Jamie bolted around another corner. A hallway identical to the one he had just come from loomed before him. His fur bristled. His heart thundered. The asylum was built like a labyrinth with the corridors all branching and twisting back onto themselves. Even after a month trapped inside of it, the fox still hadn’t learned its layout. He could have been running in circles for all he knew.

It was the dead of night. There was little in the way of staff around at that late hour, so the lights were dimmed. Some faulty bulbs flickered ominously, making the vulpine feel like he was on the set of a horror film. Given the risk he was taking, he might as well be. He pushed past a couple of heavy doors. He had to scramble to find the right key on his keyring for each lock. His paws trembled so badly that he dropped them to the floor with a clatter more than once. After another couple of turns, the main lobby finally appeared ahead of him at the end of a long hallway.

Escape was within reach! He picked up his pace, padding across the floor as swiftly as he could without risking attracting unwanted attention.

When he was almost to the reception desk when a door creaked open and a pair of anthros stepped out, obstructing his path. It was Razi, his equine tormentor, and the mysterious director of the facility, an aging goat with a stern gaze. Of all the anthros to run into, it was possibly the worst duo he could imagine.

The fox stumbled to a halt. Despite wanting nothing more than to sprint toward freedom, he knew that he had to stick to his plan. Jamie had stolen a nurse’s outfit. Unfortunately it was a female one, but he worked with what he could get his paws on. He had to trust that his disguise would hold up to casual scrutiny. He smoothed out his knee-length white skirt and straightened his matching cap and blouse. The prisoner tightened his grasp on the empty clipboard he had snagged to complete the ensemble. He held it in front of his chest to help hide his lack of cleavage, and kept his muzzle tucked low. He doubted that the director would recognize him- they had only spoken once and that was many weeks ago- but the stallion had made it his personal mission to taunt him daily.

All he had to do was confidently stride past them like his shift was over and he would be free. The vulpine steeled himself, forced a shy smile while angling his face away from them, and started to walk their direction. An alarm suddenly sounded. Its wail echoed as the gloom of the building was suddenly replaced by the angry glare of flashing crimson lights. After a quick glimpse upward, Jamie attempted to keep his composure as he rushed past.

The anthros gave him quizzical glances as he rushed past, but he froze in place when he heard the caprine speak.

“Now, now, now, my dear. You know the rules: Everyone must be tested before they leave. Especially at times like these.”

Jamie swallowed nervously.

“Raindrop.”

The director enunciated each syllable, somehow drawing out the word far longer than should be possible.

The hypnotic suggestion gripped him instantly. The fox felt an immediate and immense pressure in his bladder. It was as though he had been holding his need to pee for hours on end. His legs trembled. Regardless of his best efforts, he only barely managed to hold the urge for a couple of seconds before his knees buckled and the overpowering impulse to piss got the better of him. 

As the first spurt of pee sprayed his sheath a damp patch blossomed across the front of his skirt. The wet fabric became translucent with moisture and clung to his maleness. The feeling of damp fur around his groin was all too familiar. His flow trickled beneath him into a quickly growing yellow puddle around his footpaws. The smell of it wafted up to him and he felt faint at being discovered. Razi’s muzzle twisted into a menacing grin while his own face burned in shame. After all that time it was still embarrassing to control over his bladder wrested from him. The horse approached. His imposing frame blocked escape. Jamie couldn’t stop wetting himself. Although he had tucked his tail between his legs and twisted in his thighs to fight it, he still ended up releasing every last drop of urine he had in him.

Then he woke up.

He bolted upright in a cold sweat. To his dismay the fox prisoner found that he was in the middle of wetting himself. Jamie was wearing a diaper, not that he had any choice in the matter, so he didn’t need to worry about his sheets getting soiled. His cell was kept at a comfortable temperature and he wasn’t covered with a blanket. A look down at his crotch allowed him to see the once-white padding expand and discolor as he unloaded into it. It forced apart his thighs, and squished sodden and heavy between them. His arms were wrapped around himself in a tight hug thanks to his straitjacket. He couldn’t change himself, and there was nothing he could do to hide his shame. 

He fidgeted uncomfortably. The diaper rustled annoyingly loud with each slight movement.

It was the third time that he had found himself peeing in bed, which distressed him severely. The forced hydration and diaper humiliation that he had endured for weeks on end was taking its toll on his muscle memory. Even without the mind-altering audio file that played on loop while he and the other inmates slept he seemed to be able to hold his bladder less and less as time went on. He didn’t plan on staying in that terrible place forever. He was going to find a way out. He had to. The vulpine just hoped that when he eventually did there weren't any long lasting effects from the hypnosis and restraints. He didn’t relish the thought of buying plastic sheets and wearing diapers to bed for the rest of his life.

He squinted up at the digital clock on the wall through the gloom. It was almost time that the orderlies would be flipping on the lights and gathering the patients. His ears folded down as he failed to stem his flow until it faded to a weak dribble from his sheath. He glowered at his roommate. He still only knew the rat as Patient 126. Like always, the rodent seemed to be wide awake and was engaged in his particularly unnerving habit of staring right at Jamie with his entirely black, unblinking eyes. The murine’s large, round ears rotated toward him. 126 had been nothing if not perceptive and obviously heard the telltale whiz of his stream of piss spraying against the lining of his padding.

His companions’s nose twitched at the acrid tinge of the fox’s urine in the air. His muzzle, partially obscured by the wrapping of gauze around it to hold it shut (punishment for biting a nurse), tweaked up into a smirk. The sooner Jamie wasn’t sharing a room with the unhinged rat, the better. He fell back and rolled onto his side to face the wall, blushing furiously as his last surge of pee flooded into his protection.

“Already a bedwetter, huh? And you put up such a fight, too. You’ll be a lot more comfortable if you just give in and go when you need to. Then you can just lay back and let them change you,” the rat suggested. Despite being muffled, his voice lilted with mirth. “Either way you’ll get used to it eventually. Sooner or later you’ll be just like me and it’ll happen without you even noticing.”

Jamie huffed and didn’t respond. He gave into 126 baiting him more times than he cared to admit, already and didn’t want to deal with another round of teasing that early in the morning. He was bothered enough by his growing incontinence on its own without his roommate twisting the knife. 

When the orderlies came they would both be changed. It was still humiliating for the fox everytime. At least, other than on a few unfortunate occasions, he had managed to avoid needing to mess himself. He found that he dreaded Ajit’s days off due to this specific circumstance. The handsome tiger had struck a deal with him to let him relieve himself properly in a toilet in exchange for modeling bathing suits designed for vixens during hydrotherapy sessions. He was a nice guy, and was willing to break more than a few rules by bargaining for favors with an inmate. This meant that Jamie could appeal to his better nature over time and maybe convince him to help in a breakout attempt.

Unlike Razi, who seemed to have made it his personal goal to embarrass and torture the fox at every turn. The pair had the same work schedule, so it was always a coin flip who he got to interact with first each day.

Jamie decided he would prove to himself that he still had total control over his bladder when he wanted to. Ajit worked that day, and he would be allowed to use the toilet that afternoon, per their arrangement. He just needed to hold his piss until he could relieve himself properly. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Over the last month or so- he wasn’t sure the exact number of days that he had spent within those walls anymore- Jamie’s days had fallen into a highly predictable routine. The lights would hum to life from their dim state to almost painfully bright at the same time every morning. After the subtle, hypnotic audio track was disabled the orderlies would come in to check their diapers and change them if needed. If any prisoner regularly went too long without wetting themself, they were considered insubordinate and the staff were allowed to take measures to force it to occur. This could be as simple as upping their fluid intake to the point where nature would take its course, or more creative strategies, like those that had been employed on the vulpine when he began his false confinement.

The horse preferred the crueler methods, so Jamie often wet himself on purpose just prior to his arrival to avoid those, but otherwise tended to keep himself dry as long as possible. They would be fed a morning meal after that, typically by volunteers like Jamie had been. Baths followed that. The captive canid had been working Ajit’s better nature to convince him to help in his escape, and had been making slow but sure progress. More often than not, while they had the showers to themselves, Jamie offered himself to the muscular tiger. The cat took great pleasure in ejaculating into his maw or hoisting the fox’s tail to bury himself in his tight heat. The vulpine enjoyed this too. The striped fur was attractive and attentive, and Jamie was still young and had his own physical needs to satisfy. He certainly couldn’t paw off while trapped in a straitjacket (not that he would anyway, with 126 constantly watching his every move). 

Before lunch, the patients were wheeled out in wheelchairs to the courtyard in small groups for some sun and socializing. There was little they could do while confined in their various degrees of bondage with their diapers on full display. Because of this, the staff usually took this as an opportunity for their own lunch breaks, leaving the prisoners unsupervised. Afternoon exercises followed their next meal, with Jamie almost always being entered into hydrotherapy with Ajit if he was working.

That day it was thankfully the cat who had taken charge of him while Razi wrangled 126. He had his diaper respectfully changed with minimal snide comments from his roommate and the stallion and was guided through his morning regimen like usual. The feline had just finished parking him outside next to a fur he had become fast friends with. The tiger informed him in a pleasant tone that he would back in a little bit, and that they would be spending more time than usual together that day since he had picked up another staff member's shift. In a risky display of his growing affection he let his claws brush through and linger in the plush fur of Jamie’s bottlebrush tail before he departed.

The young river otter inmate beside him noticed the act and smiled softly at his friend. He and the fox were about the same age. He had a sleek russet coat with a majestic white mask and a slender frame. He would have been far more attractive without the restraints and under other circumstances, but the vulpine preferred more masculine presentations. Jamie had learned his tale was similar to his own, assuming he was telling the truth.

The mustelid’s name was Tryggr, but he was known around the asylum as 213. The numbers were apparently used to keep the staff from connecting too much with the patients on a personal level, lest the orderlies and nurses get tricked into helping them escape (Jamie thought wistfully of the athletic tiger). Tryggr had volunteered several months before the fox had. He had heard rumors that other patients were in similar circumstances. The abductions always seemed to start when few anthros, if any, the victims knew were aware of where they were going. It was hard to say for certain who was being honest and who was latching onto the idea of potential freedom by echoing their circumstances with minor tweaks.

There was definitely something shady about the facility.

After Ajit left them, Tryggr eyed the feline then turned toward Jamie.

“Looks like things are going well with seducing the orderly?”

Jamie had another swimming session with him in a few hours and fully anticipated getting a load of tiger spunk in his tailhole since he had only gotten a muzzleful in the shower that morning.

“I think he’s finally starting to realize that I’m not lying about not belonging here,” the fox replied. “He’s going to come around and help us. I’m sure of it.” 

He hoped anyway. Still he made the statement with more conviction than he actually had.

Jamie fidgeted a bit in his chair. He hadn’t urinated since he wet the bed hours before and with the juice served at breakfast and the water foisted on him every few minutes, his bladder was already aching. It twinged, wanting relief. He had made a promise to himself though, and intended to keep it. He peeked down and saw that his companion was already soaked. The mustelid admitted when they first started chatting weeks before that he had lost almost total control over his bladder by this point, and it seemed, unfortunately, his bowels would be next.

“When you get out, you’re going to find my friends and family and get me out of here, right?”

Jamie always appreciated that Tryggr said “when” rather than “if.” It might be that he was simply holding out hope in the only way he could, but it made the fox feel like he really believed in him.

“Of course,” he said, looking back up into his chocolate brown eyes and smiling with sincerity. “And the police too...and every lawyer in the country. That old goat forged papers stating that I was a patient. He should be in here, not us! I just can’t figure out why.”

“This is a private mental hospital and prison. It probably gets funded based on the number of inmates it houses. I bet he’s paying off some corrupt judges to get furs sent here that don’t belong in addition to kidnapping volunteers to swell their numbers...and making a fat stack of cash off the whole operation,” the otter proposed.

It made about as much sense as any theory that Jamie could come up with. When they had discussed how they came to be there, Tryggr told him that he had recently moved to town and was searching for volunteer work to both help out and meet other kind anthros willing to donate their time. It was such a minor event that he didn’t tell his family so they didn’t know where to check when he vanished. Jamie had been captured on his first day as well. He wasn’t particularly close with his family, and though his friends might wonder why he had gone silent, it wasn’t like this would be the first place they would come looking for him. His best bet for help from the outside was his landlord, whom he had run into on his way out the door that day so long ago. He briefly mentioned that he was headed to the asylum, but he doubted the wolverine was paying much attention. Maybe since the fox had just missed a rent check his memory would be jogged and he would come sniffing around to find Jamie here when he couldn’t be reached. Although that seemed like such a slim chance that the vulpine knew he had to take an active role in his getaway if he had any hope breaking out.

Jamie squirmed in his seat. His bladder was nearly bursting and already he could feel a small trickle leak from his sheath and drizzle into his padding. His resolve was about to fail and he hadn’t even made it to lunch. It felt like everyday his ability to hold it weakened. Not only was there the frustration of not being in total control of his bodily functions, but he was gravely worried that the codeword implanted by the constant hypnosis track that was played on loop for them overnight would ruin his chance of liberation, just like in his nightmare. He wished his paws were free to grasp at his groin and dance a bit like a potty training cub, but he had to settle for squeezing his thighs together as best he was able to with the overstuffed padding between them.

“Do you know of any way to fight the hypnosis? Reverse it? Ignore it for a while somehow, maybe?” The fox asked, trying to distract himself from his need.

His friend focused ruefully downward at his soggy diaper and shook his head.

The vupine’s shoulders slackened. He would just need to make sure he thoroughly emptied himself directly before any escape attempt. He couldn’t be forced to wet himself if he didn’t have any piss in him, after all.

A sudden twinge in his bladder made him stiffen. A spurt of pee followed, splashing against the interior of his disposable underwear with a soft but audible hiss. As soon as he started, he found he couldn’t stop and that flow rapidly shifted into a torrent as an entire morning’s worth of urine was unleashed into the thirsty protection. The diaper couldn’t wick the moisture away fast enough, and droplets of pee ran in rivulets out the frilly plastic leg holes. The fur of his thighs was streaked dark with wetness, and any fur could surely smell that he had just peed himself if they didn’t hear the crinkling and muffled swish of a stream hitting the lining.

He peered up at the clock and sighed. He had a long wait left until his next change.

It was many hours later that Jamie had been commandeered by Ajit and brought to the therapy pool to swim laps. Normally his afternoon exercise was scheduled much earlier in the day, but it was practically mid-evening when they began. While he was grateful to finally be out of the sodden padding, he was still made to wear something equally humiliating. The tiger had brought him one of his favorite swimsuits. It was actually the first he had ever modelled for the cat. The sleek, sporty one-piece swimsuit hugged his body. It was intended for vixens about his build, and the shimmering elastine outlined every contour of his graceful physique and prominently outlined his sheath and balls. The fabric was dark, emblazoned with a scarlet stripe beneath each arm.

Jamie had grown less self-conscious about crossdressing, as it happened more and more while he entertained the tiger hunk. He still blushed furiously when the feline saw him in for the first time each session, but that might be more due to an increasing crush he had on the orderly. The feeling seemed reciprocated, since Ajit was more than willing to break protocol not only to enjoy his fox patient’s swimwear but to alleviate himself of other pleasures the vulpine had to offer as well.

If pressed, he might even admit that he liked wearing the sexy swimwear, although his ears and cheeks would tinge pink at the admission. It was equally likely that he merely enjoyed the spellbound reaction of his jailor than the actual appearance and feel of the suits themselves. When he was playing the part of the eager but bashful vixen, Ajit eyed him with open and covetous desire.

Jamie had quickly learned that the tiger preferred his partners to be demure and deferential. The fox took this information in stride and was flirtatiously coy as he teased his captor and riled him up. While the cat had no issues mating him during diaper changers or in the showers, after their hydrotherapy sessions he typically enjoyed pleasuring himself alone. Maybe he was just embarrassed by his fetish, his prisoner reasoned. His pact with Jamie meant that the red-furred anthro was allowed to relieve himself in the toilet, and while this occurred he would lock the locker room door and wander off to the staff-only room to paw off. He usually growled and grunted his way through his intense masturbation and often had to bring the suits home to launder after shooting his feline seed into them. Normally, he left the fox chained with limited mobility- enough to move around and do his business, but with no real hope for escape.

He had occasionally been so preoccupied with lustful fantasies that he was sloppy and allowed Jamie more length of chain than he should have, or hadn’t properly secured him. It was clear that he didn’t consider the fur much of a threat. Jamie couldn’t blame him. While the canid could be combative and feisty, especially early on in his stay, he didn’t have the build to overpower Ajit and take his key. Not only that, but one false move would surely lead to the revocation of his bathroom privileges, and there was little he hated more than having to mess himself on the tiger’s days off. 

Ajit didn’t wait to take Jamie’s swimsuit from him that evening. He must have been in such a hurry to relieve some physical tension. His swollen maleness had been obviously pressed against his swimming trunks for the better part of their session. Aside from locking the door to the changing room he didn’t bother to restrain the fox at all before sauntering into the staff office to stroke himself. Jamie shrugged to himself. There wasn’t much he could do with his limited freedom. He only needed to piss again, so he meandered over to the toilets and hitched up one leg hole of the swimsuit to angle the tip of his sheath out of. He pointed himself downward into the urinal and reveled in the joy of being allowed to use the bathroom like a trustworthy adult.

Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw it.

From where he stood at the toilets he could see the door to the employees only area in his peripheral vision. Ajit had left it ajar. Through it, he could just see the tiger’s naked back, his trunks in a bundle around his ankles. His broad back heaved with pleasure and his stripes rippled fluidly with the perpetual cranking of his arm. His tail lashed over the side of the bench facing Jamie. The heady scent of feline arousal was overpowering, even above the lingering scent of stale piss and chlorine. More important than the admittedly tantalizing scene unfolding before him was that on the floor midway between the door and the cat was the orderly’s pile of clothing that he had discarded before their swim. His lanyard and keys were a splash of color among the mostly white garb.

The fox felt a flutter in his chest and everything seemed to slow and blur. Now was his chance. He was as ready as he ever would be and his bladder was as empty as it needed to be. His tail rose and curved sharply toward his back. His ears flattened. He felt every follicle alive with electricity. Jamie took a deep breath to steady himself and flexed his paws. He channeled every ounce of natural alertness, agility, and grace that he could from his body as he stalked closer. His damp paw pads barely made a sound against the tiles and certainly not one that would be heard over the rhythmic slapping of flesh and Ajit’s blissful groans.

After what seemed like an eternity, he made it to the pile. With a glance to his guardian to make sure he was still engaged, Jamie snatched up the outfit and started retreating back into the changing room. The clothing would be oversized on him due to the feline’s stronger physique, but they didn’t have to last him very long and the bagginess might help disguise his species at a distance if he could tuck his tail beneath the coat. 

Just as he was almost out of the staff quarters, Ajit spoke. Jamie was so startled that he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“I was wondering when you were going to make your move. You’re either clearly not crazy, or you are the best actor I’ve ever met. Lock me in here so I have plausible deniability and I’ll delay as long as I can . Good luck getting out. I’ll miss you,” the tiger said with a strange melancholy in his tone.

I’ll miss you too, the fox wanted to admit. Ajit was probably the only thing about the wretched place that he would pine for when he was at last free of it. He choked on the words when he tried to force them out. His emotions were tumultuous. He started off teasing the tiger and pulling his heartstrings for personal gain, but over time had developed genuine feelings for the feline. Instead, he managed a simple “thank you,” in a shaky voice before pulling the door shut and latching it from the outside. He wished he could stare into the cat’s beautiful emerald eyes one last time. Instead fingered the lanyard’s ID photo. It was going to be as good of a memento as he could hope for.

He dressed so quickly that he didn’t even bother removing the swimsuit before putting on his new clothes over it. He had to cinch the orderly’s belt as tight as it would go to keep his pants from slipping down over his rump and sagging too low. When he put the lanyard on, he tactfully turned the side with the ID photo toward his chest to not give himself away at a casual sighting. He didn’t don the tiger’s underwear since it felt unnecessary. He considered leaving it behind for the feline, but instead held it up to his snout and inhaled deeply, breathing in his musky scent before stuffing the black briefs into his pocket.

It was late enough in the day that most of the prisoners were either being served dinner or confined to their rooms until it was time for lights out. Much of the staff would be leaving for the day if they hadn’t already and what remained would be helping prepare the inmates for bed. There would be few anthros who could catch him in his escape. Ajit must have planned this for him. Jamie desperately wanted to go back in and kiss the tiger to show him how he felt, but he couldn’t squander his only chance.

The hallway seemed to stretch on to infinity in either direction. He knew his way back to his room. And to the cafeteria. And to the courtyard. The fox was reasonably sure he could navigate himself closer to an exit, but not necessarily directly to one. It was no accident that few locations were purposefully marked with signs. The maze-like layout was meant to avert escape attempts and it was working wonders. There were visible emergency exits, but those would sound a fire alarm and do him more harm than good. Jamie racked his brain to recall the steps he took all those weeks ago when he first volunteered at the asylum.

He quickly made a decision on a way to travel and kept his head down and his pace as quick as he dared to without attracting attention. He didn’t know how long it would be before some fur stumbled across the “trapped” Ajit and the whole building went on lockdown. He took several turns and tried to keep track mentally of which ways he had wandered to not head down the same pathways over and over again. It all became quickly muddled, but he was pretty sure he was making progress. His ability to suppress his panic was just starting to wane when he turned a corner and saw the entry hall at the end of a long corridor. Halfway between himself and the reception desk was the worst thing he could imagine.

Razi, the horse who had been his personal bully throughout his whole ordeal, was heading directly his way. He appeared bored and somewhat tired while pushing a wheelchair with 126 nestled in it, bound in his straitjacket with his muzzle wrapped in gauze like usual. There was no way he could keep up his disguise when passing right by the stallion, especially if the rodent got a good look at him. The rat was a chaotic wrench when thrown into any scenario. Trying to account for what made sense to him was a lost cause. Jamie’s eyes darted around, hunting for somewhere- anywhere- to hide. The hallway was lined with doors. Most of them were closed, but who knew if they were locked or where they headed. Trying to open one was as much of a risk as walking past the hooved anthro.

Suddenly, his roommate caught his gaze before he was able to turn his face away. The murine flashed a sinister grin in his direction. This must not have been abnormal behavior for him as he was wheeled through the halls, since Razi seemed to pay him no mind. Jamie silently pleaded with his eyes for the insane fur to let him be this one time. Then, 126 did something completely unexpected. He winked to the vulpine and, unprompted, wriggled violently and pulled free of the restraints tethering him to his chair. He was a canny escape artist and bolted upright with surprising ease. A door hung ajar to one side of him and he barreled through it shoulder first, slamming it open with a painful-sounding thunk.

The equine orderly swore as the wheelchair clattered onto its side. He yelled for assistance as he followed the rodent in.

Jamie took his chance, knowing help would be on its way and soon employees would be swarming the area. He tread as quickly as he could toward the exit. There was a chubby wolf receptionist on duty who seemed completely unperturbed about the disturbance only several yards down the corridor. He barely peeped over the pages of his book as the vulpine rushed past him.

“Raindrop,” he uttered through a stifled yawn. He didn’t even bother to pay attention to the effects of his invocation of hypnotic power before looking back down to his page. Despite having emptied his bladder recently, Jamie felt a few drops dribble from his sheath, but they just made a damp splotch on his pants that was barely visible if one was studying his crotch closely. He took the last few steps past security, pressed his palms against the cool glass door of the facility, and opened the path to freedom.

Weeks later, things had settled down in Jamie’s life. He had made sure that he was safe and sound and that he wasn’t in danger of being dragged back to the asylum under false pretenses. He contacted journalists to share his story (the less embarrassing aspects, at least), lawyers to help free Tryggr and any other anthro wrongly held, and the proper authorities to track down who was involved in purposefully imprisoning innocent furs and bring them to justice. He still wet the bed on rare occasions, much to his chagrin, but was working on getting that aspect of his life back under complete control. When his otter friend was released shortly after his escape they met up and remained close friends after sharing such a harrowing time. The fox desperately missed Ajit and wanted to thank him properly, but had been advised by legal officials to avoid contacting anyone involved with his case, with an exception being made for Tryggr, until the whole matter had been settled.

Jamie lounged on his couch in his underwear and a tank top while watching the news one evening, still overwhelmingly content to experience the normal things in life again. The main story on the program was the same as what was in the headlines that morning and all over the internet all day. He and his mustelid companion had been hailed as heroes for escaping and coming forth, and the courts had just awarded them substantial damages for their confinement and treatment. More particular details about what they were subjected to were included than he would’ve liked, but he supposed that with his freedom, he couldn’t complain too much.

While the newscaster explained the situation, he was slipping some photographs into an envelope addressed to Ajit.

“I’ll never forget what you did for me, so here is a way for you to never forget me,” he wrote in his neatest penmanship on the reverse side. “With love, Jamie. P.S. You can stop by and pick up your swimsuit anytime.”

He flipped the photos over and examined each of them one last time before sealing the envelope with lick and a kiss. A warm smile played at his muzzle. The pictures were of him, in Ajit’s favorite vixen-style swimwear in a variety of erotic and enticing poses. His plump sheath was prominently displayed in some and no few of them had his ass raised toward the lens.  

“And that’s all for today’s headlines,” the anchor announced with a faux cheerfulness. “Let’s go over to the weather report to see if it is sunshine or raindrops in our future!”

The fox’s smile vanished and he felt the cushion grow warm and wet beneath him.