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🦊 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.

🐻 Matilda the Bear By Horatio Husky Commission for ArtMckinley Chapter I. Matilda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as the night air of the forest filled her spirit lungs and nostrils with a sweet, damp scent. The leaves and branches crunched satisfyingly underneath her large foot paws as she walked along her usual midnight stroll, the bottom of her dress billowing beneath her but above the dew covered grass, keeping itself away from its moisture. The being had dressed herself in a maternal looking apron on top of her dress, resembling the image of a motherly caretaker from decades past. She always had a habit of taking a while to catch up to modern fashions, and enjoyed staying a little behind in the times. Her figure was still intimidating despite her motherly appearance, long brown hair, a towering height of well over seven feet, and as with most females bear spirits she bore heavy set breasts and large arms and legs. As a spirit, however, she wasn’t bothered by her appearance, and fully embraced her largeness with a positive personality. Not to mention, she had other worries than how she looked. Her concerns were with the locals and their relation to the forest, keeping sure that each stayed where they belonged and didn’t bother each other too much. That’s when the car with its brights on and music blaring decided to park by the side of the road bordering the forest, her ears perked up, and she followed the source of the noise. Goodness me! If this is Tom again getting home late and drunk his wife isn’t the only one that is going to have strong words with him, she thought to herself annoyedly, remembering how one of the locals had a bad habit of drinking and driving, and how on multiple occasions she had to nurse him back to health herself. The distinct smell of booze was in the air as she approached, her sensitive nostrils picking up a few other choice scents as she drew closer. Are those teenagers out again sleeping with each other away from their parents? Goodness me the youth today truly are shameless! At last she stood next to the car by the passenger side window, she leaned over and peeked inside. Much to her horror, the scene before her was uglier than any she had seen before. Covered in sweat and runny make-up a girl who looked to be in her early twenties lay in the driver’s seat, her breath reeking of alcohol as she moaned to herself loudly, her right hand stuck in the front of her pants working its way in and out of what Matilda presumed to be her unspeakables. Several black highlights were present in her dirty blonde hair, and she was clad in what was in Matilda’s opinion, “Scant, modern rags.” “What do you think you’re doing, young lady? Do you know what time it is? And goodness gracious, do you have any idea how naughty this behavior is! Drunk and touching yourself in the middle of the forest, tsk tsk. You do know that it's a school night and the squirrel kids have to be up bright and early to go to their nut-gathering classes! And don’t even get me started on the birds and worms!” The young woman started at first, turning to gaze at the forest spirit and narrowing her eyes, having difficulty focusing on her blacked out state. Suddenly comprehension dawned on her incapacitated state of mind, and she let out a yelp. “BEAR! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP THERE’S A BEAR OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!” She fumbled with her keys to get them into the ignition, but Matilda was too quick for her. “You’re not going anywhere tonight young lady, you’re coming with me!” Before she realized what was happening, the bear had walked around the front of the car, opened the driver’s seat, and gently extricated the young lady from her car. Cradling her gently in her arms, she entered into a brisk walk back into the forest towards her home, the young lady blinking and trying to come to her senses while the world spun around her. “L-let me go! I don’t want to be eaten! W-why are you talking anyway… What are you… You’re a bear!” The young woman’s words slurred, which only added to Matilda’s disapproval, “Your behavior is absolutely inappropriate, young lady, a fine thing such as yourself has so much more potential in this world. Ladies like you should be in school learning to make the world a better place, not ravaging through drink and self-indulgence! And if not school you should be finding yourself a husband or wife! This really doesn’t suit you.” The young woman was now utterly confused. Why is this bear talking to me like she’s my mom? Did somebody slip something into my drink and now I’m hallucinating? Before long the party of two had arrived at Matilda’s cottage, a humble looking abode with smoke coming out of a chimney in the back and a comfortable looking porch in the front. “Let’s get you cleaned up now and perhaps something warm in your stomach, if it can handle it. How does that sound, kitten?” ‘Kitten’ blinked her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. The inside of the cottage looked nothing like she expected it too. They hadn’t entered a one room building like she expected, but they were now standing in the front hallway of what looked to be quite a large house. As her blurry vision cleared slightly, she saw a staircase leading up to a second floor, and several rooms connecting to each other on the first floor including a kitchen, living room, and what she presumed to be a dining room. “How… What… Wh-” “Hush now dearest, we need to get you cleaned up and in your crib! It’s way past your bed-time.” The young lady was now utterly confused, and almost completely convinced that what she was experiencing was either a hallucination or a drunkenly induced dream. “I’m never drinking again…” she muttered to herself, rather unconvincingly. “Well that’s a start at least! There’s plenty of other things I’ll be training out of you, but that's the one that’s definitely near the top of the list!” After wiping her foot-paws on the rug near the front of the door and locking the door behind her, the bear carried her charge up the stairs of her home and turned a corner, leading them into a white, spacious bathroom. Patterns of smiling ducks, sailors, and beach animals decorated the walls, and a large bathtub in the corner decorated the interior of the bathroom space. Before she had time to marvel at how clean and pristine the bear kept the place looking, Kitten found the bear was now tugging at her clothing, stripping her down naked. “What are you doing!? D-don’t take my clothes off!” The bear stopped for a moment, a patient expression on her muzzle as she set the girl down on the counter. Adopting a chiding tone, she explained, “Now now little one, I can’t get you cleaned up if you’re still wearing all this icky clothing! Not to mention they’re not fit for somebody as pretty as you. Be good now!” She shook her head, still protesting, “Stop touching my clothes you stupid bitch, I told you I didn’t want your help!” Suddenly the world shifted and turned almost upside down. Before she knew it, she was lying stomach down in the bear’s lap. “What are you- OWW!” Whap! went Matilda’s paw as she spanked her charge’s now exposed behind. She cried out, much to her own surprise as tears poured down her cheeks. Matilda tutted under her breath and continued to rhythmically deliver punishment onto her kitten’s behind. “Now look what I have to do, I don’t like giving spankings but you have simply given me no choice. I bet your mother would not approve of the potty mouth that you have developed either!” At this point the girl was now sobbing, snot coming out of her nostrils as the tears further smudged her already spread make-up. Matilda’s ears perked up, as she heard the human mutter and babble out what sounded like a pitiful apology. She quirked an eyebrow, and paused a little longer before she delivered the next smack on the quickly reddening cheeks of her charge. Well that was quick… She seems to be pretty malleable in this state… Hmm… Perhaps…? Speaking in a clear voice, she paused after her 19th spank and addressed the pitiful looking girl in her lap in an authoritative tone. “Now then, are you going to be speaking like that to Mama Bear ever again? Or do I have to show you more of what girls with potty mouths get?” Practically blubbering, the young woman shook her head and managed to stammer out, “N-no… I’m not going to s-speak like that to you again… P-promise!” She spoke, her words intermixed with hiccups and shaking sobs. Matilda realized that she was barely lucid as she lay completely still and limp in her lap, unable to resist the punishment that she had been delivering on her bare behind. She continued, maintaining the same dominating tone of voice as she further chastised, “I thought so! Drinking and touching yourself and staying out late at night, not to mention driving under the influence! You’ve been a very, very naughty girl and you’re going to get even more spanking if you keep this up! You’re lucky I’m letting you off tonight because you’re tired and probably are in great need of a bath and a good night’s sleep! Are you going to behave for me while I clean you up, young lady?” Nodding emphatically, the girl continued to sob and pant in Matilda’s lap. Matilda gently lifted her charge up and laid her head against her shoulder, standing up and supporting her underneath her bottom as she did so. “Now then, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Gently carrying her over to the bathtub she deposited her inside, turning the water on and tugging off the young woman’s shirt, the last of the clothing that she had been wearing. “Now, what should we call you?” Matilda mused to herself out loud, as she turned on the warm water and adjusted the girl’s body into a rough sitting position, pouring some shampoo into the water as it began to rise up around her legs. “Hmm… I think Annie would suit you quite nicely, don’t you think so dear?” Annie’s eyes fluttered in response, and she groaned softly, her brow furrowing in a contorted, pained expression. A second trickle sounded in the air, and Matilda quickly realized that her blacked out charge was now adding her own urine to the bathwater. “Goodness me! It’s a good thing we got you in the bath before you soiled yourself! We’re going to have to do something about that if you’re going to be sleeping on my bed sheets! Now, I should still have the nursery set up.” Turning off the faucets she drained the bath before turning on the hot water once more. Retrieving a large rag she dipped it into the steaming water and started to gently wash the girl’s body, holding her various limbs and taking great care that her washing felt soft and gentle. The bear began to hum a tune under her breath as she worked away, speaking softly and cooing over Annie as she washed the make-up from her face and dabbed at her sensitive bits, ensuring that she was clean from top to bottom. “That should do it, all squeaky clean! Let’s get you dried then.” She turned off the water and pulled the plug, letting the bathwater and soap suds swirl away as she picked Annie up and out of the tub, laying her down on a towel she had spread on the bathroom floor. Annie could barely comprehend what was happening to her as Matilda ruffled her short, tomboyish hair in a towel and wrapped her up in the one she was laying on. Satisfied that she was dry, the bear scooped her up, still wrapped in the towel and carried her out of the bathroom. Walking down the hallway she took a left before she entered a room that Annie thought must have been a figment of her imagination. It looked like a regular nursery, except every piece of furniture, toys, and even the diapers beneath the changing table seemed to be oversized. Annie blinked twice, her vision still blurry, and a singular thought bubbled up to the surface of her drunken mind, “I crashed my car, hit my head, and now I’m seeing things…”

IT: Infant Tech By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Bolt Chapter 1: The Office Bolt readjusted his glasses. This was a nervous habit of his, which he would perform with relative frequency whenever he was working with unruly code. Sat in front of his desk, garbed in his normal office attire of dress shirt, black dress pants, classy shoes, and stylish bowtie, the husky was deeply immersed within the contents of his computer screen. The husky’s office cubicle was relatively orderly; a Newton's cradle and Rubik’s Cube served as the only available knick-knacks. The husky knew full well that too much desk clutter was a prime environment for distraction. Sometimes, however, a little distraction was necessary to allow his mind to wander just far enough for him to be able to get some perspective. He had been staring at his computer screen for about two hours straight at that point, and despite the blue light filter in his glasses he could feel his warm, brown eyes beginning to dry up just a little bit. A semicolon… really… that was the error? A sense of weariness suddenly overcame the husky. Moving his right paw, he delicately stroked his keyboard a few times until he had typed in the correction to his code. Bolt leaned back in his chair. He pulled down softly on his one droopy ear, another habit he often performed when deep in coding contemplation. Unseen, conveniently hidden in the break room by drawn blinds, two felines stood holding respective mugs of coffee. A caracal and tiger, the two giant cat species had their attention focused on the husky through a break in the blinds which the tiger held slightly open with an extended claw. Yuri’s had a singular protracted claw, his other paw holding the mug of joe in his paw with a firm, confident grip. Cinder, on the other hand, appeared to be every semblance of calm, cool, and collected. He lounged leisurely against the countertop, gazing down the bridge of his nose at the same husky that had just now caught his feline companion’s attention. “Another office crush, Yuri?” Withdrawing his gaze momentarily from gazing between the break in the blinds, the tiger gave the caracal his best withering look. Which, coming from a tiger, is quite an intimidating experience. The desert cat was left unphased, however, as he had been at the end of such an unflattering glance more often than not. Idly, he took a sip from his coffee mug and cocked his head to the side, his long, pointed ears flopping to the side dramatically. “Oh don’t look so grumpy, kitty cat. Shall I bring out the ball of yarn so you can feel better?” Yuri, who had grown used to the unwavering confidence that the caracal seemed to have a true abundance of, chose to ignore the comment and turn his attention back to staring at the husky. From his vantage point, he could see that the husky appeared to be well distracted and in the midst of work. Having only recently quit his temping position at the company, the husky was now able to exercise his full work ethic with the accompaniment of financial compensation. At this rate, he would be employee of the month in no time. Yuri’s golden, feline eyes pierced through the husky with a predator-like ferocity. Something inside of the tiger told him that not all was what it seemed with the newest member of IT. It was while Cinder was idly browsing through his phone, disappointed that he was unable to get a rise out of his tiger friend when Yuri gasped. Cinder knew this was important. Deftly placing his mug of coffee on the counter he pushed himself off the counter in a quiet, controlled leap landing right next to the tiger. “What is it?” He whispered softly, his feline instincts kicking in as the two cats’ slitted eyes narrowed as they gazed at the oblivious canine. Bolt sighed, stood up, and turned around to pick up a small laptop on the desk behind him. As he did so, an uncharacteristically large bulge in his rear end pressed against the seam of his pants. Cinder’s mouth dropped wide open, an uncharacteristically surprised face coloring the feline’s sharp, noble features. Yuri simply smiled, chuckling softly under his breath which came as a deep rumble inside of the massive cat’s throat. He spoke under his breath. “We got ourselves another one…” “This is the second one this month! How do they keep falling into our paws like this?” Yuri shook his head, a gratified smile across his muzzle as he placed a heavy, reassuring paw on the smaller cat’s shoulder. “Alright, like we did last time. I’ve still got the carseat set up and he looks pretty gullible. I think we’ll be having some good fun tonight, kitten.” Cinder blushed slightly towards the end of the tiger’s comment, knowing full well what the larger cat was referring to. It wasn’t so long ago that he had been the subject of the tiger’s cleverly designed trap. Yuri turned around, in a series of purposeful movements he drained the remainder of his coffee into the sink before depositing his mug on the dirtied dish rack. Taking out his car keys, he placed them on the countertop before departing. His striped tail floating majestically behind him, the muscular feline shouldered his way through the door of the office kitchenette and made his way over to the husky’s cubicle. Cinder had picked up the car keys, slyly lowering them into his pocket before silently exiting after the tiger, making his way towards the building’s garage level. The image of confidence, Yuri loomed over the husky casting a shadow over him. Bolt took quick notice of this, and turned around in his seat to gaze up frightfully at the intimidating fur in front of him, blinking several times. “Uhm… Can I-” “Yes, you can. I’m Yuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The cat extended a massive paw towards the husky. Bolt, recovering quickly, smiled in kind and took it on his own, giving it a firm squeeze as he replied with a clarity in his voice that took even him by surprise. “Hi Yuri, I’m Bolt. The pleasure is all mine.” Confident little scrappy mutt, isn’t he? Ohhh I like him… This should be fun! Yuri’s smile broadened, now feeling a sense of genuine delight at having witnessed a confident introduction accompanied by a firm handshake. He didn’t much like wimps, even though he did enjoy putting them in their place. Cinder had shown significantly less bravado than the canine in front of him, and only after he had discovered the truth behind the tiger’s intentions did he warm up. No, this pup has spunk! It’ll be even more fun to see him crawl now… Still smiling, the tiger motioned with a jerk of his head towards the elevator that led to the garage level below. “Bolt, I’ve got a few computer towers in my car that I worked on over the weekend. I really would have no trouble transporting them myself, but if you come along it’ll only take one trip. How about we use it as an excuse to take a break from work with a little aerobic exercise and a friendly chat, hmm?” Understanding quickly, Bolt nodded and smiled congenially. Closing down his computer, he stood up and nodded indicating that the tiger should lead the way. Yuri turned, and began to make his way towards the elevator. Glancing back briefly, to ensure that Bolt was coming along. Given the size of the cat, Bolt had to take a step and a half for every step the tiger took. The subtle waddle the husky was unconsciously exhibiting slightly was now more apparent. Suspicions confirmed, the tiger turned to face forward with a look of satisfaction on his muzzle. “It’ll be the grey minivan, the company likes its Chrystlers.” Yuri spoke, his tone a low rumble as the two entered the elevator and the tiger pressed a button marked ‘G’ while Bolt nodded in response. The two stood silently in the elevator, waiting patiently for the lift to descend down to the parking garage several levels beneath the ground floor. The company building itself was relatively massive, sporting fourteen proud stories above and three below. The two were stationed on the fifth floor, so the descent was relatively brief. Ding! The elevator doors opened to reveal rows of sparsely populated parking spots, the smell of concrete with a hint of car exhaust hitting their nostrils as Yuri led the way. “I’m parked towards the back.” He stated simply, his smirk hidden behind his turned back as he heard the husky behind him pick up speed to keep pace with him. Everything is running smoothly… “Alright, take a look at what I’ve got here for you!” Speaking confident, he opened the passenger side door with a flourish to reveal what was inside. It took Bolt a moment to process what he was seeing. In front of him appeared to be a baby’s carseat, except no ordinary one. This particular seat looked large enough to comfortably seat him, with an impressively robust five point harness that looked as if not even Yuri would be able to break through it. Stunned, the husky stood open mouthed for a few seconds while he tried to process what he was looking at. This was exactly the opportunity that Yuri and Cinder were looking for. “Now, before we get you snuggly buckled up for your car ride little guy, let’s check something really quick.” Unable to react in time, Yuri placed his hands underneath the husky’s armpits and raised him up effortlessly. Taken by surprise, Bolt let out a whimper while his legs dangled helplessly behind him. As suddenly as he had been picked up, he felt something fiddling with the front of his belt buckle. Twisting around, his cheeks burning bright red, he was able to catch a glimpse of the Caracal he had seen wandering around the office earlier trying to undo his pants. At last he succeeded accompanied by an exclamation. “Aha! There we are.” His pants now around his ankles, Bolt’s choice of underwear that morning was now on full display for both of the large cats to examine. “Just as I thought, we have a little puppy on our hands.” Yuri stated, a condescending but not unkindly tone in his voice. Bolt was now blushing furiously, his tail curled between his legs in a vain attempt to hide the large, white diaper that hugged his waist snuggly. It was apparent to both of the onlookers that it was designed with both comfort and absorbance in mind, as a trail of puppy paws ran from the front middle all the way through the back. “You won’t be needing these, I don’t think.” As Bolt spluttered, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and smallness washing over him as he continued to be held up in the air, Cinder delicately disentangled his pants from his ankles. Now, he wore only his work shirt and sneakers, which made him feel incredibly exposed. The tiger looked him up and down, an expression of approval across his muzzle while Cinder neatly folded the husky’s pants and placed them under his right arm. “Cinder, do me the favor of checking the puppy’s diaper, would you?” At the direct mention of his padding, the husky’s ears folded against the top of his head. Tail tucked between his legs, cheeks burning, and ears pinned, the canine was the spitting image of an utterly flustered pup. Grinning, Cinder placed an authoritative paw over the front of the dog’s thick padding, squeezing gently before cupping the back in turn. Pressing it upwards, as if to further remind Bolt of what he was wearing, the caracal shook his head as he replied. “Still dry, surprisingly enough,” Cinder commented. “Well then, I think we should do something about that,” said Yuri, giving the husky a large, toothy smile before depositing him into the oversized booster seat. “W-wait a second! I一mmpf!” Bolt, having finally been able to find his voice, barely managed to splutter out a complete sentence before he was silenced by Cinder, who had apparently been waiting for such a moment. Crossing his eyes, Bolt looked down to see what had interrupted his exclamation while Cinder tightened something behind his head. His vision obscured by the caracal’s red-orange fur, the husky only became aware that he had been fully buckled into the carseat when he felt the harness tighten over his shoulders, waist, and onto the front of his diaper pressing it up against him. The husky’s heart was now beating quickly, limbs flailing. As if in anticipation of this, Yuri swiftly grabbed each of his wrists and looped them through soft, padded cuffs. His wrists now suspended by his head, his arms held upwards in an incredibly vulnerable position, he found that he was no longer able to struggle as effectively as before. Cinder had grabbed his ankles and pulled them through a similar set of cuffs that prevented him from raising his ankles more than a few inches away from the bottom of the carseat. Both cats stepped back and took a moment to admire their handiwork. Bolt looked down to see what they had done to him, a lock glowed softly from a small panel that served as the center-point for all of the buckles. From what the husky could gather, the locking mechanism appeared to be activated by a touchscreen, the key to which he was sure was possessed only by the two felines in front of him. “Aww, I think he looks pretty cute! That pacifier won’t let much more than a whimper through, pup. So you can whine all you want on the ride home!” Cinder extended a wiry arm forward, gently booping the tip of the husky’s snoot. Yuri appeared pleased as well, his arms crossed and looking down at the incapacitated fur as if he were appraising a prized possession. Speaking softly, and without breaking his gaze at the pup, he placed a car key into Cinder’s paws. “Yes, I think he does. Take the highway, kitten.” It was Cinder’s turn to blush, which he barely managed to conceal as he lowered his vision and nodded, opening the door next to Bolt’s and sitting himself down in front of the wheel. Moving with the impressive display of control that all large cats appeared to inherently possess, Yuri sat down in the seat next to Cinder's, looking back at Bolt in the rear view mirror. “I encourage you to behave, puppy. This will be fun.” With that statement hanging in the air, Cinder pulled out of the parking garage and had merged into city traffic within a few minutes. Bolt was still trying to process what had just happened to him. The two cats had seemingly quickly found out about his little secret before he had had the chance to react. He was now pacified, gagged, restrained, and being transported to who-knows-where. Despite himself, to make matters even worse, he was beginning to feel himself become aroused at the restrictive tightness that five-point harness seemed to impose on the front of his padding. Wrapping over his shoulder, with three straps ensuring that his waist and diaper were snuggly pressed against him, there seemed to be no hope of escape. He was completely at the mercy of the felines sitting in the front seats of the car. The car ride passed in silence, Bolt pulled helplessly at the restraints holding his limbs hostage but to no avail. Yuri would occasionally look up in the rearview mirror, Bolt could see that his eyes were wrinkled as if he were smiling, hidden from view from the husky’s limited line of sight. Whatever the tiger was thinking, it was causing him great pleasure.

Chapter 1 Scott could hardly contain his giddiness as he turned his steering wheel to make a left at the intersection. After several weeks of careful planning, scheming, checking, and rechecking, he finally had a free weekend for himself. He had spent those weeks ordering discrete packages filled with supplies of a particular nature and tinkering in his garage on a device that he hoped would be able to fulfill his wildest fantasies. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he put his blinker on and changed lanes, wanting to get home as soon as legally possible. Scott had had a great week at work, his boss had been admiring the white leopard's progress for a while now. He had recently designed a filing system that, according to his calculations, had increased the company’s data storage system by a whole 12.4%. The subsequent increase in efficiency had also increased his paycheck to a much sizable amount, which he had recently been putting to good use. Scott was a brilliant engineer and computer programmer, his passion for creation had brought him to work for Sky-TEC industries, a company that specializes in creating computers whose processing power and ability to complete tasks in incredibly low amounts of time had brought them up to one of the best technology companies in the world. But as brilliant as this company was, Scott was just a little bit more brilliant. Scott had quite unmistakably come into contact with a piece of technology that was top secret and incredibly powerful. Many would use it for great evil, while some might use it to achieve near indestructibility. Scott however, wasn't particularly interested in any of those things. Scott had some very private tendencies that he had never shared with anyone since he was a child. Specifically, he loved indulging in infantile fantasies, imagining himself just like a little kid again. From feeling the warmth of a freshly soaked diaper, to the pleasurable struggle of being put in bondage whilst wearing a soiled diaper, unable to do anything about his current predicament, to the wonderful childlike freedom of just wearing a diaper and t-shirt whilst watching children's shows on TV. Scott had spent a good amount of time imagining exactly what he'd love to do to or by himself if he had the time and resources to fulfill his fantasies. Fantasies that he hoped would be fulfilled very soon. Scott pulled into the driveway of his comfortable little home. It wasn't anything special, he had little furnishings to decorate it with, but it had what he liked to consider an "aesthetical amount of space". He turned off the engine, grabbed his shoulder bag, and exited the car, walking into his garage. He flicked on the lights, and as the light bulbs blinked awake the device that he'd spent months on putting together sat on his workshop table. To put it bluntly, Scott had been programming a device that would essentially stop time itself. Through a combination of biotechnology, an improbability-engine, and a calculator that essentially worked on the whimsical nature of the polarity of electrons whirling around in titanium atoms in the contraption, the device was able to access the particular genetic code of the user and ignore all cells with the sequence, then continue to all other organic matter and inorganic matter and "freeze them in place". Scott didn't fully understand it, but he knew how to put the parts together and calibrate the machine. One might think that experimenting with such a device would be incredibly risky, but Scott had that figured out as well. He had coded in a fail-safe into the device. If a large amount of cells of the individual who had activated the device began to shut down at a rapid enough pace indicating possible death, it would essentially reverse the freezing process restoring reality to normal. Scott picked up the device with baited breath. It didn't look like anything special, like a TV remote except with fewer buttons and what looked like more volume controls. He connected his phone to the remote and fed it information about the current time, position of earth relative to the sun, and relative temperatures around the world. He hoped that the device would be able to send out the proper frequency into the molecules around it, setting off the time freezing reaction properly. He knew that if it failed, it may fail spectacularly, possibly even harming him despite the fail safe. A green light on the device shone, indicating that it was ready to be activated. He closed his eyes, pressed his eyes shut, and pushed a large red button with his finger. A loud rushing sound echoed through his ears, he fell backwards sputtering and coughing, he felt as if everything in a single part of his body was getting lightly tickled with electricity, he yelled in alarm, but before he could yell for more than a second it all stopped. Scott looked around. Everything looked. . . normal. He went over to the garage switch and pressed it, a whirring sound came from the door as it opened. He padded outside and his jaw dropped. Birds hung eerily in the air, much like bricks don't. Leaves stood stalk still, frozen as a gust of wind was blowing through it. Scott fanned himself with a paw experimentally, looking at it as he felt the air particles against his whiskers and fur. He had done it. He had created a device that stopped time. It stopped time for everything and everyone! Everyone, except him. Scott hooted and hollered! He started running down the street, passing cars with passengers in them halfway through a sip of coffee, forming a word as they talked on the phones, or smiling jaws and maws agape as they sang to their favorite car songs. Scotts saw planes and clouds, unmoving in the sky, felt the warmth of the sun on his fur as it peeked behind a cloud, permanently, until adjusted by the remote of course. Scott stopped running in the middle of an intersection and turned around and around, taking in the view. He laughed, joyous that he had achieved something that most thought was only possible in sci-fi movies and fantasy novels. Suddenly, he remembered why he had gone so ridiculously out of his way with his invention. He turned tail sprinted back to his house and got quickly inside, closing his door, not bothering to lock it. Who would try bothering him now if every ‘who’ was frozen in time? He walked inside his sparsely furnished living room and opened one of the brown boxes he had sitting there. A fresh waft of baby powder and ointment met his feline nostrils as he admired the contents of the box. Within it lay several large, fluffy adult diapers, each themed with little cartoons of various baby animals wearing diapers. Some looked sleepy, others laughed in joy, while still others were too busy with a toy to do anything else. Scott shuddered with excitement and let out a shaky sigh. Finally, I can unwind like I've always wanted to. He thought, as his tail twitched in anticipation. He looked at the other boxes, knowing that what they contained would only increase the amount of fun he was about to have. He grinned, and speaking aloud to no one said, “It’s going to be a good weekend."