The Vacant Years: Day 1
Talikin was on a cloud. Never before in his life had the fox been so cozy, totally covered and surrounded by the serene cocoon of snug warmth; comfort personified. He grinned ear to ear, cuddling closer to the warm mass that he recognized as his boyfriend, still half asleep, and pulled the thick, heavy covers closer around him. He awoke sluggishly, but not in an unpleasant sense. The sleep from which he was coming was simply so perfect that he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do more. Alas, the brightness of morning was upon him, and, if not necessarily get up, it was time for the fox to wake up, and so he did. There wasn’t anything in particular that set off the fox’s alarm bells, just a sense that, while he was comfy cozy in the extreme, and everything was better off than he remembered, something was… wrong, not kosher, and it was alarmingly so. The covers that Talikin had overtop, beneath, and all around him were not his own, the fluffy mass beside him was big, and relatively hominid in shape, but it wasn’t Matt, whose body was much warmer and less soft, he had gone to bed naked, but he felt the snug form of a shirt and pajama pants, Matt closed the bedroom curtains at the crack of dawn, and yet they were open. Come to think of it, how had he gotten back to bed? Had Matt come out and carried him? No, that wasn’t like him. So what the heck was going on?! 
Adding to the wiggling fox’s frustration, Talikin’s gradual return to the world of wakefulness was added to by one impulse that simply could not be ignored: he had to go pee. As an aircraft electrician, Talikin spent most of his days nestled inside of hot, cramped machines with little fresh air. Hydration was a must, and the fox consumed on average four liters (an imperial gallon) or more of cold water a day. He had also become a master at keeping hold on his bladder for long periods of time. After all, one couldn’t just go waltzing out of a decommissioned two billion dollar F-22 Raptor to go to the bathroom. In his line of work, breaks didn’t exist, vacation time didn’t exist, and, if the management had so much as an excuse, neither did weekends. That was, in fact, most of the reason that Talikin was so eager to spend that Saturday and Sunday with his boyfriend, whom he had neglected horribly after three straight weeks of ten hour days. The overtime had kicked up a huge sum of money for them to spend, and Talikin was going to suggest they do something special. But none of that occurred to him, there was only two things on his mind as he wiggled there in the cocoon of fabric: there was the message from his brain that said he needed to go to the bathroom, and the message from his bladder that said he needed to go NOW.
“Mmmhphh… Waagghhawwa?” Talikin murmured, dazed and confused as he wiggled the snug fabric loose. Where was he? This wasn’t his bed. These weren’t his sheets. And what was in his mouth? The fox bit down hard, something made of a soft, springy synthetic had been jammed into his mouth and, no matter how much he pushed on it, it wouldn’t budge. He shook his head back and forth, opening his eyes in frustration, but then went still, jaw hanging open, and felt a warm trickle spread out from between his legs as his bladder let loose. 
Talikin wasn’t in his bedroom, or in his house, or in any of the bedrooms of any of the houses that he had ever seen. Talikin was in a nursery. The fox’s head did a slow 360 around the room, totally confused by what he saw there. The room was about twice the size as his bedroom had been, and was gaily painted on all the walls with bright cartoony skies, murals of trees, grassy fields, a sun rising in the east. And he wasn’t in a bed, he knew that because beds didn’t have six foot bars on the two long sides, and carved oak and plastic headboards on the other two. The sheets, like the walls, were covered in happy, bright colors, blues and greens, white fluffy clouds, and playful little animals dancing all around. It occurred to him that the place looked like a blend of Bob Ross, Dr. Seuss, and some kind of psychedelic drug. It took all of five whole minutes for the fox to get his head together, so tumbled about was he by the sudden and unwanted change of scenery. Where was he? Was this some sort of a practical joke? 
It occurred to Talikin suddenly that his bladder had emptied, several seconds after it had happened. The fox went stern as a post with the realization, and his cheeks and nose went bright crimson with embarrassment as he looked down at his loins, expecting there to be a growing circle of dark vulpine urine spreading out from his crotch, undeniably his, but there wasn’t. In fact, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual at all. He felt a bit squishy and wet between his legs, but the clothes around it were fine, as were the sheets. Incredulous of the absurd situation, seemingly right out of a Dadaism skit, Talikin curiously pulled back the tightly wrapped sheets, exposing his lower body. Again taken aback, the silver arctic fox was dumbfounded by his one and only garment: a full body one piece footed sleeper, the kind with the zipper in the back where a toddler couldn’t get at it. It was snug and comfy as all hell, but it didn’t go an inch towards explaining what the heck he was doing in it, and why he had been brought here. 
The mystery of his strange, soft garment mostly solved, Talikin turned his attention to the suspicious bulge that rose up like a cliff from around his crotch. He poked it with a balled up hand, the sleeper having little mittens at the ends of the arms with an elastic wristband so they couldn’t be pulled out, and felt whatever was underneath crinkle loudly. He had heard the sound before, and his eyes went slowly wide. It had been many years ago, Talikin working towards his undergraduates degree in aerospace engineering and electrical systems. He had taken on a job at a local nursery school to supplement his government issued student allowance, and the diapers that the various cubs and kits and children had been put into, often unwillingly, had sounded exactly like that. The crinkle, the bulk, the sogginess; the evidence was undeniable, and, panic slowly building up in his throat, Talikin realized why his accident hadn’t spread out: he had been put into a diaper. 
The fox in the crib started to hyperventilate through his nose, his mouth currently occupied by the rubber bulb that had been strapped inside of it, and his head cast around at the speed of light for a means of escape. The room had a big door in one corner. It was lively decorated with the same bright colors as the walls and ceiling, but had large, thick hinges, inferring to the fox, who had taken a minor in architecture during university, that the door was probably two inches or more of hard wood, maybe even reinforced by a bar on the other side. He had no chance, there. His attention slowly moved around the room, taking in all the details. There was a kitchen counter like surface that ran alongside the wall opposite the door, and, above it, a line of pane glass windows spanning the entire length of the room from which the light was pouring in. He could see the sun through them, and hence they were facing east. The windows where his best bet. 
Talikin rolled over onto his stomach, then rose to his knees slowly. It hadn’t occurred to him before just how much the diaper restricted his mobility, briefly remembering those commercials for oddly shamed and fantastically named baby diapers that were supposed to prevent just that kind of inhibition on kids, many of whom were just learning to walk. He had heard of adult diapers, the kind made for old people who suffered incontinence problems, but every marketing campaign he had ever seen for a brand had bragged of their silence, invisibility, comfort, and discretion. The pillow that had been stuffed between his legs met only one of those criteria, and it certainly wasn’t silence, invisibility, or discretion. It was a bulgy, inhibiting, crinkly garment made for a baby, then sized up 500% to fit a fully grown adult. Despite the bulk, Talikin used the bars of his crib for support as he struggled to his feet, the soft, silky booties and uneven mattress doing absolutely nothing to help his precarious balance, and the diaper between his legs spreading them a shoulder’s width and a half, forcing him to bend his knees just to remain upright. 
Face burning pink with rage and humiliation, the prior barely contained behind years of suppressing mental fortification, Talikin finally rose high enough to throw his padded and mitten covered paws over the ten inch wide crossbar that capped the crib on either side, and found it to be entirely ungraspable. He recognized the material at once: high grade composite glazed plastic. The stuff was invented to keep water from boiling off space shuttles during takeoff, and it was so smooth that glass looked like sandpaper. He was stuck in the crib, at least until somebody came and got him. 
Defeated, the fox fell backwards onto the mattress, then yipped into his pacifier in surprise as his rear hit the bed, the urine soaked diaper core squishing audibly and making him feel every bit of wetness that it had absorbed, reminding him constantly that he had wet himself. It was one more shame to add to the pile, and, face burning red, Talikin curled up in his childish covers, lonely, scared, confused, and miserable in the extreme. 
Talikin couldn’t bring himself to ponder his surroundings, and, all the comfort provided by the soft, cozy surroundings gone thanks to his soggy diaper, the fox lay in a heap somewhere between consciousness and sleep for nearly an hour, the warm wetness of his thickly padded and crinkling rear gradually turning cool and clammy, adding to his discomfort. The fox’s ears perked suddenly, alerted by a sound other than that of his own rustling behind: footsteps. Footsteps outside the door. Someone was coming. 
The arctic fox’s head suddenly jerked into action, neurons firing at a million miles an hour. Could he escape? Could he fight whoever it was? Despite the natural horror he felt at this ungodly situation, Talikin couldn’t suppress the liveliest curiosity as to who it was that had kidnapped him, and why? After all, who goes through all the trouble of kidnapping a lowly engineer like himself in his sleep, drags him off to a nursery of all places, dresses him like a newborn, and locks him up in a crib. There was an odd sensation like he wasn’t in the situation at all, only reading about it in some kind of satirical absurd play that one might find in Fetish Subculture Fiction 101. But seriously, nobody in their right mind could think up something this odd, let alone write it down.
There was a sound like creaking wood as the bar of the fire-door was lifted, and, slowly for the weight of the thick boards, it slid open on greased hinges. The person that entered the now open door so dumbfounded him that Talikin forgot the various threats, pleas, and demands that he had compiled, and simply sat, slack jawed and staring at the tall, middle aged female white rabbit. She had a pristine titanium white coat, and wore her tall ears up, their pink insides the only thing that added some color to her figure. As for clothing, she was wearing a light yellow T-shirt and loose blue shorts, neither of which had logos. She looked in every way like an athletic soccer mom, ready, willing and able to rev up her six-seat minivan and pretend to watch her son during practice. 
With no concern as to the baffled and concerned look on the fox’s face, this unidentified newcomer waltzed over to Talikin’s crib as though this were nothing more than another day at the office, leaned against the bars, easily as tall as herself, grinned ear to fuzzy bunny ear, and said, “Hiya!” in a warm, playful, sing-song voice that made it impossible, however hard he tried, for the fox to be afraid of her. She looked so innocent, as though this were the most normal thing in the world, and they just stared at each other for a few minutes, taking each other in. 
The staring contest was ended by the rabbit, who turned on a dime and made her way over to the corner of Talikin’s crib, where she took a small magnetic key from her pocket and opened the snap which secured the sliding side bars, which she lowered to the ground. The fox in his humiliating clothes backed into the far corner, trying to put as much space between them as he could, but the rabbit was having none of it, going so far as to hop up and onto the mattress, a clear invasion of his space, and crawl over to him on all fours. Stupidly, Talikin realized in retrospect, he had cornered himself, and, in a few seconds, she was less than a foot away, kneeling in her athletic shorts and beaming happy, as though this was a moment she had awaited for a very long time. 
“Well, aren’t you going to say hi?” the rabbit asked, reaching over and scratching Talikin’s belly. He tried to pull out of reach, but there was nowhere to pull away to. It was either fight, or submit, and Talikin wasn’t yet sure that the situation was hopeless enough to warrant fighting. Who knows? Maybe he could reason with her. “Oh, silly me,” she giggled a bit, a happy, warm sound that gave Talikin butterflies in his tummy, “I guess you can’t talk with that pacifier in, can you? Come here, let me help you.”
Reluctantly, the fox let the rabbit maneuver him towards her, crossing her legs and gently guiding him to lay down upon them. There was no mistaking who had the power in the situation, and Talikin’s submissive nature wasn’t doing him any favors. It also didn’t help that he felt considerably weaker than usual, as though any movement or gesture would take just that much more effort to accomplish, and it decreased his desire to resist considerably.
There was a strange sense of comfort that fell upon Talikin as he laid there in the rabbit’s lap, perfectly obedient as she gently swooned over him, scratching his exposed belly and under his chin. He felt… small, and in a way he had never experienced before. It was like having someone towering over you, but at the same time knowing you were completely safe. A weird sensation from an even weirder situation, and Talikin wasn’t entirely sure he liked it.
“Now, let’s get your binky out…” the rabbit asked, retiring from affectionately scratching behind the fox’s supple ears and maneuvering her furry fingers with agility to unbuckle the lock that kept the harness in place, then pull the pacifier, the bulb about the size of an apricot pit, from his mouth. There was a bit of resistance as she yanked it free of his jaws bourn of the hours it had been stuck there, and his mouth’s gradual adaptation to its presence, but it gave the impression the he was reluctant to have it gone, and the rabbit jumped on the opportunity with zeal. “Oh, poor baby,” she said, leaning in and kissing him on the nose, “you can have your widdle pacifier back, just as soon as we’re done talking. I promise.”
Talikin blushed pink, and shut his eyes in shame. Who the hell was this? What did they want with him? “Hoo aww yew?” the fox stammered, his mouth not yet accustomed to the freedom of movement. His lips felt numb, his jaws hurt, and his tongue was fat and uncooperative, slurring his words to the point that he sounded like the big toddler he had been dressed as, high-pitched and still learning to talk.
The rabbit grinned, and kissed him again, this time on the forehead, “oh, silly me, I haven’t even introduced myself, yet,” she said, rubbing her short muzzle against the side of Talikin’s head, the fox flushing a deeper crimson, “my name is Sky, sweetie, and I’m your caretaker.” As though the reply begged no questions at all, Sky took the opportunity presented while Talikin was still mulling over her words to wrap her strong arms around his shoulders, and pull the fox into a deep, heartfelt hug. He whimpered a bit as his head was pressed against her breasts, and shivered all over. The butterflies were getting worse and worse, like this situation should have been incredibly awkward but was, by some twisted mutation of social norms, somehow totally normal. It scared the fox more than it should, but, left no other choice, he reluctantly wrapped his own fluffy, fleece covered arms around her belly area, more emotionally unstable than he could remember. There were tears forming in the corners of his eyes, but he couldn’t figure why. Why was he so emotional? What was this rabbit… Sky… doing to him?! 
“P-pwease…” Talikin begged, but the words weren’t audible through her breast, and instead she pulled him closer, tighter to her. The embrace seemed to last for several minutes, especially to the quivering, whimpering little soggy fox that was too occupied trying to wrap his head around all the emotions he was being bombarded with to even speak, but eventually Sky acted for him, sighing deeply and pulling away. Talikin was almost afraid to let her go, too uncertain of what would happen to him after. She didn’t leave him entirely as he had imagined, but kept hold of one of his wrists, and, with slow, deliberate caution, led him out of the crib and down onto the rubberized easy-wipe floor. His balance was tenuous at first, all the factors of his kidnapping having made simple stance feel like running an obstacle course, but, with a bit of reliance on the rabbit’s hand, he managed a few wide steps forward, Sky keeping his slow pace and cooing encouragement at him all the while. 
“There, there we go. Look how good you’re getting,” she said in her praising voice, grinning white teeth at him as he waddled across the room. So deep was his concentration at simply staying on his feet, that Talikin didn’t even realize where he was being taken, let alone differ the rabbit’s motives for taking him there. Before he knew it, the silver fox was being guided up onto the laminated plastic countertop on one side of the room, too confused and tired still to disobey, and winced badly as his soaked diaper seat squished against the hard surface, a constant reminder of the humiliating accident he had had. Sky gradually nudged him into position against the wall and had him lay down, Talikin trying to make protest, but his words were either too garbled to be understood or were simply ignored. He took a deep breath, now lying spread legged and exposed in his sleeper, and tried to annunciate with as much sense as he could with his fat, uncooperative mouth. 
“Pweeth…” he started, then buzzed with frustration and tried again, slower this time, “please, what do you want with me?” Talikin let out a sigh of relief. His words were unmistakable, despite having a murmuring, childish sound to them, as though he was just learning to talk. Sky leaned down on him with a sigh.
“All will be explained, in time,” the rabbit said, her joyful façade going out of character briefly, but then it was back again, “for now, let’s get you out of that soggy diaper before you get rash, cutie,” and began motioning for him to roll over onto his belly. 
Talikin’s eyes went wide, shocked, “H-how did you know I… you know…” The fox’s cheeks burned bright red, his white fur doing nothing to conceal them, and even closed his eyes in shame. 
“I didn’t,” the white rabbit said, giggling mischievously, “but I do now.” As though her control had been slighted, and needed to be re-established, Sky took the opportunity to reach over and squeeze the bulging front of the fox’s diaper, the squishing noise audible even through the thick fleece of his sleeper, and over the whimpers of protest that he chimed.
“S-stoppit!” Talikin said weakly.
“Roll over,” Sky commanded, and removed her hand. The fox rolled over onto his belly obediently, not wanting to risk her point being further driven home. The rabbit gently played with a fabric pouch on the back of his neck, then hit it with the magnetic key. She put it back away and unzipped Talikin’s sleeper. He sighed a bit with relief, his earlier panic having raised his body temperature significantly, and, between his fur, the heat of summer, that sleeper and the thick blankets, he had been uncomfortably hot, all cooped up in his crib. The light breeze that graced his bare fur was a welcome newcomer, and calmed him somewhat. He took note of the fact that neither the windows nor the door was currently opened, meaning that the nursery had to be very well ventilated. 
Talikin rolled his head over to the side, about the same height as Sky’s waist, “what are you going to do…” he said, or, rather, started to say, but was silenced suddenly as the rabbit pushed the pacifier, now absent the buckles and straps, back into his mouth.
“No talking during your diaper change, sweetie,” Sky said, grinning at Talikin’s mounting horror. In his daze it hadn’t occurred to him that she meant to keep him in diapers, and not just that one time.
“Daiipah chanth?!” Talikin exclaimed compulsively, and started to push himself up, but a strong hand on his back pinned him to the table.
“And no squirming, I don’t want to restrain you, but I will if you make me,” she pulled what looked like a seat-belt a half foot out of the table, then let it slide back in. Talikin went still, murmuring out his frustration into his pacifier where the rabbit couldn’t hear. Sky seemingly effortlessly maneuvered the fox out of the snug, flannel fabrics, pulling his arms out first and then peeling it off downward. Talikin had been dreading seeing the soaked, plastic backed pamper that he had been stuck in, but was taken aback as he was allowed to pull his hands from the sleeper’s sleeves. She had clearly put a second set of mittens over his paws before putting him in the sleeper with the knowledge that he would have to be taken out of it eventually. 
Cunning, he thought, rolling his eyes, and started to wiggle back over onto his back. He felt terribly exposed like that, not that he could have stopped the rabbit in his sad, sad state, but it felt good at least to be able to see what she was doing, and Sky didn’t stop him. Beads of sweat starting to bead on his forehead, Talikin watched intently as the folds of fleece came away from his fur, and saw for the first time the double thick sleep diaper that he had been forced into. It had blockies and teddy bears all over the printed plastic frontal, and a big, colorful tape securing it snugly in place on either side. There was the beginning of a leak guard at where the waistband met the padding, but it seemed to dissolve into the yellowish splotch that covered the rest of it. Talikin covered his face with his little mittened hands, knowing that some kind of humiliating remark was forthcoming, his estimate of Sky’s character saying that she would grapple with this opportunity to rub his accident in, and use it as justification to keep him in these gross things…
“Maybe next time, sweetie,” Sky said, patting the fox’s furry belly affectionately and smiling with all the warmth of a mother. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get through the night dry, one day.” Her remarks held no scorn or mocking, as he had expected, and this took him completely aback. Talikin peeked out from behind his paws, face hanging with shame. She hadn’t exploited his moment of weakness, and he owed her for that.
Without the waste of another moment, she tore the tapes of his diaper, letting the front fall down, and then slowly edged it out from underneath him. It took Talikin a moment to realize that he was no completely naked, and right in front of a woman, no less! The fox whimpered, his tail doubling in size, and tried to bring his legs together to cover his boy bits, not wanting her to see.
“Hey,” she said, and swatted his hip, “what did I say about squirming?” Her words carried such an obvious air of command that Talikin found himself obeying, spreading his legs again, even before he realized it. Her rebuke didn’t last after the fox obeyed, and she went back to scavenging through the contents of the cupboards below. He knew there was a trash-chute of some kind, there had been an echoing when she tossed his used diaper down there, could that be his way out? “A-ha!” Sky said, clearly finding what she was looking for, and stood up with two diapers. Talikin was concerned at first that she meant to put both on him. “Pick one,” she said, smiling, the fox looking at her like she had asked him to choose his means of torture. They were both of them pretty plain, one with green and with blocks, the other blue, and with stars and planets. He hesitated a moment took long, so Sky prompted him, “I could always get a pink one out, if you prefer,” Talikin’s eyes went wide, and he instantly pointed at the blue one, “excellent choice, cutie-pie.” 
The rabbit bent over and poked Talikin’s belly. It occurred to him that his fur was shorter than normal, even for his summer coat. Had… had they trimmed his fur? Tali didn’t have time to ponder that question, and take a closer look, because Sky immediately set about a pretty routine diaper change, though on a very not routine subject. The fox wiggled as his caretaker took a cool, wet baby wipe to his sensitive nethers, this huge invasion of privacy making him blush to the point that it hurt, and almost drove him to thoughts of violence. Who the hell did this rabbit think she was!? 
With the cleaning over, she wrapped a hand around both of the fox’s thin ankles at once as though he were nothing more than a baby, and lifted his behind up off the table, slipping the thick, though not quite as thick as his previous one, diaper under his rear and setting him back down again. The familiar bulk was a huge improvement over the squishy mess that he had been forced to endure for the past few hours, so he didn’t protest the change. If he had to be in a diaper, it might as well be clean.
Clearly knowing her work, Sky took up a big bottle of talcum powder and powdered his loins, then, in a smooth, practiced motion, brought the front of the diaper up around his waist and taped it securely in place, leaving Talikin nicely padded once more. He wasn’t too happy about it, but Sky clearly didn’t care, and started sifting through drawers on the other side of the changing counter. When she stood, she was holding a baby blue onesie, one of those long T-shirt looking things with the button up crotch that you put on babies so their diapers don’t sag, and so they can’t wiggle out of them. Tali imagined that it would have the same magnetic locks as everything else around here, just to make darn sure everything had the same effect on him. Without any attempt to ask for permission, Sky began forcing the garment upon him, which she did with a scary level of skill. Her mastery implied she had either extensive training in this sort of thing, years of experience, or both. He took note of this, and would have to make deductions from it later on.
“Come come,” Sky said, patting his belly, “all done.” She had buttoned up the onesie around his crotch, then locked it in place with a sewn in buckle with supplemented the snaps. As he had suspected, he would be as helpless to remove this as any two year old, and, almost to the point that he no longer felt embarrassed by the whole ordeal, sighed, and opted to simply play the obedient child for the time being, at least until opportunity to escape presented itself. Who knows? Maybe he could get her to lower her guard.