Chapter Seventeen

A Close Shave

God I hate my aunt…

Hunter thought to himself, as he pulled off the tapes of his night time diaper. It had taken a few weeks for him to realize, but the nightly necessity to pad up then to change, wash himself, and redress in the morning was beginning to cut into his schedule. He knew that it was only a matter of a few minutes a day, but he still had not realized what such a state of being required. The monotony of it was beginning to get to him, and despite the initial thrill of putting on a diaper in the evening, dealing with the aftermath the following day was not always fun.

If it was only a soggy diaper, that would have been enough for him to handle. But now, ever since his accident in the library, he was having the occasional night time mess that sometimes took up to an hour to properly take care of. He would think sparingly of the details of cleaning up his messy fur, but at this rate his bathroom was beginning to run out of shampoo.

He had thought about doing what most cubs had done when they were young, which was having shaven bottocks and nether regions.

There was something about that, however, that still caused him to feel a sense of revulsion. There was some pride in having glossy fur down there, and despite the fact that given his current problem he could not exactly be outside courting furs back to his bedroom, he still did not want to give up his pride.

Still, the fact that he had almost been late to a class because of his droopy drawers was something he knew he needed to do something about.

Hunter stood in his bathroom, the slight hint of his own accident beginning to waft up to his sensitive nostrils. He was going to shower, and take a good one at that, but even as he thought about the ordeal he was about to suffer through his eyes wandered over to the pair of sheers he normally used on his chestfur.

Am I really going to do this…

It was not like Hunter was a frequent visitor at his local gym, nobody would likely find out that he was walking around with a completely bare bottom. The idea disgusted him still, however, as the thought of having his bare skin in contact with his voided bowels in the morning caused his stomach to lurch.

But then I wouldn’t miss class…

Deciding that the best course of action would simply be to address the pressing matter at paw, Hunter reached through his shower curtains and turned the knob to turn on the water. Against the background of water colliding with ceramic, Hunter stripped off his pajama shirt and began the careful process of extracting himself from his soiled night-time padding.

He had started to keep garbage bags in his bathroom for this exact purpose, venturing out in the morning to stop by the dumpster near his apartment complex to deposit his double-bagged morning surprise.

He had done so as casually as he could the first few times, paranoid that someone might discover him in the middle of disposing of his diapers. It was silly, and he knew it, as nobody ever had any reason to inquire what it was exactly that they were throwing away in a black trash bag.

Still, he was always nervous about it.

Stepping into the shower, a breath of relief escaping his muzzle as he felt his fur being weighed down by the pleasantly warm water, he stepped awkwardly bow-legged to allow the stream to hit his backside. He grimaced, the smell becoming particularly pungent for a minute until it had all been washed away.

Lathering his paws, he set to work on his headfur before working his way down. As his thoughts drifted, he thought back to the first time he had accidentally pooped his pants.

Jack’s nostrils had twitched, and he had glanced meaningfully down to the front of Hunter’s pants. The fennec knew there was no hiding it, and had come clean immediately telling Jack that he was having a shitty day and needed to take care of something.

Jack had immediately taken off his coat, smiling ruefully and handed it to Hunter telling him to wrap it around his waist to stifle the smell. Hunter had felt relieved, grateful that his friend was helping him instead of taking this as an opportunity to humiliate him.

He knew what Jack was thinking, and was suspicious of Malissa’s paw having a role in the weasel’s newfound maturity. He was grinning the entire way back to Hunter’s apartment, having decided to keep him company on the way back. Not once did he crack a joke, but he had been in a rather jolly mood. Undoubtedly he was simply working on material he would spring on Hunter if the two were ever having a platonic bickering session.

Hunter knew that this would eventually work its way back into Jack’s mouth when it came to quips at the fennec’s expense, but he was willing to suffer through if Jack had at least enough sense to not make the moment any worse.

Jack had shaken his head, bidding him farewell and waving cheerfully before Hunter had sprinted up the stairs of his apartment and practically leapt into the shower.

It had not been a good day, but at least his friends were being somewhat supportive. He knew that Jack would tell Malissa immediately, and was beginning to wonder when the two would inquire when he was considering seeking medical attention.

He had an anecdote ready, something about his particular family having an unlucky set of fennec genes that trended towards incontinence. Still, bowel incontinence was an entirely different beast compared to urinary.

Something about the two sphincters being weak or something… Vestigial marking behaviors? Nah, they’ll never buy that…

Satisfied with his headfur, Hunter set to work lathering up his nether regions. A few minutes later, he was cleaned and rinsed but even then he remained in the shower. He peaked through his shower curtain, staring out at the pair of clippers resting on top of his bathroom sink.

I can’t believe I’m doing this…

Reaching out with a dripping paw, he clasped at the razor and set to work cleaning up his bottom and front as best as he could without nicking himself.

He walked out later that morning to his class, several pieces of toilet paper stuck to his ass that he tried his absolute best to push out of his mind.

𓁥 𓁢 𓐭

Hunter thought about the message he had read on DaringTare.com that morning as he sat in class, replaying the single line over and over.

Postponed a week… Great… More time to crap myself while I sleep…

He was in a sour mood, having felt somewhat wary about the fact that his reality had not warped significantly aside from his smelly mornings. Hunter had decided that interacting with the brooch as little as possible was likely the best course of action, after having taken a photo of it to study its hieroglyphs and putting it away. He had managed to make no sense of the inscriptions on the piece of jewelry, other than they appeared to be dedicated to protecting its wearer to some degree.

Something to do with life… But what?

He had no clue, and he was not too keen on reexamining the object. Still, maybe if he showed it to the bounty hunter when he decided it was time for them to meet again he could make heads or tales of it.

The fennec had a feeling that the investigation into what had happened to his aunt was not going well, mostly from how terse the messages from the badger had been.

Hunter glanced down at his laptop, and saw that a message from Malissa was pending. Opening it, he read through her message while doing his best to appear as if he were still taking notes on what the professor was saying.

So you gonna tell me what’s up or are you trying to keep things discrete?

Hunter had been expecting this, and he replied a minute later after jotting down a few lines in his notes.

I’m seeing a doctor about it, he’s running some genetic tests to see if it's hereditary.

Malissa replied almost immediately.

So like, has this happened before?

Do I lie?

Hunter considered, having felt awful about lying before even though he was given every indication from his friends that they could be trusted. He could not tell them the whole truth, they would think he was losing it. He had to come up with a half-lie, something that was believable but would keep them from thinking he needed to take a gap semester to regain his marbles.

I was late for potty-training even as a kid, but no this has been a recent development. Pissing me off tbh.

A bubble popped up indicating that Malissa was typing back, followed promptly by her message.

I think you meant ‘me pissing’ but go off sister.

Hunter was quick to reply.

Since when is your name Jack?

The fennec shook his head, not realizing that his movement was likely to be seen by his professor. He looked up to receive a steely eyed glint from the puma that was at the front of the classroom, and he felt his face redden.

He averted his gaze, switching back to his notes for a few minutes as he did his best to pay attention. After he felt like he could steal a glance back as his direct messenger, Malissa’s response was waiting for him.

He’s beginning to rub off on me isn’t he? Still, figured I’d keep this light. My cousin is incontinent by the way, I could ask him if he has any advice without mentioning you if you like. I’ll take the L if he thinks it’s me, lol.

Hunter would have smiled gratefully if he were not trying to keep his muzzle as blank as possible. Still, his tail swished behind him once indicating his happiness. He felt grateful that Malissa was being supportive, he needed it more than he had initially realized.

It had been lonely having to deal with this issue on his own, if only she knew the truth that he was not suffering from a medical malady but an ancient Egyptian curse his aunt had so generously given to him to deal with.

Oh the words I would have to say to her if I ever met her…

He thought grimly, the corner of his muzzle tightening as he tabbed back to his notes. His mother had always seemed rather fond of her, even if there was always a hint of sadness to the fact that they rarely saw each other. Whatever this cheetah was, he was sure that she was not worth the time his mother spent missing her.

Hunter’s nostrils flared, deciding that he should actually focus on the material for the class he was currently in. He set a reminder on his computer to ask Malissa to inquire with her cousin, as that might actually be useful. He did not feel like looking up any material on the internet to deal with his current problem, as he was sure that whatever the curse was it would be paying close attention to his internet history.

The last thing he needed to do was to give it any new ideas.

For what must have been the thirtieth time that day, Hunter stopped himself from reaching back and scratching his behind. He had not shaved well enough apparently, because he had been itching that entire day.

Chapter Sixteen

The Christmas Party

14 years earlier…

Agatha Tare gazed out at the motley collection of furs that milled about her. She noted a group of mildly overweight men eyeing the eggnog in the corner, glancing from each other to their wives as if daring each other to make the first move.

The cheetah allowed herself a small smile of amusement, her earlier sense of annoyance dissipating as she reminded herself that she should be grateful for such small social details of regular civilian life.

Better than wondering whether the blue-eyed skink in front of you is hiding a shink in his drawers…

Her grin broadened. Sure, she was more than a little bored of the idle small-talk she was forced to endure. None of the people had anything tangible to offer her other than small, impersonal compliments about her stature for her age. But family was family, and her niece had insisted in multiple letters that she make the trip home for the holidays.

As if sensing that her Aunt was thinking about her, a petit fennec maneuvered her way past to the bears that were now helping themselves to the aforementioned eggnog while doing their best to act as casual as possible.

“Auntie.”

Camilla beamed, the fennec’s eyes sparkling the same shade of emerald as the cheetahs. It was their little joke, that despite the vast genetic difference in their respective species that it was they and only they that were actually related. Agatha had been adopted, a fact that she undoubtedly was sure had spawned her aptitude for maintaining her cool while in spaces she did not belong.

Her family had done their best to include her, but to be a female cat that towered above her vulpine relations was an aspect of her physiology that always served to remind her that she did not belong.

But that was decades ago.

Still, it was only with Camilla that she did not feel as if she were an alien living amongst dwarves.

“Sweetheart, it’s good to see you.”

The two embraced, several of the other furs giving them space as even those who met Agatha at eye level found her mildly intimidating. Perhaps it was her choice of dress, a dazzlingly green dress held together by a brooch on her upper left breast. The opals sparkled in the radiance given off the Christmas tree lights, giving the item an alluringly dangerous aura.

“You don’t even know how happy I am that you were able to make it, how was the flight?”

Agatha shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment and smiling closed-lipped. Camilla was quick on the uptake.

“Did they put you in the cargo hold again?”

Agatha put an offended paw on her chest, recoiling slightly as she pretended to appear insulted.

“That’s rich coming from someone who would fit comfortably in the overhead luggage compartment.”

Camilla beamed, twisting her shoulders from side to side while clasping her paws in front of her. It was her adorable face, one she knew that the cheetah had an immense soft spot for.

“They say I’m so light I actually help keep the aircraft aloft!”

Agatha laughed, a sharp high pitched bark coming from her throat as her shoulders shook. It was an alarming sound, rich with mirth to cause the other houseguests to falter in their respective conversations. The two ignored them, uncaring that their conversation was drawing attention.

The cheetah felt her sense of boredom disappear entirely, forgotten now that she was in the presence of one of the few family members she truly loved. As she felt warmth blooming in her face, her mind darted back to the latest mention in Camilla’s letters.

“Well, are you going to introduce us?”

Camilla’s eyes blanked for a moment, before lighting up in recognition of what Agatha was insinuating. She yipped, excitedly nodding before nodding over towards the direction of the other room.

“Yes, of course! We’ve given him a Christmas present to open early, he’s in his bedroom.”

After Camilla excused herself from a guest that was inquiring if there was any more eggnog available, the fennec guided the cheetah through the hall and through an open bedroom door.

A small kit was sitting cross-legged on the floor, currently in the midst of constructing a miniature LEGO set and completely occupied by the task. “Hunter sweetheart, I’d like you to meet your Great Aunt.”

The kit looked up, his eyes wide with curiosity as he looked at the cheetah. He appeared a bit unsure at first, the intimidating visage of the African cat causing him some pause in what to say next. A second later, however, he recovered and spoke up.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Camilla beamed, happy that her son had remembered his manners. Closed-lipped, Agatha smiled back and nodded a greeting while blinking once. She studied him for a moment, noting that she appeared the spitting image of his mother, save for his eyes.

He met her gaze, raising her degree of respect for him as he appeared relatively comfortable with someone that was a good five times his own height.

He’ll do.

She thought to herself, raising a paw reflexively to her brooch and adjusting it. Camilla continued to speak, introducing Agatha.

“This is Auntie Tare, she’s an Egyptologist situated in Egypt if you’ll believe it.”

Chortling, the fennec nudged the cheetah in the side and gave her a look. Agatha got the message, and stooped down to peer at the half-constructed pile of plastic bricks that Hunter was working on.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on there, Hunter?”

His eyes lighting up, the kidfur launched into a detailed explanation as to what he was trying to make. Of all things, it was a replica of the tomb of Tutankhamen. Agatha found herself rather intrigued by the spirit and vocabulary of the little fennec, surprised by the fact that she was more interested in what he had to say about his construction set than the droning on of the adults she had left behind.

Camilla eventually excused herself, pleased to see that the two appeared to be bonding almost immediately. Agatha found herself sitting cross-legged beside Hunter, aiding in the construction of the LEGO set. Hunter was quite pleased to have a partner in his project, and eagerly handed over several of the bricks for her to work on in parallel to him.

The cheetah was enjoying herself, though she would not have predicted this. Normally she was dismissive of children, but there was something special about spending time with one that she was related to. She found him cute, and realized that she actually cared for him in the same manner she cared for her niece Camilla.

Agatha was a hardy beast, and only a few times in her life had she actually found any affection for anyone else. But Hunter was different, small and young as he was, she found that she was already beginning to feel proud to be able to call herself his Aunt.

Within the hour, they had completed the LEGO set. Raising a paw up, Agatha’s voice caught in her throat at the awkwardness at her attempt to bond with the little fox.

But Hunter was quick on the uptake, smacking it gently with his own; the little fennec smiled toothily at his aunt, pleased by the high five.

“Very good Hunter, this looks just like the real thing!”

She was not lying either, whoever had designed the set clearly had studied the schematics of the ancient tomb themselves. Hunter replied with excitement in his voice.

“Have you been there? Momma mentioned that you worked with Egyptians.”

Dead ones, mostly. Or soon to be.

Agatha thought grimly to herself, but quickly nodded serenely after having decided that shielding this young fox was now her duty.

“Indeed I do, I’ve actually seen a mummy before in real life as well.”

“A mummy! I’ve got one of those!”

Agatha laughed. He really had a spark in his head, undoubtedly inherited from his mother. The cheetah could hardly believe herself, she was actually enjoying spending time with her nephew. Her heart hurt, the same way it hurt whenever she thought about how it was only Camilla who had ever understood her.

The regal cheetah had reached a decision, even as she launched into a family friendly version of one of her adventures she had become resolute in her latest desire.

He would inherit her gifts. This little kit, young as he was, had shown no fear in connecting with her despite the fact that she always seemed to stand out. He was deserving of her great feats, and she would do everything in her power to ensure that his life was a long and happy one.

Almost too soon, Camilla was at the door appearing exceptionally pleased. She spoke, powdered sugar on her apron.

“Hunter, would you and Auntie Tare like some gingerbread cookies? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

Hunter looked to Agatha, his eyes wide with excitement and Agatha found that she could not have said no even if she had wanted to.

“Make sure you leave some for Santa Claws”

She replied with a smile, her teeth showing now as her face relaxed. As Hunter practically leapt to his feat, grabbing his aunt by the paw and pulling her out of his bedroom, Camilla and Agatha exchanged a quick look.

Camilla appeared slightly amused at how much Agatha was allowing herself to show that she was having fun. But for once, the cheetah did not have a care in the world as to what people were judging her for. She was spending time with her nephew, a small window of her life she knew she would treasure for the rest of her life.

She could only hope that Hunter would remember her as fondly as she would him.

Chapter Eighteen

Sublime

The softest of beds always arrive in the morning when it is time to leave them, but Hunter had no reason that day to leave the confines of his guard-railed bed that day. Having finished up a busy week of academic obligations, and with finals just under three weeks away, Hunter had decided to schedule some time for himself and only for himself.

It was Saturday, and dawn had just broken as Hunter cracked open one eye to see whether the sun had broken through his shades yet. Not quite, and given the circumstances of his underpants Hunter saw no reason to pull himself out from the comfort of his covers. He moved his thigh, attempting to half-heartedly gauge how full his night time diaper was from his wettings. The fennec felt the absorbent undergarment squish softly against him, his freshly shaven area feeling as if it were enveloped in a soft, warm sponge.

Despite the initial itching, Hunter had gone over his handiwork a few more times until he was as smooth as a well polished piece of sea glass. Given the fact that he was now wearing pull-ups every day and diapers at night, he had no concern about his regular underwear causing him discomfort against his exposed skin.

In fact, Hunter pondered to himself as he gave his legs another squeeze, feeling the warmth of his wet padding press up against him, he had not had to do a laundry for his underwear in several weeks.

The curse had continued to supply him with a generous amount of diapers, all displaying his favorite cutesy fuzzy characters in addition to becoming accustomed to a general theme.

His night time diapers were covered in sleepy bears, soft kittens, and snoozing puppy dogs. With several stars on the front leading all the way up to the back to serve as wetness indicators, he had grown fond of their friendly visage when he finally retired for the night.

His pull-ups were significantly more dynamic. Illustrated with happy little kits heading out for a day at the beach, or sliding down a colorful slide, their diapers peeking out from their shorts or bulging slightly from their shortfalls. The curse was intent on continuously reminding him of his diapered state, but despite the occasional spell of anxiety that his reality would warp the brooch appeared content enough to leave him alone when he was properly diapered.

Although, there had been one episode where he had not avoided public embarrassment. Having taken the bus to visit the off-site area of his college campus for research purposes, he had woken up on the bus having missed his stop, and with several furs giving him odd glances.

At first he had stared back, unsure of why they were giving him so much attention. It had stressed him out a little, and it was only a minute later when he realized that he had been coping with the stress by suckling eagerly on the pacifier lodged in his muzzle.

His face had burned, he could still remember just how profoundly he had blushed. Never before was he so flustered and caught off guard than when he realized that he had been sleeping on a public transit system with a binky in his mouth. Of course, he had no idea how it had gotten there in the first place. Whether the curse had compelled him to reach inside of his backpack mid-sleep and pull the object out after manifesting it or if it had simply popped into existence where he found it was beyond him.

He had hastily departed the bus at the next stop, pulling out his phone and frantically opening up the GPS application to see where he was. Only a mile away, a short walk if anything. He had been lucky, as had he slept even fifteen minutes longer he would have had triple that length to traverse.

It was only half a mile walking back through the dim streets did he finally remember to yank the pacifier out of his mouth.

He had been caught off guard once more, as the moment the plastic rubber bulb left between his lips he had felt unreasonably upset. He had felt his eyes getting watery and his lips began to quiver. It passed after only a moment, but he still remembered viscerally how close he had been to bawling his eyes out because he no longer had that feeling of security.

He had managed to shrug it off, cramming the pacifier into his pocket and making it back to his place just before his bedtime.

It had taken all of his might to put on his diaper that evening and restrain himself from putting the pacifier back in. He had managed it in the end, but it was only upon recalling the confusion in the faces of the furs around him that kept him from replacing it back into his maw.

I really should be focusing on relaxing now…

Hunter chided himself internally, turning over to hug one his new and decidedly favorite stuffed animal. It was rather simple, a brown and beige paw with dark brown hearts on the ends of his paws. He had not known where the inspiration for his name came from exactly, but upon seeing him in a store front he had immediately named him, “Stitches.”

Stitches was the best size for him to embrace in his arms, not too big that it felt awkward and soft enough that he could press him up against his chest without feeling uncomfortable.

He had had a dream the following night after purchasing Stitches where the plush had become animated. Not only that, but the little bear appeared very intent on taking care of the little Kit. He had patted him affectionately on his diapered bottom, held a bottle up to his lips, and lovingly placed a pacifier in his muzzle before coaxing him into his crib for an afternoon nap.

Hunter still remembered that scene, as of all of the regressive dreams he had been having lately that one was the most pleasant. There was no brooch, no worry of discovery, simply a state of mind where the only thing he cared about was having something warm and yummy in his tummy, and a soft place to lay his head alongside Stitches.

The fennec could feel himself slipping into that mindset now, only half away from the fact that he was peeing himself. His mind was only aware of the blissful ignorance of the outside world in that dream, where his favorite plush bear was responsible for everything that he needed.

Lost in his reverie, Hunter turned over once more before mumbling something unintelligible into his pillow. His stomach gurgled, but he hardly noticed as he rubbed his muzzle against Stitches’ soft fur. He felt as if there was something that he had forgotten about, but was unsure exactly what it was.

Unnoticed by the fennec, his lower abdomen had relaxed, coinciding with his tail flagging underneath the covers. A moment later, the muffled sound of flatulence escaped his backside before being shortly followed by a much deeper, wetter sound. Suddenly, Hunter heaved a sigh of relief having felt a pressure lift off of him. The backside of his wet night-time diaper had expanded somewhat, bulging out slightly to accommodate the addition he had just made to his padded backseat.

Hunter rested for a few minutes longer, a small smile of pleasure spreading on his muzzle as his sense of comfort increased significantly.

It took his nose twitching twice at the hint of an offensive scent for his eyes to shoot wide open in realization.

He swore, his feelings of morning bliss forgotten as he tore the covers off of himself.

As he had suspected, he had just willingly relieved his bowels into his night-time padding, which now appeared in desperate need of a change. He cringed slightly, feeling the softness of his accident pressing up against his buttocks from having turned around on his back.

Sighing, Hunter gingerly heaved himself over the railing of his bed, imagining just how childish he must look with his sagging diaper swinging in the air for all to see. In that moment, the front of his sodden padding pressed against him as it was pushed upwards by the wooden raid underneath him, Hunter felt the initial state of bliss wash over him.

He toppled over onto the carpet of his bedroom, giggling to himself as he felt himself land on his messy bottom. He cooed to himself, his face spreading into an unworried smile as he rocked forwards and backwards gently, kneading the contents of his diaper against himself.

He had never felt something as comfortable and freeing before this sensation, utterly uncaring about the clean-up that was to follow shortly as he had simply forgotten about it. As the sunlight began to pour into his room, he opened his mouth ina soft gasp as the iridescent beauty of it.

He was mesmerized, aware only of the warmth and squish of his night-time diaper beneath him and the dazzling array of light coming through his window to kiss him gently on the fur of his cheeks. Hunter was content, his eyelids half closed from the glare, but in part from the softness pressing up against his skin underneath him.

Hunter felt that one of his paws was in his muzzle, and he suckled contentedly on them. It was not as pleasant as the pacifier that had been in his mouth, but it would do.

The… Pacifier… Huh!

With a jolt, Hunter started having woken up from his waking dream. Having recalled his public incident a few nights prior, reality had come crashing back in. He looked around, confused as to why he was sitting on the ground.

He looked down, seeing that the stars on the front of his padding had completely disappeared. The front was swollen, with a yellowish tinge coming through the otherwise white covering. It took him a second to realize what he had done, shifting about, he felt that his accident had crept up to the front of his diaper as well.

He was utterly caked, and had been giddy as ever to sit about in a diaper that was now in desperate need of changing.

Instead of wallowing in his momentary lapse, the fox picked himself up and stood awkwardly. Shuffling bow-legged towards the doorway as not to make the situation any worse.

I’m going to shower for ten years…

He thought grimly to himself, arriving inside of his bathroom to reach through his shower curtain to turn the knob to its highest heat setting.