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30-07-2009
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#1 (permalink) |
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Regular
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Fantasy's Perfection
This is my first babyfur story, hope you enjoy. After you read it, constructive critiscism is appreciated.
--------------- Fantasy’s Perfection I’ve heard that one’s past defines their present and their self. So, what does it mean when you forget your past? Do you lose who you are? Do you lose control of your present? Except, why is that the one moment you wish to forget most, is ingrained into your body and maybe even into your soul? No matter how many days pass and no matter how hazy all other memories become, why must that one moment be forever burned into my very being? These questions have haunted my nights and turned any dream to a nightmare. After the three months that passed after that night and after my memories of the past faded, the farthest I can remember was that one moment that led to that night. I watched the landscape zip by as I pressed down on the gas pedal. The car accelerated and the scenery turned into a blur. I didn’t care where I was going; all I cared about was getting as far away from that place and those people as possible. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel. “Damn damn damn!” I cursed to myself between clenched teeth. I leaned my head on the steering wheel still increasing speed. It’s not like it matters whether I look away from the road or not, no one was on the road this late. At least that’s what I thought. I noticed a light in front of me, but by the time I noticed and looked up it was already too late, right in front of me was a large eighteen-wheeler. The driver must have tried to swerve out of the way, because I missed the front of it but instead collided with its cargo. In that instant, all I remember was piercing pain and blood clouding my vision. Through the blood, I assume was dripping from my head over my eyes, I saw a white light. It enveloped my body with warmth as one fleeting thought went through my mind, Am I going to die? Just as suddenly as I was enveloped by light, was it overtaken by darkness and the warmth snatched away. Enshrouded by darkness, in the abyss known as death, I accepted my fate and all tension and pain from before was lifted from my body. Inwardly I laughed and wondered, Will I go to Heaven or Hell, or maybe this is Hell, an eternity in darkness. Except if this is Hell, why do I feel warm? I did feel warm once again. It was a cozy kind of warm, and it made me feel oddly secure. At that moment, a glimmer of light crept under my eyelids. Slowly I opened my eyes, but instead of seeing the car I assumed I died in, I was in a large room. I looked toward the source of the light, and I saw a window with blue curtains. Though that wasn’t the only thing that caught my eye. In my line of vision from me to the window were white bars, but they didn’t look like they were made of metal. They looked as if they were wood, but even so they gave off a secure feeling. As though mesmerized, I moved my arm to try and touch it. I felt my arm come out from under what I assumed was a blanket that was draped over my body. Reaching for the bars, I saw what looked like a blue-fleece sleeve covering my arm. My hand inched closer to the bars, except it wasn’t my hand. A look of terror dawned on my face as I stared at my “hand”. It had to be my hand, because could feel it, but it didn’t look like the hand I had before. My hand was a peach color, with long fingers, and covered in flesh, but this “hand” was covered in a white fur with short, chubby digits. I don’t even think I could call it a “hand”, it looked more like an animal’s paw. A wave of terror rushed through my body and a single thought crept into my mind, If my hand looks like this, what about the rest of me? Kicking off the blanket and sitting up, I quickly looked over my body. Both my hands and feet were now snow-white paws. Gulping and trembling, I felt my face and realized I had a muzzle and pointed ears. Looking behind me, I saw a tail fidgeting with anxiety behind me. Not only was I now covered in fur, but that blue-fleece sleeve was apparently attached to a blue-fleece sleeper. That, plus the blanket, must have been the warmth I felt before. The sleeper seemed to fit snuggly to my body, except for a slight bulge around my crotch region. Slowly, I brought my hand to it and poked at it. It did two things as it was poked, it crinkled and it squished. I bit my tongue to keep myself from crying out. Not only was I in a diaper, but I had apparently wet in. It all came crashing down and my eyes widened. The room wasn’t larger, I was just smaller, and the bars were part of a crib. If I’m smaller, in a crib and a diaper…then that means I’m a… I couldn’t even finish the thought before I began to hyperventilate and feel tears beginning to sting my eyes. No matter what I did I couldn’t stop myself, as the frustration and anxiety became too much and the tears were followed by whimpering. The sound of a door creaking open drowned out the whimpering and acted as enough of a distraction that I was able to pull myself together, even though all I could do was stop the whimpering. Looking toward the noise, I saw a tall fox standing in the doorway, but instead of standing on all fours, she was standing upright the same way a human would. She was pure white, with short white hair, a slim physique, and looked as though she was in her mid-twenties. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a green tank top. I said “she”, because, even though she was slim, she had distinguishable breasts under her shirt. She must have seen me crying, because she immediately rushed over. Delicately she picked me up and cradled me in her arms, reinforcing that I had become smaller. “What’s wrong little guy?” she asked in a soft, soothing voice. She must have felt the wet diaper through the sleeper, because she gave me a knowing smile and moved over to, what I assumed, was a changing table. I tried my best to wriggle and squirm out of her grip and away from the table, to no avail. Quickly and skillfully, she removed the sleeper and proceeded to change me. The term “little guy” had struck me like a ton of bricks, but to have some woman I didn’t know change a diaper that I had apparently wet was a painful blow that got my blood to boil. As my anger built up, I selected a few choice words to use, but when I opened my mouth to some rude remarks at her, all that came out was an incoherent mix of a babyish lisp and a baby’s gurgle. To which, all she did was smile at me and responded with, “You’re such a cute little baby.” She then opened the wet diaper, causing a chill against my wet skin…err fur. Instinctively I tried to cover my naked self, but instead of my hands covering myself, my tail covered the lower portion of my body. Except this didn’t act as much of a hindrance in her work, she easily brushed it aside and lifted me up by my legs to remove the diaper from under me. At my second attempt to cover myself, she just brushed my tail away and started to use a wipe on my lower region. Once again she lifted me up by my legs, but this time she slid a new diaper under me. I couldn’t take anymore of this humiliation, so I began to thrash about, as best this new tiny body could muster. I half expected her to be angry, to give up, to show anger in some shape or form, but all she did was place her paw on stomach and gently rub in a small circle. I assumed this was her way of trying to calm me, and as oddly as that sounds, it did just that. My thrashing limps slowed and eventually stopped. My eyes closed in contentment, as a delicate and sweet aroma entered my nostrils. A smile, though a tiny one, crept across my face…err muzzle. It wasn’t till she stopped and triumphantly stated, “There, now you’re snuggly in a new diaper.” My eyes had burst open at that remark and I looked to confirm I was indeed in another diaper, snuggly attached to my lower body. Giving a quick sniff of the air, I found that the aroma was coming from my diaper and concluded it must have been baby powder. Looking around the changing table, I saw a bottle marked baby powder, which confirmed it. As I contemplated over that mystery, a soft rustling came from across the room. Turning my gaze from the bottle of baby powder toward the source of the sound, I saw the woman going through the middle drawer of a dresser. She had a look of deep concentration on her face, as if she were looking for some singular piece that kept eluding her. Digging deeper, she suddenly jumped up in excitement. With a smile on her face that said she had found that singular piece, she quickly walked back to the changing table. As she drew closer I saw what it was that she was holding; it was a blue onsie with an orange smiling fox on it. For some reason I felt drawn to the fox and reached out for it. The woman must have taken that as I a sign I liked it, because, before I knew it, she had slipped it on me over my head, guided my arms through the armholes, and finished with buttoning the bottom. “There, now you look like so much cuter!” she exclaimed happily, before swiftly lifting me up and cradling me in her arms once again. This time, since I didn’t have to focus on not crying, I focused all my energy on squirming out of her hold. She easily subdued my efforts, but in attempt I noticed a mirror by what I assumed was the closet. I thought this would be an opportune time to see what exactly had become of his body. Shifting in her arms, I stared up at her and tried to tell her I wanted to look in the mirror, but all that came out was more gibberish. She just smiled down at me and innocently asked, “What is it?” Trying once again, but with the same results. Getting frustrated, I took a deep breath and concentrated on a singular word trying my best to form the word in a coherent manner. All that escaped my lips was “Miwa”, and not knowing whether she’d understand or not, I tried pointed towards the mirror. “Do you want the mirror?” she asked, in that condescending tone adults use for infants. Blushing, but at least having her understand, I nodded. Smiling down at me, she walked over to the mirror and set me down. I smirked at having finally been set down, but my moment of triumph abruptly ended, when my knees began to wobble and buckle beneath me. Stumbling forward, I placed a paw on the mirror to help stabilize myself. Regaining my footing, I sighed in relief, but caught my breath as I looked upon the visage that was my reflection. Last edited by NoahKokoro; 30-07-2009 at 09:51 PM. |
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4 Weeks Ago
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#6 (permalink) |
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Regular
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Fantasy’s Perfection Part 2 As I gazed at my reflection, I couldn’t recognize even a trace of humanity, let alone my former self. What gazed back at me appeared to be a fox just like that woman, only smaller. My face was covered in snow-white fur with short white hair. As I had felt earlier, I had a muzzle and pointed ears on top of my head and my arms and legs were covered with white fur, and I had a fluffy tail lying limp behind me. My cheeks and body looked disproportionally chubby. My breathing grew laborious as I looked over my body, trying to find some way to rationalize this deformity. Beating faster and faster, my heart raced along side my mind as I searched for someway to explain this, the beating pounding in my ears. Coming to no plausible conclusion my heart and breathing fell silent. Once the beating in my ears stopped, I heard someone speak. It sounded distant, so far away. “Noah!” I snapped back to reality as that name rang through my ears. Distraught I turned toward the fox woman who had said that name. “Are you okay Noah?” she asked, her face filled with worry. Noah? Does she mean me? But my name isn’t Noah it’s… Before completing the thought a scorching pain pierced my head, involuntarily I fell to my knees and whimpered. My hands clutched my head trying to ease the pain, but to no avail. Seeing me in pain, once again the woman picked me up and cradled me in her arms. As I struggled to rid myself of the pain, my paw felt a piece of paper between her arms and myself. Out of the corner of my eyes I could make out the letters Noa. Believing this might hold the key to understanding how I arrived in this place I knew I needed whatever was on that paper. Instantly I began struggling in her arms, kicking my legs and pushing at her arms. Apparently I struggled too well, because I slipped out of her arms and plummeted towards the ground beneath. Fortunately she had amazingly adept reflexes as she caught me before I hit the ground, covertly I slipped the paper into the onsie as she sighed in relief. Shifting me so I was once again being cradled, she tightened her grip on me, intent on preventing another near mishap. Reassured that I wouldn’t be able to struggle out of her grip, she headed out of the nursery into a white painted hallway with scattered pictures here and there. There were four doors in the hallway, the one we exited was on the right side and all the others were closed. She walked at a steady pace, beaming with joy for some reason, but I couldn’t discern what it could be. Drawn out of curiosity, I looked at the pictures hoping they might hold a clue to my deformity. Evidently I wasn’t that lucky. The pictures consisted of the woman and a male, I assumed, fox standing together in front of varying sceneries, from a forest to in front of a castle to a beach and so on. It was obvious that the two were a couple, how close I couldn’t tell. Till it dawned on me that in the pictures and on the left hand of the hand supporting me she bore a ring, which meant that man was her husband. There was one other picture that blatantly stood out from the others. It was yet another picture of the couple, except the woman had a larger and rounder belly. It was obvious that she was pregnant and most likely within her second or third trimester, I couldn’t say for sure. Beyond the hallway was a decently sized living room: complete with a couch, a large television, a coffee table in front of the couch, what looked like a toy box, an entrance to a dining room, beyond which I assumed was the kitchen, and a door that looked like it led outside, but opposite to the entrance to the dining room was a door of dark and weathered oak. The door looked out of place, a solitary ancient gateway surrounded by modern conveniences that bestowed the door with a foreboding presence that scrutinized my every movement. Instinctively I buried myself deeper into the woman’s arms, much to her pleasure as she smiled down at me. “Well little guy, I think it’s about time for some lunch. Wait here and be a good boy, okay?” she said with a condescending tone as she placed me on the couch. Before I could interject, my stomach had the least opportune timing as it growled in response. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed as she headed through the dining room, confirming that a kitchen was beyond. Left alone, I took this opportunity to closely study my surroundings. Seeing nothing unusual or different from any other living room I’ve seen before, besides some padding on the corners of the coffee table. It felt questionable whether I was in some other world or just down the street from my house, due to the familiarity of the furniture in the room and the nursery to that that could be seen in any middle class house. Shifting my body as I looked about the room caused a crinkle to emit from my chest. My eyes shot down to where I had hidden the paper. My eyes widened with elation as I remembered that this paper might hold the key to everything. Hurriedly I pulled the paper out of the onsie. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as my eyes widened further. It wasn’t just those three letters that I recognized, everything on the paper was written in english. How could it be in english? Then again, wasn’t that woman speaking english? My mind raced from these realizations, as my paws clenched the paper. Shaking these thoughts away, I knew that what I needed to worry about was what was written on the paper. Loosening my grip, I scanned over the writing. My teeth clenched as my blood boiled and I seethed, I assume my facial features resembled that of an animal “baring its fangs,” as I read the damned paper! What was written was as followed: Name: Noah Species: Alopex Lagopus (Arctic Fox) Age: 2 Favorite Color: Blue Favorite Food: Steak Favorite Movie: The Fox and the Hound Favorite Toy: Balls Personality: Shy/Adventurous Fears: Insects and Dark Allergies: None My thoughts were clouded with murderous intent and my sight was red. Damn it! I’ll kill whoever did this to me! These thoughts and more explicit ones ran through my mind. It was no longer about the indignity of being a toddler again or having some woman I’d never met taking care of me. Whoever did this to me, this damned thing to my body, didn’t pick someone at random nor was this some freak accident of nature or the will of some vindictive god! They were specifically targeting me, and the proof is that them did their damned research that went as far back as my childhood fears and personality. Out of pure fury, my fist crumpled the damned paper and threw it with all my strength. Adding only to my rage, the paper, as one would expect, didn’t go far and delicately landed on the ground not even a foot away. Enraged, I crawled to the edge of the couch and glared at the paper, but from my new perspective the floor was further down than I thought it would be. Not caring about the height, I climbed down from the couch with near success, besides losing my balance and falling on my padded bottom. Still driven by fury, I wobbled over to the paper and lifted my leg to stamp that damned paper into oblivion. I brought my foot down with all the force my new body could muster, but abruptly stopped as some writing caught my eye, causing me to fall over. Unfazed, I quickly scrambled to the paper and grabbed it. I looked over writing I hadn’t seen before. Turning it in my paw revealed there was a back with writing. Except this writing didn’t infuriate me, in fact it had the opposite effect. We are deeply sorry to hear of your lose and wish to extend our most deep condolences. No expectant mother should have to suffer what you did. It’s a tragedy that he couldn’t come into this world. Upon hearing of your sorrow and from the need to find this little kit a loving home, we believed that he might be a great addition to your family. We sincerely hope that you and your husband consider adopting this it into your loving care. This was written on the paper and as I read over it all fury left me. There were water stains on the paper, as though someone was weeping as they read the message. My heart sank as I re-read “It’s a tragedy that he couldn’t come into this world.” Hesitantly I turned my sorrow filled eyes at the picture in the hallway, which was barely visible at the angle I was sitting. It was the picture of the woman when she was pregnant. All I could do was chuckle softly and bitterly at a, now obvious, realization. So, that’s why there was a fully stocked nursery. This is the end of the second part. My only concern is whether or not I added that last part too soon. I wonder whether I should have waited to reaveal that about the woman. Last edited by NoahKokoro; 4 Weeks Ago at 05:08 AM. |
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