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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.

Edited by HoratioHusky (see edit history)
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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. 

Edited by HoratioHusky (see edit history)
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  • 2 weeks later...

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.

Edited by HoratioHusky (see edit history)
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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.

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  • 6 months later...

Epilogue

Janet’s memories of her previous life had just about vanished completely from her mind. She still had the occasional dream where she recalled a few people, places, and feelings she had had when amongst her own kind. Those, however, were quickly forgotten upon waking, evaporating in the morning sun as the dew on the many flowers and bushes did every day on the Isle of Foxes. 

The young woman had trouble forming any coherent thoughts at this point, beyond the primal instincts of hunger, tiredness, and the desire for cleanliness whenever she had properly soiled herself and desired a change. 

 

In fact, there was really little difference between her and an actual infant other than her size. She would fuss, and communicated the majority of her feelings through giggling happily or beginning to cry when she yearned for a specific kind of attention. The foxes, of course, were always quick to quiet her down so as not to displease the matron or the chieftess, as the responsibilities of their new pet were taken very, very seriously. 

 

She rarely wanted for anything, since to her the greatest pleasure she could receive was a stomach full of warm milk, and the soft caress of the sponge baths she received whenever her mostly liquid diet poured through her and into the back seat of her diaper. 

 

The clacking of plastic keys or the bouncing of a stuffed animal puppeted by one of the foxes attending her was the greatest form of entertainment she could possibly imagine. An increasingly effective distraction whenever the foxes cleaned her, or wanted to lure her to another part of their village as the source of evening entertainment when she was to be put on parade. 

 

To an extent, they had some relative success with training her. The leash that was attached to her collar was one that she had become well familiar with. She would no longer fuss or pull when she was led about on her hands and knees, her padded rear giving her a distinct waddle that the tribe found most amusing. As long as there was something brightly colored in front of her, or soft and cuddly like the stuffed animals the foxes had collected for her, she would be more than willing to blindly follow wherever the foxes guided her. 

 

She had become used to her routine, which consisted mostly of being fed and cooed over by the foxes. 

 

She was no longer tied up every night, as her will was no longer strong enough to even conceptualize the idea of escaping. Instead, several of the foxes had put their strengths together and constructed a large crib for her that remained in the tent she was originally held hostage in. 

 

The bars of the crib could be locked into place with wooden beams that were simply too heavy for her to lift, even if she had any idea how to remove them. During the night, she was snuggly locked in and given several of her stuffies for company. And throughout the night, several foxes would check in on her to ensure that she was sleeping soundly, as well as to check on the state of her diaper. She would occasionally need changing throughout the night to prevent any rashes, as both she and the foxes had learned the hard way. 

 

Though they had the salves needed to cure the rash, they still preferred to keep her clean and happy as opposed to constantly sniffling due to a glowing red bum. This too she became accustomed to, after a few nights of behaving fussily due to being woken up, she eventually learned to simply relax and keep her eyes closed while the foxes wiped her down and repowdered her bottom. She would mumble, and occasionally babble at them during her midnight changes, but stay well behaved enough for them to do their job. 

 

The foxes had also come to the conclusion that it was easiest to keep her clean by keeping her freshly shaven. Carved seashells were used to meticulously keep her completely hairless all the way up to her neck. There was some debate on whether shaving her completely bald would be easier, as maintaining the hair on her head required additional maintenance to keep clean from natural sweat and grime. 

 

However, after several of the female foxes had found great pleasure in braiding and otherwise decorating her hair with bows, shells, and beads, it was decided that she would be allowed to keep her hair. After all, some of the foxes had joked, the only way to make a human look even more unappealing is to remove the only plethora of fur they could enjoy. 

 

So she was maintained, shaved once a week to keep her mess an easier ordeal to deal with and thus keeping her completely smooth. Her skin was somewhat of an oddity and a great point of interest to the foxes. With soap they would lather her, keeping her smooth and soft to the touch. The stroking of fur covered paws over her sensitive skin was a source of great pleasure for both her and the foxes, and so they fell into a mutual exchange of caressing and enjoying being caressed. 

 

She was their pet, and what good is a pet than to give soft, physical attention to for the pleasure of both parties. 

 

With their new docile charge now a part of their daily life, the task of educating the younger foxes on how to take care of their special, infantilized guest had become the new item on the agenda for the tribe. With it came many lessons and instructions, which were all the duty of the matron fox who was viewed as the fox that had the most experience and skill when it came to taking care of Janet. 

Hidden amongst the vine-covered trees, a small group of young foxes were gathered round the matron, listening intently as she continued to lecture on the subject of the day. 

“Now, normally getting all of the food into her tummy is as problematic as she gets. There’s a very specific way of spooning it into her mouth, which I will demonstrate…”

 

One of the foxes began to whisper to his neighbor, smirking as he did so and nodding over to the young woman. Janet had been leashed to a small post outside of her nursery hut, and was drooling profusely. A spot of sunshine had alighted on her forehead, and the warmth that came with it was dulling her already passive mind to a pleasurable level of numbness. 

 

The fox whispered, “She looks even dumber than a toddler kit that got into his mother’s berry stash and ate his fill.”

 

The other fox gave him a look, not wanting to get into trouble since they were both supposed to be paying attention. Still, she could not help but feel the corners of her lip twitch as she imagined what her friend said in her head. It was accurate, stupefied and full of sugary berries the human did very well appeared as if she were stuffed to the gills and unable to think. 

 

“Just look at her diaper, how does that thing even hold up when she’s pooping in it five times a day?”

 

One of the other foxes whispered to another, who was unable to contain her reaction and laughed so loudly that it caused heads to swivel in their direction. 

 

The matron looked over the heads of her students at the two whispering foxes in disapproval, her voice taking on a forced sweetness as she addressed them.

 

“Mara, since you seem to be so interested in the baby’s diaper I’m sure you would love to volunteer to help me through a diaper change demonstration.”

 

Mara, the fox who had laughed nodded sheepishly. Her friend next to her was keeping her eyes low, and Mara glanced sideways at her to give a playfully dirty look. Deciding that she ought to make the best of the situation, the young fox moved past her other classmates who stared at her as she walked past them.

 

She could tell they were not envious of her, but getting the matron’s attention and personal instruction was something to be coveted. After all, the vixen in charge had announced that by the end of the course, one of the foxes would be nominated to be her successor. Being the matron fox was only a few steps away from being the chieftess, and even if it meant being on diaper duty 24/7 it remained a much desired position in the fox tribe.

 

Mara stood in front of Janet now, her forepaws crossing over her front as she waited for the matron to instruct her. Janet’s eyes wandered up from the keyring she had been chewing on and alighted on Mara, her blank expression barely registering that a new individual had presented herself to Janet. 

 

From what Mara understood, Janet struggled to distinguish between the foxes except for the matron and the chieftess. With so much time spent with her, Janet had started to call the matron fox “Mama” and the chieftess “Gama” to the great amusement of the entire tribe. 

 

The matron addressed Mara, her attention snapping up to the vixen’s face. 

 

“After the baby finishes her lunch, she usually has a routine mess that we try to clean up as soon as it happens.”

 

Behind her, Mara’s young, sensitive ears picked up another whispered comment.

“Just look at how big her diaper is now, it’s going to take forever to wipe her down!”

Another came shortly afterward.

“Why isn’t she bibbed all the time? She produces as much drool as the ocean has water in it…”

Mara nodded, swiveling her ears forward towards the matron as not to become too distracted by the teasing behind her. The matron appeared to take note of this, and nodded approvingly as she knelt down in front of Janet. Placing a paw authoritatively on her chest, she pushed on Janet until the woman relented and laid down on her back. The matron spoke, placing the paw on the front of Janet’s diaper, which had turned slightly discolored and was visibly swollen with pee. 

“The baby is used to her diapers being changed, but will occasionally grow fussy if they take too long. This is easily remedied by giving her a toy to keep her distracted while you clean her up. She knows to behave when she is being changed, but sometimes grows bored and needs a little entertainment.”

The matron nodded inside of the tent, continuing to speak.

“Jump in there and get a stuffed animal, any will do.”

Moving promptly as ordered, Mara stepped over Janet’s lythe form and into the hut. Spotting a basket full of toys almost immediately, she selected a brightly colored canine she thought would serve the purpose of keeping the oversized baby stimulated. She returned at once, and the matron nodded approvingly once more. 

The matron raised her voice, turning her head to address the class once more. 

“Now watch carefully as I undo the tapes, it’s important to keep the diaper unfolded underneath her while you clean her up. You will be disposing of the wipes and diaper in one package.”

A ripple of excited chittered broke through the class as they watched the matron work, the noise rising so much that the teasing began to come out in full force.

“She’s so smelly, eugh!”

“Should we be feeding her so much if she poops like this?”

“So it is the diaper that gives her such a big butt, she’s so doofy!”

“I bet she’s super ticklish while she’s being changed!”

“She’s getting drool all over the stuffie now!”

Janet was indeed intently gnawing on that stuffed animal’s ear during herchange, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that she was now stark naked in front of a captivated audience. Mara stood at attention next to the kneeling matron, watching closely as the matron wiped downwards and began to clean up Janet’s bottom. 

“We haven’t had a rash in a few weeks, but that does not mean that we don’t want to take steps against this. This salve that we make usually does the trick, dab between her buttocks like this when you finish cleaning her up. 

Grasping Janet by the legs, she lifted her up before sliding the dirtied diaper out from underneath her. Turning her head to Mara, the matron addressed her. 

“Hand me a clean diaper now, would you dear?”

Mara obeyed, stooping to pick one up from the pile that stood outside of Janet’s nursery hut before pawing it over to the matron. Accepting it, the matron used one paw to unfold before sliding it underneath Janet’s raised bottom, speaking up. 

 

“If you’re changing her alone, this is usually sufficient. However the baby usually likes to have her diaper fluffed before it’s taped up. You can make up for that, however, by giving her diaper a few pats after putting it on her.”

 

With deft paws, the matron lowered Janet’s looks and brought out the wings of her diaper over the woman’s thighs. Raising the front of her padding over her privates, the matron completed the tape job with practiced ease. Turning, she spoke to Mara as a smile spread across her face.

 

“Would you pat her diaper bottom for me, Mara?”

 

Kneeling beside the matron, Mara extended a paw forward and began to gently pat Janet’s bottom. The woman raised her legs up to allow her better access to it, and began to gurgle appreciatively at the attention. She cooed, audibly pleased with the attention she was receiving. 

 

The motley group of young foxes behind her burst into delighted laughter, the uproar rising in volume as their teasing intensified.

 

“Look at the happy little baby!”

 

“She’s probably going to poop again now…”

 

“She’s such a big diaper dummy!”

 

“The baby almost chewed the stuffie’s ear off!”

 

“Is she peeing? I think she’s peeing…”

 

“Mara’s the baby’s new Mommy! The baby loves her!”

 

At this last comment, Mara grew visibly red in the face. The matron flatly ignored all of the commentary, balling up Janet’s used diaper into a neat package before turning to the crowd. The vixen spotted the young fox who had shouted the last comment, giving him a fish-eyed glare as she held the soiled diaper in front of her. 

 

The matron spoke, a steely sweetness in her voice as she addressed the fox boy.

 

“Vic, you will be so kind as to take the baby’s used diaper to the disposal area.”

 

The crowd’s jeering stopped, and they all “Oohed” collectively at the crest-fallen fox who was tasked with dirty diaper duty. He nodded glumly, reaching forward to accept the diaper from the matron. Holding it a foot away from his chest, he awkwardly stepped away headed towards the dispenser. Behind him, the foxes giggled at him as a few gave him a friendly wave goodbye. The matron clapped her paws, bringing their attention back to her as she chittered. 

 

“Now then, the baby is going to be put down for her nap for the afternoon but we will convene later after she has finished resting. This evening we will go over how to give her a bath, which may be necessary if her diaper is especially dirty.”
 

The foxes gave restrained nods, keeping their thoughts to themselves for once as they thanked the matron for her time. As they began to depart, the matron turned to Mara. 

 

“Thank you for helping me today Mara, I think the baby took a liking to you.”

 

Mara smiled, close-lipped, and nodded her appreciation to the matron’s thanks. Her gaze turned back to Janet, who appeared to be blinking sleepily while she continued to chew on her toy. The young woman appeared very much ready for a nap, having become somewhat tuckered out from so much attention during her public diaper change. 

 

⤐ ⬷

 

“As you can see, lifting the handle of the spoon upwards aids in making sure most of the morsel remains inside of her mouth.”

 

The matron removed the spoon from Janet’s mouth, scooping another portion of applesauce from the container in her right paw before repeating the movement she had just described. 

 

The class had gathered around her once more, as it was now dinner time for Janet a couple of hours after her nap had ended. There was some excitement in the group of gathered foxes, as it was announced at the beginning of the session that Janet would be receiving a sponge bath during which several of the foxes would be expected to directly assist. 

 

The feedback had started up once more, which Janet blithely ignored even as some more applesauce dripped down from her chin and onto her bib, which displayed a small feral fox design on its pink front. 

 

“Could she even feed herself if she tried?”

 

“She’s still drooling!”

 

“We’re going to have to change her after her bath I bet…”

 

“Is she peeing right now?”

 

“She can’t even close her legs because of her diaper!”

 

“Do you think the matron would let us take rides on the baby’s back while she’s crawling around?”

 

Mara stood close to the matron, as that day’s previous direct participation had given him something of a confidence boost. She had not minded helping in taking care of the baby, and the daunting prospect of potentially being in charge of her well-being seemed just a little bit less scary now. 

 

The matron spoke up once more, reading for another cup of applesauce preservation before opening it with a protracted claw. 

 

“The baby usually needs to eat at least four of these containers if that’s what she’s having for dinner. If she gets hungry later, it’s likely because she did not have her fill before. We prefer to make sure she’s full so we don’t have to deal with the cleanup after any midnight snacks.”

 

The foxes nodded, Mara making eye contact with the matron before the matron began to spoon in the last of the applesauce, speaking up once more. 

 

“Mara, dearest, would you go into the nursery and grab her bathing supplies? It’ll all be in a tub with sponges and washcloths in it. There should be some warmed up water in there as well, by the firepit.”

 

The young fox promptly obeyed, returning a few minutes later with a small plastic tub filled with soapy water containing several floating sponges and clothes inside. Nodding approvingly, the matron pointed with an applesauce covered spoon to a patch of grass next to Janet, chittering softly.

 

“Right there, yes. We’ll give her her bath in the open today, the sun will keep the water warm.”

 

The excitement grew as the last of the applesauce was consumed, leaving Janet with a face, bib, and chest covered in small smatterings of the sweet fruit. She appeared ripe for the bathing, and the class of young foxes appeared eager to get their paws wet. 

 

“Now everyone, I’m going to take the baby’s diaper and bib off and I expect everyone to grab a sponge or cloth. Remember to dab gently, we want to keep her skin soft.”

 

There was the sound of swishing tails and paws scampering over to the tub, where each fox in turn took a soaked washing item in preparation. The vixen made short work of Janet’s bib, checking to see how wet her diaper was before taking it off and carefully folding it nearby to be reapplied once the bath was complete. 

 

“She might pee herself during the bath!”

 

One of the foxes exclaimed, to which the matron replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

 

“Then she will water the grass, come along let's get her sudsy”

 

Janet was coaxed onto the grassy spot, and laid out on her back. She gurgled, staring up dumbly at the group of foxes that loomed over her and began to gently massage her with their washcloths. 

The young woman smiled, enjoying the sensation of warm water being gently 

poured over her as the foxes spoiled her with their attention. Accompanied by an ever growing amount of commentary, that is. 

“Imagine how badly she would smell if we didn’t clean her up like this!”

“She smells bad anyway…”

“I’ve got the apple sauce on her face!”

“Hey, I wanted to clean that!”

“She has to be the biggest baby in the whole world…”

“Hey look! She’s ticklish on her feet!”

“Do we scrub behind her ears or not?”

The matron looked on, watching approvingly as the foxes took eagerly to their work. She would occasionally add some constructive criticism, guiding the foxes towards the idea that Janet should be cleaned from head to toe. Janet’s head was eventually lowered into the tub, and the matron demonstrated how her hair should be washed and cleaned, utilizing a different kind of soap.

“She smells so good now!”

“I wish she smelled like this all the time…”

“It’s a good thing we keep her shaved for these baths, but doesn’t she get cold?”

“Haha, her dirty diapers keep her warm enough I bet!”

“Hey baby! Look at these jingly keys!”

“Careful she doesn’t start chewing on your paws, you look just like her stuffies!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

As the bath eventually drew to its conclusion, the matron’s eyes met with Mara’s before she posed a question.

“Mara, would you like to be the one to put the baby’s diaper back on?”

The young vixen swallowed, taking a moment to think about it before nodding hesitantly. The other foxes quieted down as they watched her pick up Janet’s partially used diaper. Turning, she knelt down in front of Janet who had now mostly dried up in the sun’s rays. 

Awkwardly at first, the vixen spread the young woman’s legs before grasping her by the ankles the same way she had seen the vixen do. Unfolding the diaper with her other free paw, and seeing that it was already pretty soggy inside, she slid it underneath Janet’s raised cheeks, which gleamed in the sunlight. 

Once her bottom was over the back of the diaper, Mara lowered her legs and spread them apart again. For a moment she appeared lost for what to do next, but the matron remained quiet. She was watching intently, hoping to see that Mara had been paying close attention during their previous lesson.

At last, Mara appeared to figure out what she should do next. Bringing Janet’s legs closer together, she pulled at the wings of the diaper and brought the heavy, soaked front of the diaper over the young woman’s privates. Next, the tape job. Mara could tell that she was certainly not as adept at this part as the matron, but to her satisfaction she was able to secure them in a fashion that appeared snug, if not entirely symmetrical. 

When the task had been completed, the foxes cheered and clapped for Mara who appeared a little flustered at the attention. 

“Well done Mara, that should keep the baby clean and comfortable for the night.”

The other foxes began to disperse, as the matron announced shortly afterward that class was done for the day. Mara remained behind, having volunteered to escort Janet to her crib for the evening. 

Speaking to the matron, Mara allowed herself a bit of her own humor to show as she asked. 

“So, what’s the most number of diapers the baby has gone through in a day?”

To her surprise, the matron chuckled and shook her head. A second later, she replied with humor in her voice. 

“Nine, she had the runs that day. It was awful…”

Mara laughed in response, giving Janet’s leash and soft tug as the two vixens guided her back to her tent, where she would be secured into her crib for the night. Undoubtedly, she would need to be changed once more the following morning after her bedtime accidents.

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