matron fox managed to compose herself enough to carry on with the bathing. Still feeling incredibly sheepish, Janet was unable to relax herself to the extent she had before for fear that she might repeat the same mistake. Even as the sponge bath reached its conclusion, a slight shiver setting in that caused goose flesh to course up Janet’s arms, she was unable to fully understand what the fox that strode into the tent shortly after was carrying in her arms. Janet stared at the soft, baby blue cylinder-shaped container and rectangular plastic pillow the fox held one in each paw, standing dutifully behind the motherly fox and waiting for her to conclude her bathing ritual. Several other foxes entered the tent as well, appearing smaller than the others present in the tent. Had Janet not been heavily distracted by the motherly fox unraveling the crinkly item before her, she would have guessed they were juvenile in age. As a few of the new occupants of the tent busied themselves with reviving the fire from the previous evening, piling various sticks and dried vines into a neat, organized pile in the middle of the stones, Janet finally realized what the foxes planned to do with her. Having accepted that the foxes had picked up a regular habit of acquiring and stashing as many human inventions as they could get their paws on, she still marveled at the fact that they had somehow managed to acquire adult incontinence products. Incontinence products, now intended to be used on her. “Shri-vat! Nana…” The matron chittered, her voice low and calming even as she cast her gaze down meaningfully at Janet’s still fully nude nether regions. There was no use to even attempt to protest, the young woman watched helplessly as her privates were doused in a generous application of powder. The scent made its way up to her nostrils, causing an odd sense of nostalgia to wash over her. She grimaced, surprised and unsure how to react. Her cheeks burned as the soft paws of the motherly fox brushed against her sensitive thighs, indicating with a light prod that she should raise her hips. Unwilling, Janet glanced over to the young foxes who had busied themselves with relighting the fire and saw that one of them was attempting to strike a piece of shiny metal against a darkened rock. Distracted by the primitive technology for the moment, her attention span somewhat stymied by the previous evening’s fire, she only realized that the last tape had been placed snugly into place around her waist after the motherly fox exclaimed in a satisfied tone of voice. “Vra!” Her ears flipped backwards towards the entrance of the tent, twitching for a moment before an intent, excited expression came over her muzzle. “Dar-lah! Fex-ihre-nen… Nen!” Clapping her paw pads together, she motioned with her paws for the sponge bath assistants to exit. Stepping over to the juveniles struggling to light the fire, she whisked the flint and steel out of their paws and with an experienced flick of the wrist shed a shower of sparks onto the kindling which managed to catch. “Nen!” Motioning with her paws, she shooed the last of the young foxes out of the tent. Just in time as well, only a few seconds after the last of the orange tails disappeared behind the flap of the tent, it opened up as if blown through by a mighty gust of wind. Janet gaped. Standing in the entrance with two foxes covered with various patterns of paint on their faces and torsos stood the most regal fox she had seen yet. A majestic crown of feathers, flower petals, and various bird bones and canine teeth strung together into a rippling pattern resembling that of crashing waves graced the noble head of a pristine female fox. Other than the makeup surrounding her eyes and eyelashes much longer than on any other of the foxes Janet had observed, this figure stood completely nude save for the adornment on her head. She strode forward, nodding once to the matron who bowed graciously, her paws clasped in front of her with a reverently lowered gaze. As the fox matriarch’s attention wandered over to Janet, the matron busied herself with dousing the now growing fire with the same mysterious powder from the night before. Her entourage standing dutifully on either side of the entrance, the noble fox stepped lightly until she was looming over the incapacitated human. Her gaze wandered down the entire length of her body, keen, intelligent eyes surveying her as if she were a prized unit of livestock under her jurisdiction. Janet felt herself growing rather uncomfortable being scrutinized with the intensity that seemed to pour out of the feathered fox. Without warning, the matriarch reached forward and gently cupped one of Janet’s breasts. Unable to pull away, Janet found herself growing slightly aroused at the delicate touch the fox possessed. She felt her piece being fondled lightly, an exposed claw protruding from one of her paw pads drawing a circle around her left nipple that caused her to shiver in a mixture of pleasure and trepidation. The matriarch’s gaze wandered downwards, now onto the freshly applied diaper that hugged the young woman’s waist. She groped the front between a paw, Janet feeling the soft, absorbent material stimulating her nether regions in a surprisingly pleasant fashion, despite herself. The paw wandered downwards, until she was squeezing Janet’s buttocks through the thick padding. Seeming to approve of the choice piece of underwear, the matriarch reached behind her and snapped her paw pads twice. A moment later, one of her attendees handed her what appeared to be a long, wooden staff equipped with a menagerie of bits, bobs, and ornaments; a combination of both human artifacts and primitive decor adorning the staff. Most notably, and audibly, Janet’s eyes were immediately drawn on the brightly colored baby rattle affixed to the tip of the staff. Following her gaze, the matriarch lowered the staff until the rattle dangled just a few inches above Janet’s face. She shook the staff, rattling the contents of the toy and watching closely to see what the woman’s reaction would be. The smoke was now beginning to rise up in the fire in hot, visible plums of purple smoke. The air became filled with the soft scent of lilac and rosemary, lulling the captured anthropologist into the now familiar foggy state of mind. Seeing that the rattle appeared to do little to stimulate her prisoner, the matriarch plucked another choice trinket from her staff of many items and held it in front of Janet’s nose. Forced to cross her eyes to properly see the object, eliciting a smirk across the female chief’s muzzle, the young woman saw that she was being offered a teething ring much like a toddler might use when sprouting its first pearly whites. They’re… Performing tests… On me…? Regardless of the intoxicating smoke dulling her senses, the irony of what was happening to her was not lost on the young researcher. She had come to the island planning on performing various tests on its inhabitants, and now she was their subject of interest whether she liked it or not. She felt the cool plastic of the ring press against her mouth, and unable to offer much of a struggle, she was eventually persuaded to part her lips and accept the infantile device. This appeared to please the matriarch, who beckoned for the matron to step forward without taking her eyes off of Janet’s slow, methodical chewing. The two exchanged a few words, the matriarch speaking excitedly and motioning towards Janet’s diaper twice as she spoke to the matron. The motherly fox said nothing, merely listening and nodding, adding to the slowly-built repertoire Janet possessed of the fox’s body language. It would do little good in the long run, she mused to herself still chewing, as she was finding it quite difficult to divide her attention between the chewing ring and the interaction occurring in front of her. Janet barely registered the fact that the matriarch departed several minutes later, leaving her only in the company of the matron and the steadily crackling fire a ways to her left. Time seemed to dilate, cramming long spans of time into a few episodic moments of relative clarity. She was aware that the motherly fox was offering her the calf’s milk bottle, and that she had dutifully accepted the beverage. The taste of cinnamon mixed with a slight peppery flavor graced her tongue, and before she knew it she was sucking on air having drunk the entire contents of the bottle. She felt content, listening to the soft murmurings of the female fox as Janet’s eyelids grew heavy. The young woman was faintly aware of the net she was bound to being rocked back and forth, lulling her down into a deep, profound slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet awoke a few hours later, barely registering consciousness let alone what time it was as she had only stirred due to the growing pressure in her bladder. The fumes had rendered her mind barely able to understand where she was, all Janet knew was that the discomfort of a bloated bladder would not allow her to delve back into a much desired sleep. She had tried to get up to relieve herself, forgetting once more that she was still splayed out as if caught in a sticky spider’s web. After her limbs refused to obey her, Janet grew impatient and simply let go. It was only halfway through the deed did she remember the choice piece of underwear she had been clad in. Something told her that she should feel embarrassed, helplessly soaking her diaper as if she were no more than a two-year-old unable to escape its crib. Despite this thought calling out somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she could not be bothered. The warmth of her accident coupled with the relief that came with no longer needing to desperately void herself was more than enough to coax her back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part Two "Foxes" Janet stared at the fox in front of her, her breath catching in her throat as she beheld one of the persons of legend with her very own eyes. Although rather stout compared to the average height of a human being, the fox’s form appeared as athletic and wiry as their feral cousins. The poise with which the being balanced on its digitigrade feet appeared to give it a superb sense of balance, as the creature had no trouble delicately standing on the branch which Janet clung to with all four limbs as she traversed it. Turning, the fox called something over its shoulder while keeping its bright, golden eyes fixed unwaveringly on the intruder to its home island. Its chittery language warbled softly off its tongue, and Janet could not help but watch its tongue deftly flick and twist in its muzzle as it pronounced each syllable of its dialect with uncanny dexterity. Behind the fox, peering between branches and poking their noses out of clumps of leaves, half a dozen similar creatures appeared around her. She gasped, glancing from one to another as she realized they must have been hiding out there the entire time before she had ascended the tree. They’re so stealthy! Janet thought to herself, noting and admiring the various differences between the orange furred creatures. A combination of bead necklaces, various small bones, and a few small pieces of cloth tied around their necks and serving as small, colorful cloaks were the only garments the otherwise naked creatures wore. Glancing down at the fox in front of her, she nodded that judging by the lack of any visible genitalia poking out from the tufts of fur in its groin that it was likely a female. The fox noted where Janet’s gaze had wandered, and she barked sharply at her. “Djen!” Janet blinked, and then grew rosy in the face as she realized that she might have just done something quite rude. Clutched in the anthropomorphic fox’s left paw was a roughly carved wooden staff with small, rounded iron balls attached at the ends. They can smelt metal?! Indeed, it appeared to be true. Some of the beads hanging off the necklace of the fox in front of her looked to her like they were made of bronze. However the creatures had managed it, they had been able to discover deposits of metal on their island and take advantage of it accordingly. They’re much more advanced than I originally anticipated! Janet thought with excitement. Still unsure of what the foxes intentions were, she slowly drew out the camera from her bag and lifted it up in front of her. The fox eyed her warily, the other foxes surrounding her seemed to shift about in the foliage as if preparing themselves to spring into action at any given moment. “It’s okay… I’m just… Going to take… A picture of you…” Janet’s tone was low and reassuring, taking great care to keep her facial expression as neutral as possible. She would have wanted to smile at them, as she practically overjoyed at finally being able to encounter the creatures she had dreamed about studying since she was a child. The explorer was, however, unsure how such a species would react to a much larger creature showing up to their peaceful island home and baring its teeth at them. Janet raised the camera up and pointed the lens at the fox in front of her. The fox’s whiskers twitched, her head leaning back slightly as she raised her chin up at the camera suspiciously. Janet’s finger moved over the shutter release button, pressing down on it with a click. The fox’s eyes widened and she jumped backwards in surprise as the flash momentarily blinded her, having been fully unexpected to see such a bright light emanate from the small metal object in front of her. The other foxes began to chitter excitedly, yipping and yelping, as several more of them landed deftly on the branch Janet was kneeling on and crossing the distance between her and the fox she had captured a photo of in seconds. In a flurry of fluffy tails, sooty paws, and flying whiskers the foxes were on her. “Hey! Ow! Hold on just a minu- Mmpf!” Janet’s exclamations were abruptly cut short as she tasted a musky cloth that had just been crammed into her mouth and was being tied behind her head with agile paws. She tried to resist, but was unsure how to defend herself. They were just too quick, leaping and dancing around her as they wove long strands of leafy ropes around her upper body. Before she could try and untangle herself from the mess of vines, she felt them pull tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. She wobbled precariously, her cries muffled by the gag as she tottered unsteadily on the branch now unable to fling her arms out and catch herself. Her eyes widened in fear as she teetered close to the edge of the branch, glancing around herself at the various foxes whose cries and jeers filled her ears in an endless, nonsensical cacophony of a tribe of anthropomorphic primitives that had just successfully captured a prisoner. Janet felt something round poke her just underneath her ribs somewhat painfully. She recoiled from the strike, glancing down to see that one of the rounded ends of the staff of the female fox had just been jabbed into her side. The young woman could feel herself losing her balance, and as her stomach flipped she screamed as loudly as the gag in her mouth would allow her. Just as suddenly as she started plummeting down towards the earth, she felt something tug sharply at the back of her bonds and she instead swung underneath the branch like a child on a tire swing. “MMMMMMMM!” Her legs flailing underneath, she continued to swing back and forth as the jungle twirled around her in a circle. Disoriented, it was only after her head stopped spinning did she realize that she was being gently lowered down to the jungle floor where an even larger group of foxes had gathered to watch her undignified descent. They whispered among themselves, their tone having shifted from fearful and suspicious to outright amusement. Having overwhelmed the strange, pale intruder so quickly they were now cackling amongst themselves and pointing out her, undoubtedly remarking on the strangeness of her appearance and distinct lack of fur. Janet watched in silent fascination mixed with panic as she noted several significantly smaller foxes clinging to what she presumed were their parents. Several of the kits, undaunted, were running around just beneath her feet laughing and tossing small amounts of dirt in the air at her before they were shooed away by a disapproving looking elder. Their offspring having been removed with a few barks and firm paw gestures, several foxes with various markings decorated the fur on their faces waited down below for Janet. As soon as her boots brushed against the loosely tossed dirt beneath her they assailed her, wrapping her legs up in the same bonds that held her arms fastly to her sides before they looped a robust looking stick through the bonds above her ankles and just above her lowered back. Janet had her face in the dirt throughout the entire ordeal, grunting and doing her best to struggle against their attempts to subdue her but to no use. They were simply too quick, too agile, too frisky and dexterous in their fluid-like movements. Working together, they had her utterly incapacitated in a matter of seconds. It was not a matter of strength, but of unfathomable nimbleness that she could simply not hope to match. As they hoisted her into the air, which took four of the burliest looking foxes she had seen so far, Janet glanced around as she continued to attempt to vocalize behind the gag, keeping her complaints unintelligible. “Mmpf! Mmm! Mmmpf! Hmmph!” All she could do was take in her surroundings, her sights moving from the sea of wriggling foxes darting this way and that in order to get a better look at her to the vast swathes of what appeared to be human garbage strewn about their campsite. Except it was not garbage, as the majority of the artifacts she noticed had been put back together, cleaned, or even outright repaired to appear good as new. It was only in the randomness of the array of items that it appeared to be nothing more than a collection of refuse in the midst of primitive fire pits, tool sheds, and a starkly fashionable array of wooden furniture with masterfully intricate carvings. As Janet swung gently to the left and to the right from the jostling of the foxes that escorted her deeper into their camp, her eyes narrowed as she noticed a distinct pattern among the array of refuse. The majority of the treasures appeared to be plastic baby toys, plastic bowls and spoons, several stuffed animals some of which appeared to have been well loved by their previous owners, and even a few rattles and pacifiers. Before Janet was able to distinguish anything else from the menagerie of human artifacts the foxes appeared to be hoarding, her vision was suddenly plunged into darkness as the foxes had just entered one of the more sizable tents in their encampments. She blinked several times, adjusting her vision to the dimly lit conditions after the bright sunshine of the late morning sun. Janet twisted her head to the side to avoid having her face squished flat as the foxes laid her down onto the ground, the straw flooring poking at her uncomfortably. She waited as she felt the foxes fiddled with the bonds that had her tied up like a Christmas present. Unaware of what was happening to her, and now doing her best to fight off a sneeze from whatever allergens had crept into her nose from her awkward descent to the hut’s floor, she was surprised when she felt her wrists and ankles being jolted upwards. Her cry of surprise still muffled, she glanced around herself in a panic as she was flipped over and lifted up into the air. She just managed to free an arm from the grasp of one of the foxes when she was deposited onto a springy net. Bouncing up a few times, her wrists and ankles were swiftly tied to the net keeping her spread eagle. The foxes continued to chitter in hushed tones now, their volume having changed as soon as they had entered the hut. As Janet’s eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior of the building, she wondered if the tone of reverence she was detecting in their lowered voices could be correctly interpreted as such. On either side of her, several large wooden bars were lowered down into place. The wooden beams reached all the way up to the hay ceiling above, enclosing her fully inside of a makeshift cage. Squinting, she frowned as she noted that had she not been strapped to the net, it would have appeared for all intents and purposes that she was now residing in an oversized crib. As the barriers of her new cage were set into place, she watched as the foxes slipped out of the tent before she was able to muster so much as a moan of frustration. “Mmpf!” She cried after them, watching as the sunlight that escaped into the large hut disappeared once more as the entrance flap dropped back into place. Janet did not have to wait long though, as a minute later the fox wielding the wooden staff she had first seen earlier entered into the tent. She appeared much calmer now, and Janet concluded that she must be some kind of leader to the local fox population. The anthropomorphic fox seemed to carry herself with a poise and dignity that was much more reserved than the relative friskiness of others of her kind Janet had seen. Even in the excitement of being taken hostage by the primitive foxes, the anthropologist could not help but marvel at the magnificent regality of such visibly intelligent creatures. “Git!” The fox barked, her eyes boring holes into Janet’s own widened, innocent peepers. The young woman glanced down to see that the fox appeared to be holding what looked like a bone knife in her right paw. Drawing nearer, Janet began to struggle and writhe against her bonds as the fox approached her with the weapon. “Nah!” To her great surprise, the fox swatted her exposed arm in annoyance. Momentarily stunned by the casual irritation in the fox’s expression, Janet stopped her wriggling just long enough for the fox to reach forward with the knife and deftly cut through the cloth around Janet’s mouth. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, Janet immediately began to blubber out a half-baked explanation. “I wasn’t trying to do anything! I swear! I'm just here to study you! You have so much stuff that we made! Where did you… That doesn’t matter, look if you could just let me-” “Terra nuit?” “What..?” “Teh… Rah… Nuh… Eet? Janet stared at the fox blankly, unable to even guess what the fox was asking. Without the use of her hands and with the added barrier of not being able to understand each other's facial expressions, Janet could only bite her lip unsure of what to do. Appearing visibly exasperated, the fox turned over her shoulder and called out something unintelligible. Three other foxes, dressed in similar cloaks and equipped with dramatic markings on their faces resembling fangs and claws, strode in and gathered around Janet’s makeshift cage. They whispered amongst one another, glancing between Janet and themselves and pointing at various parts of her prone body. Judging from the high-pitch of their comments and interspersed chattering noises, she realized that they were likely making fun of her. Although she could understand why they might have such a reaction, she could not help but feel a little self-conscious at being ridiculed. Janet blushed a deep crimson, turning away and closing her eyes as she tried to think of what to do next. Okay Janet… They clearly don’t understand a thing you say and probably thought you were some kind of threat to begin with… Still, if you cooperate, maybe they’ll reconsider and let you go. After all, they probably won’t understand how half the stuff in your bag works anyway… After a minute, the chittering stopped abruptly. Janet opened her eyes a moment later only to just be able to catch a tail disappearing behind the flap entrance. “Hey! Wait a minute!” She called after them, but it was to no avail. As several beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, she concluded that they were likely heading off to discuss what they were going to do with her. Janet grimaced, taking a moment to relax her tensed muscles as she tried once more to calm down the welling sense of doom that was forming a knot in her stomach. If they were going to hurt you… They could have done it already… She thought, trying her best not to think of the various practices that isolated, barbaric tribes such as these had historically entertained in the world of indigenous human beings. ⤐ ⬷ After a few hours of worrying and testing the strength in her bonds, a fox on the plumper end of the spectrum had bustled her way noisily into the hut equipped with a bowl filled with a dark brown gruel. Despite her dire situation, Janet’s stomach growled at the thought of food. It had to be way past lunch time, and the slow, arduous trek through the jungle had worked up her appetite. “Jira!” The fox waved cheerfully at Janet, pulling down on a hanging vine and raising up one of the hanging bars of her cage. Behind her, another female fox entered behind her and stood primarily next to the first fox. Their muzzles were just open enough to bare their front teeth at her, which Janet presumed to be a cheerful expression. The second fox leaned in and whispered something in the first fox’s ear, causing the two to descend into a fit of giggles before they returned their attention to Janet. Scooping up a small bit of the unknown substance in the bowl, the fox offered it politely just in front of Janet’s face. She eyed it suspiciously, her gaze flitting between the proffered morsel and the chubby fox’s face. She seems harmless enough… And she’s not forcing me to eat it… I guess they’re just trying to feed me while they figure out what to do with me… Slowly, she opened her mouth and maintaining eye contact with the motherly looking fox, accepted the spoonful of gruel. To her surprise, the taste was not offensive in the slightest. Although a little bitter, the flavor resembled that of oatmeal seasoned lightly with cinnamon and some other sweet taste that Janet was not quite able to identify. Noting that Janet did not appear to be upset by the spoonful, the young woman found herself struggling to keep up with each eagerly offered spoonful. The second fox joined in with another spoon, giddily scooping the strange oatmeal into her mouth so quickly that she was hardly able to keep up. To her annoyance, she found that not all of it was successfully finding its way into her mouth as the foxes appeared to be having a little bit too much fun feeding her. Giggling as they did so, exchanging comments in their strange tongue that Janet knew far too well were likely at her expense, she found that her chin and the top of her shirt covered in the gruel before long. The motherly fox clucked her tongue, exchanging a few words with her companion who responded with a barking laugh before retreating out of the tent. A moment later, Janet’s eyes bulged as she returned with what appeared to be a white cloth bib. A yellow duckling splashing merrily in a pond that had been embroidered on the front soon found its place hanging around her neck, catching the clumsily offered spoonfuls. Janet swallowed and did her best to chew as much of the food as she could, her gaze drifting over to the entrance as several more foxes entered into the hut. She watched as they laid down firewood in a small circle of stones, several others placing various bowls and cooking utensils around the firepit that appeared to be filled with various powders. Janet was unable to continue to study them as they appeared to prepare for some kind of strange ritual as she was interrupted by something rubbery and round being crammed unceremoniously into her mouth. “Mmpf!” Janet’s eyes crossed, and as a creamy liquid filled her mouth cavity she realized with a start that she was now being fed with a plastic baby bottle. Her eyes bulged, unable to figure out where on earth they had acquired such a sizable bottle before she realized that she was being fed from a calf-sized feeding bottle. The woman’s cheeks burned from the embarrassment, her mind reeling as she wondered whether they were trying to fatten her up or not. As she continued to dutifully nurse, as the option to refuse was apparently not available to her, the female foxes continued to chirp and coo above her, clearly greatly entertained by the activity. Janet felt her stomach beginning to engorge itself with a milk the origin of which she was completely unaware of. The fire had now been lit, and Janet was able to see out of the corner of her eye that the powders were now being poured from their bowls onto the crackling flame. As the grains fell onto the fire, it roared upwards and turned a vibrant, iridescent purple. The hut became filled with a pungent smoke, the odor of which was not unpleasant but whose thickness caused her eyes to water at first. Janet’s eyelids drooped, a thin line of milk drooling out from the corner of her mouth as each consecutive suckle at the bottle’s teat seemed to become increasingly arduous for her. The last thing Janet remembered before she descended into a deep slumber was the sensation of a damp washcloth being gently dabbed at the corners of her mouth by the giggling fox looming above her.

🦊 Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.

Chapter V. It had been a few weeks now since the initial arrival at Matilda’s doorstep. If anybody were there to witness what she looked like now as compared to back then, they would have said they were two completely different people. Annie had now acquired a fair amount of baby fat. She hadn’t gotten to the point of being chubby or pudgy, but she certainly appeared a little bit more well-rounded than the scrawny, bony girl that had been caught blacked out on the road so long ago. Matilda had spared no expense in ensuring that her little girl received very yummy things for her meals, indulging her with sweets and baked goods that Matilda made for her every day. The only time when it didn’t seem like Annie was sampling her motherly bear’s baking was when she was told to spread out the crumbly cookies and treats in the back garden, where the two would watch the birds, rabbits, squirrels, and other forest creatures hop up and nibble on the treats. In addition to her change in physical appearance, her demeanor was now nothing like the punk, rebellious, and toxic personality of her former self. She cooed with delight at anything sparkly or colorful, getting excited and happy when she saw her favorite mother bear in the world, Matilda. Annie had gotten to the point where not only did she use her diapers, she needed them desperately as she would often be found tinkling softly into the front of her diapers, wetting almost within minutes of having been changed into soft, fresh ones. In addition to having absolutely no bladder control, she had also developed a habit of leaving ‘little stinky presents’ as Matilda affectionately referred to them in the seat of her diapers several times a day. There was no trace of potty training or nastiness left in the girl, Matilda was incredibly proud that her little magically hypnotized subject had been successfully rehabilitated. Annie was a sweet, adorable oversized toddler whose interests no longer seemed to be around getting trashed and sleeping with strangers. She was more interested in making sure all of her stuffed animals received their good night kisses, that she eats up all of the yummy food Matilda made as she was fed in her highchair, and that she makes sure to be a good little girl and listen to all the things her caretaker told her. “Today’s your big day sweetie pie!” Matilda exclaimed as she finished wiping her charge’s bottom, and unfolded a fresh pink diaper underneath her. “We’re going to take you back to your Mommy and Daddy!” Annie giggled and cooed, kicking her legs gently in excitement as she suckled energetically on her binky, a teddy bear held firmly underneath one of her arms. “We’re going to have to put you in your Sunday best now dearest! We have got to make sure your Mommy and Daddy know just how much of a well-behaved little girl you are now, no?” “Yuh-huh!” Annie agreed with Matilda cheerfully, the pacifier in her mouth causing her speech to come out with a slight lisp as she beamed up at her motherly bear, excited to have an opportunity to get out of the house for the first time since she had arrived. Matilda had already begun gently guiding her charge’s arms through the pink ruffled sleeves, the dress she had picked out was almost entirely pink with little white highlights in addition to ankle socks, and Mary Jane shoes. Her bottom still crinkling clearly even through the dress, she kicked her legs happily as she sat on the edge of the changing table, a small wet spot already forming on the front of her diapers unbeknownst to her as she patiently sat while Matilda ran a comb through her hair. “You’re going to be the prettiest little girl on your block, I’m willing to bet! And the most well behaved, of course!” At the last comment, she tickled Annie underneath the chin with her paw affectionately, eliciting a fit of girlish giggles from her charge. Seemingly satisfied with her appearance, Matilda slipped a paw pad underneath the front of the girl’s diaper, checking the level of dampness. “Looks like you’re only a little wet, your diaper can probably hold a little bit more before you’ll have to be changed. I’ll just change you at your Mommy and Daddy’s house! Won’t they be proud of their little girl using her diapers like a good baby!” Annie clapped her hands together in excitement, the idea of her seeing her parents again making her feel ecstatic. Matilda gently guided the girl back onto her feet, who stood obediently by the changing table, nuk-nuking on her pacifier as Matilda walked over to her crib, gently picking up Mrs. Hyena and bringing her over to the girl. “We can’t forget Mrs. Hyena now can we? We need her to make sure that little girls like you get a full night’s sleep!” Annie accepted the stuffed animal with open arms, hugging the beloved stuffie close to her breast, leaving the teddy bear resting atop the changing table. Matilda extended a large paw, and Annie accepted it as Matilda guided her out of the nursery, a large diaper bag she had packed the previous evening full of goodies, diapers, and clothes for her charge the previous evening slung over her shoulder. The two exited Matilda’s abode a few minutes later, and began on their walk through the forest towards the local town. It had rained the previous evening, the forest air filled Matilda’s and Annie’s lungs with a fresh scent, causing Annie to skip happily next to her bear spirit caretaker as she continued to hold onto her hand, feeling happy and carefree in Matilda’s care. A few minutes later the sidewalk to the town began, and Matilda took Annie’s wallet she found on her so many weeks ago and checked the address on her ID. Suddenly Annie squealed with excitement, jumping up and down and pointing at a comfortable looking blue house down the road. “Dats my house! Dats my house!” Her exclamations of excitement and giddiness caused Matilda to beam, who nodded sagely and patted her little girl on the head. “Very good Annie! You remember what your house looks like! I’m sure Mommy and Daddy will be so happy to see you!” The two approached the house, Annie practically vibrating with excitement as Matilda extended a clawed forepaw, gently pushing the doorbell button. The door opened revealing a middle aged man and woman. Annie’s mother and father’s jaws dropped simultaneously. Standing in front of her was their daughter, who they had thought was missing for weeks on end, dressed in a girly pink dress, Mary Jane shoes, holding a large stuffed animal, and sporting a now slightly sagging, wet diaper. “Mommy! Daddy!” She exclaimed with happiness, and ran forward to hug them both. Still feeling shaken, the two reciprocated, her mother practically sobbing with relief that she had come home. Her father looked up to see if anyone had accompanied their little one, but Matilda was gone without a trace. The only thing left was the large diaper bag filled with all the goodies she had packed. Her father gently removed himself from the group hug, letting Annie give all her physical attention to his wife. He stepped forward, and opened the front pocket of the large duffle bag. Inside of it was a note which read. Annie is home. With love, Matilda.

Chapter IV. Matilda, still holding onto Annie with one arm, unslid the trey from the highchair as Annie while suckled on the pacifier still resting against her tongue and lips. “Alright, time to get something yummy into my little girl’s tummy!” Matilda’s speech came out as a rhythmic chant, but her charge barely noticed. Annie found herself occasionally struggling to fully understand what the bear was telling her, but this wasn’t upsetting her as much as she had expected. She seemed to understand that what Matilda was telling her wasn’t something she should worry too much about, and didn’t protest when she found herself being plopped down onto her diapered bottom. The tray was slid back, locking into place with a small click, and Annie placed her hands on top of it, looking expectantly at her caretaker as she suckled on her pacifier. “Now you sit tight honey while I make you some breakfast.” Pans clattered and the stove burst into a lively flame as Annie watched the bear work her magic, cracking eggs and pouring milk into measuring cups while she tossed fruit in a bowl, washing a menagerie of strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries underneath the faucet. Swinging her hips to the tune she hummed under her breath, Matilda worked efficiently as she poured orange juice into a sippy cup, using the other hand to flip the golden colored flapjacks she had seemingly put together out of nothing. Annie watched in awe of Matilda’s comfort in the kitchen, she salivated instinctively and her drool began to gather behind the guard of the pacifier in her mouth, a thin strand of it dropping down onto her naked breasts. Matilda glanced over at her baby, smiling sweetly as she noted that she seemed transfixed by everything she was doing. She had her guest exactly where she wanted her. “Oh dear, looks like somebody’s a little bit more hungry than I anticipated! Let’s get you in a bib so you don’t make so much of a mess.” Turning the flame down to low, she glided back over to the high chair, withdrawing from her front apron pocket a large, pink baby bib. The phrase, “Mommy’s Little Dribbler” was embroidered on the front, but Annie once again remained blissfully unaware of this additional tool designed to further regress her. Reaching around the back of Annie’s neck, Matilda fastened the bib around her neck and leaned back, her face beaming with pride as she admired just how adorable her little charge looked. “I think we’re just about ready to eat! What do you say, little one? Time to put that diaper to good use!” Turning back around, Matilda quickly arranged the pancakes onto a plate, generously adding powdered sugar, syrup, and the mixed berries to the delicious looking spread. She brought the plate over to Annie, gently moving her hands out of the way and placing the plate on top of her tray. “Alright sweetie, let’s get that pacifier out of your mouth now.” Her head following the tugging motion of Matilda gently tugging the pacifier out, Annie found herself being spoon fed small bits and pieces of pancake and sugary berries. With each passing bite of the delicious meal, she felt a small pressure in her stomach growing more and more pressing. As Matilda continued to feed her the pieces of the pancake, adding bits and phrases of encouragement as Annie usually succeeded in getting most of the pancake in her mouth, Annie’s mind became more and more hazy. A few coherent thoughts managed to manifest themselves, like how delicious the syrup coated pancakes tasted, and how friendly and soft her caretaker looked. She allowed Matilda to dab at her mouth with a wet cloth, wiping off the sticky syrup that still managed to be spread all over her front and the bottom half of her face. “What a good little baby, you ate all of your pancakes! Good girl!” Matilda caressed Annie’s cheek, causing Annie to revel in the soft, delicate feeling of the bear’s fur. “Now sit tight honey, Mommy’s going to clean up the kitchen and water the garden flowers.” Pacifier once more placed in her mouth, Annie kicked her legs gently her diaper crinkling softly while she watched Matilda bustle around the kitchen once more, the pans and bowls seemingly washing themselves as she dried her hands on hand towel. She watched the bear pad to the backdoor, which she hadn’t noticed led from the kitchen into what Annie presumed to be the garden, the only portion of which she could see out of the kitchen windows. With a straw hat now adorning her head, Matilda stepped through the door and out of the kitchen, leaving her baby still strapped into the highchair. After a few minutes of contentedly suckling on her pacifier, the pressure in her stomach returned with a greater urgency and she groaned in spite of herself. Something in the back of her head made her feel slightly panicked, as if she shouldn’t be pooping herself sitting in the high chair. She looked down, looking at the large diaper she was still sitting in. She couldn’t quite understand why she shouldn’t be messing herself, seeing how Mommy kept her in diapers. As another wave of cramps hit her, her indecisiveness soon reached closure. With a grunt, Annie leaned forward as her face flushed with red from the effort. With one last wave of cramps, she found herself uncontrollably messing herself straight into the seat of her diapers, the mess spreading out into the front and back of the diaper as her weight redistributed it. A soft hissing noise filled the air as she continued to push and breath heavily, feeling the warmth of the flood slowly forming in the front of her padding radiating against her thighs and bottom. She panted, leaning back once more and sitting fully into the seat of her messy diaper, feeling relieved now that the abdominal pressure had subsided. She shifted around, listening to the crinkling of her diaper as the smell of her mess arrived at her nostrils, causing her to contort her face and sniffle softly. Before she could even think about stopping herself, she cried out. Her voice wavered as it came out slightly muffled from the pacifier in her mouth as she continued to sob, her dissatisfaction with the soiled state of her pants bothering her more than she could handle. Almost instantly the door to the kitchen opened, and Matilda was soon unstrapping her from the highchair, speaking comforting words and phrases as she deposited a small kiss on her baby’s forehead. “Now, now honey, it’s okay. We just need to get you into a nice, clean diaper and you’ll feel all better!” She hoisted Annie once more against her, supporting her from her messy bottom and patting it gently. The party of two went back into the nursery, where Annie found herself in the all too familiar feeling of lying on her back, legs in the air and her dirty diaper on display, ready to be changed into a fresh one. The cool air caressed her skin along with the soft, moist wipes that Matilda seemed to have an endless supply of, and she couldn’t help but gurgle contentedly into her pacifier, feeling relieved that her bottom was being taken care of. “Awww, what a precious thing! Little Annie likes having her diaper changed, hmm? I bet it feels so much better after being stuck in all that muck in your highchair.” Annie gurgled in agreement, her pacifier falling from her lips and onto the side of the changing table. Before she knew it, her right thumb had found its way into her mouth, and she was suckling contentedly on it, her hand soon becoming covered in saliva as Matilda clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Now now little one, good little girls suckle on their pacifiers and not their thumbs. You wouldn’t want to be a naughty baby now, would you sweetie?” After generously powdering her bottom, taking her time in ensuring that it was spread to every nook and cranny, she pulled up the front of the pink diaper and snugly fastened the tapes, rubbing Annie’s tummy with a large, heavy paw as she tenderly replaced the pacifier back between her lips. “Let’s lay you down for a nap now, dearest.” Annie protested, she whined through her pacifier but was promptly ignored by the bear. She wanted to play, she realized, she didn’t even feel tired at all. Her complaints were quickly shushed by Matilda, as the bars to the crib were being lowered and she found Mrs. Hyena being presented to her, which the bear had pulled seemingly out of thin hair. “There we go, lay down now sweetie and cuddle Mrs. Hyena for nap time. Then I’ll let you play a little bit before lunch time.” She raised the bars, and Annie found herself once more sinking into the ridiculously soft mattress. A wave of fatigue suddenly washed over her, something suggested to Matilda that taking a nap seemed to be much more reasonable than she had initially decided. Matilda watched her magic work like a charm, as her baby lay her head down on the mattress of the large crib, her stuffed animal hugged tightly in her embrace while she closed her eyes and fell sound asleep, her pacifier moving in and out slightly as she suckled on it. What a good little baby I have. She exited the nursery, taking great care to shut the door as gently as she could, as to not wake her little Annie.

Chapter 10 Scott padded down after the rabbit down the stairs, each step reminding him of the still warm, mushy contents of his padding. He could feel the absorbent material in his diaper rubbing up against him as with every step the mess in his pants spread further. There was nothing he could do about it. He reached down a paw to the front of his diaper and tried grasping it, but the mittens completely prevented him from getting a hold on anything. As they reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Scott looked around at the stuffed animals still strewn across the floor. The leopard realized that a pressure had slowly been building up in his bladder which he’d ignored for the past few minutes. He crossed his legs and attempted to hold it in. The rabbit immediately picked up on this, and turned around, smiling. “Now there child,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness, “Use your diddies like a good baby.” She took his mittened paws in hers and guiding them away from the front of his diaper she led him over to a large, stuffed teddy bear almost twice the size of Scott. “Teddy, why don’t you help Scott here use his padding like a good baby?” As if shocked by a jolt of electricity the stuffed teddy bear sat up, bent forward and grabbed Scott with its front paws. The leopard’s yells were muffled by his pacifier as the teddy bear drew the leopard into a tight hug, sliding one his giant paws down and beginning to gently rub the leopard’s stomach while applying pressure. At that point, the leopard could no longer hold his own and began to uncontrollably wet his diaper. He felt it expand as the already messy diaper received a new addition. He was surprised by it’s incredible absorbency, his legs were now separated by several inches due to the thick padding. He looked up at the giant teddy bear’s face, whose expression had not shifted. Yet the bear emitted a certain degree of calming warmth, and Scott could hear deep vibrations in the plushie’s chest as if he were breathing. Scott tried moving but the bear’s grip was firm. He could feel the mess of his diaper pushing up against his bottom as Scott realized within a matter of less than ten minutes he had become completely incapacitated. He shuddered with pleasure as he realized how incredibly helpless he was in his current predicament. He looked back at the rabbit but found that she had disappeared. The vibrations coming from the bear were soothing, and Scott found himself beginning to drift off. He decided that there was no point struggling against the behemoth of a plushie, so he allowed himself to give way to slumber, suckling on the pacifier strapped in his mouth. His mind drifted, and with the bear still humming, Scott fell sound asleep. After what seemed like hours, Scott groggily opened his eyes. The basement lights were off, or so he thought. He tried moving but found that his arms were bound to what felt like a mattress. Scott lifted his head, and in the dim light coming from outside his window Scott realized two things. One, he was back in his room in his crib, and two, he was tightly strapped into a segufix that had been attached to his mattress from head to toe. Scott’s heartbeat rose as he struggled against his bonds to no avail. Wiggling his butt around Scott found to his relief that at least he had been changed into a fresh diaper while he slept, “Still, how the hell had she managed to do that whilst I slept?” Scott wondered to himself. Feeling around Scott realized he had been put in a very thick, nighttime diaper. He also realized that his stomach felt quite full, and his bottom felt a little bit sore. “Uh-oh” Scott thought, “Had she fed him AND put a suppository in him?” But Scott didn’t think for much longer as the pressure in his bowels and bladder suddenly began to build. He writhed and wriggled in his restraints but he held him tightly in place as he realized what was going to happen. A stream of urine began filling the front of his diaper as his bowels let loose a torrent into the seat of his diapers. The smell immediately hit him as in bursts he began to soil his padding in true earnest. He breathed heavily through the pacifier in his mouth as the mess in his diapers was pressed against his body, unable to escape the condition he was in, the leopard truly began to feel incredibly helpless. Tears welled up in his eyes as his sore bottom let loose a final torrent in his thirsty padding. He lay there, laying in his mess like a little baby. Breathing heavily, tears streaming from his eyes, Scott’s emotions were a mess. He felt like he was in a dream, although what he was experiencing was painful it turned him on immensely. He could feel the passion in his diapers growing and he strained for release. He began thrusting his waist forwards and backwards to no avail. He was on the edge but still yet so far away. Scott’s ears perked up as he heard the door open, turning his head he saw the rabbit standing in the hallway, holding something in her hand. “I see my young one wasn’t able to hold it in during the night” she said coyly, gliding into the room. Scott still couldn’t quite see what she held in her hand as the rabbit unlocked the crib and lowered the rails. “I think that it’s time for a little punishment, don’t you think?” Scott’s stomach dropped as he strained to see what she held in her hand. Something soft was pressed into the front of his wet diaper, which then began to buzz uncontrollably. Scott threw his head back in anguish, the rabbit began to press the vibrator harder against his rock hard erection. Scott began moaning into his pacifier as the rabbit teased him with the device, turning up the setting and then turning it down just as he thought he was going to release. Scott strained against his bondage as the rabbit did as she pleased with the excited leopard. Just as Scott was sure he was going to burst she removed the vibrator. He pined incessantly but she only shushed him. “Hush little one, it’s way past your bedtime.” She withdrew, bringing up the bars of the crib again and locking them in place. Leaving the room she turned around, and smiled at him from the side of her face. “Tomorrow will be a beautiful new day, with plenty of time for you and me to play.” And upon completing the nursery rhyme, she shut the door, leaving the exhausted and horny leopard in the dark. He lay there, in his messy padding, straining against his restraints as he thought to himself how much of a baby he really was.

Chapter III. Annie stirred softly. A dull, continuous pain throbbed in her head as the light that was streaming onto her closed eyelids caused her to cringe. It forced her eyes to scrunch up, and she turned her head from side to side, trying to escape the light. “Djusht… five… mowe minutesh…” She mumbled, taking a second to realize that her voice did not sound like she expected it to. At last, she opened her eyes. Wooden bars met her vision. Once more she frowned, feeling as if something was not quite right. Her mind felt foggy, as if there were a shroud of a soft numbing veil present in every thought she had. She shifted, noticing that her diaper was thoroughly soaked. She felt the soggy interior of the diaper brush against her naked skin, feeling soft and warm. Was it her wet diaper that was bothering her? No, she thought to herself, waking up in a soggy diaper was not something abnormal for her. Or was it? She hugged the hyena plushie that was still in her arms, feeling a surprising amount of comfort from its presence as she wiggled a little bit, the feeling of the clammy diaper around her waist causing her a slight feeling of discomfort. Before she knew it, she began to sniffle. At first she thought to herself that it really wasn’t that cold in the room, but before she knew it her vision became cloudy with tears as well. Something inside her told her that she normally would not react like this, but at the same time she found herself unable to stop. She began to cry quietly, her sobs muffled by the pacifier still firmly lodged between her lips which she suckled on for comfort. Heavy but softened footsteps came from outside of her nursery, and quietly the door to her room opened. Matilda stepped inside the room, wearing the same maternal outfit as the previous evening, except this time a few stains had appeared on the front of her apron. “Oh honey, did we wake up wet this morning? I should have come in and woken you up earlier before your soggies turned cold and uncomfortable. Come on baby, let’s get you into a nice, dry diaper.” She padded forward, the large mother bear practically filling Annie’s entire vision as the bear stood up on her tippy toes to unfastened the bars of the crib, which Annie had not yet realized reached up all the way to the ceiling of the nursery. Lowering the bars, Annie allowed herself to be scooped up from the little nestled nook that she had made in the soft mattress. Matilda placed the oversized girl against herself, supporting her underneath her wet diaper, which squelched softly from inside of the sleeper, causing Annie to feel even more just how thoroughly she had soaked it. “And we can’t forget Mrs Hyena, can we now? I bet she was such a good little sleeping buddy for my baby last night.” She grabbed the stuffed animal with her free hand, offering it to Annie who found herself unable to resist grabbing the hyena and hugging her close. “There’s my good little baby.” The bear walked over to the changing table, where she set the girl on stomach and patted her bottom through the sleeper, clucking her tongue as she worked on unzipping the sleeper. “You really did a number on this one, little one. I’m definitely going to have to keep you in thicker diapers if you’re going to soak them this much!” Soon enough, Annie found herself stark naked on the changing table except for the soggy diaper around her waist. The bear gently turned her over onto her back, and brought a strap up over her stomach, snuggly securing her on top of the plastic topped changing table. “Let’s take a look at what little surprises my baby left in her diaper for me, shall we?” Deftly she pulled off the tapes of the diaper one by one, unfolding the front of the diaper and taking a look at the insides. “Yep, that’s one soggy baby!” Matilda continued to narrate her affections and care, unbeknownst to Annie as being part of the hypnotic spell her large, furry caretaker was weaving over her mind. The previous evening, Matilda had made her decision. She was going to keep Annie as her charge until she had completely and utterly regressed her, to the point where she didn’t need to weave her motherly magic and she remained a good little baby girl perfectly rehabilitated. After all, the bear thought to herself, what better way to get rid of her bad habits than to get rid of all of her habits completely! Annie found herself struggling to form a cohesive thought. Something inside of her told her something was wrong, but it was hard to figure out why. After all, the soft, inviting smile of the hyena plushie she hugged tightly in her arms as she allowed the bear to wipe her diaper area with warm, moist wipes seemed to feel pretty pleasant. She giggled into her pacifier as she felt the baby powder tickling her thighs, Matilda smiling in response and commenting on just how bubbly her little girl was that morning. Annie gurgled and cooed into her pacifier in response, wiggling happily as she felt her caretaker bring up the sides of the fresh diaper after the old one was slid out from under her. She welcomed the dry, soft feeling of the new diaper against her skin, feeling oddly relieved from the changing. “There we go, all better now. I wonder just how long the baby’s going to stay a dry girl, huh baby?” The bear leaned forward over her charge, Annie’s vision becoming filled with the beaming expression Matilda wore on her face. The bear deposited a gentle kiss on Annie’s cheek, washing away any negative feelings or thoughts that might have been creeping into her head. She laughed, a pure, unsullied laugh and grabbed at Matilda’s soft looking ears, a sudden urge to chew and drool all over them coming over her. “Looks like my little girl wants to play! That can certainly be arranged, but first, I think it's time we got something yummy into your tummy. What do you think, sweet thing?” Not bothering to dress her in anything else than the thick diaper now hugging Annie’s waist, Matilda picked her up once again, and padded over to the kitchen. Upon entering, Annie saw a white, soft looking highchair. She was too distracted from hugging Mrs. Hyena to wonder just where Matilda had acquired such a piece of furniture since the previous evening.