The entire world seemed to be moving, and that wasn’t just because Frank’s head was constantly spinning.

The husky slowly opened his eyes; his vision was blurred, but he felt a gentle softness against his cheek which made them close again, if only for a moment. That moment lasted longer than he expected, up till he felt something place itself atop his head. Letting out a low groan, he groggily placed his paws onto whatever it was he was leaning against, trying to push himself up. No dice. Nothing happened besides maybe a slight lift of his head.

Feeling himself becoming more and more awake, Frank felt a state of panic slowly building up in the back of his mind. Taking its time, letting him wallow in it and savor the uncertainty before he was fully cognizant of it. It was at the forefront now, and he couldn’t think of anything else now.

His gentle pushing turned into a hard shove, and then suddenly he was looking up at the ceiling, falling. Slowly. Able to count each spike of the popcorn ceiling that dangled below them, like the ceiling of a cave, waiting for just the right moment to fall and get rid of its intruders.

Frank hit the ground with a muted thump, and his eyes closed in a brief grimace of pain. When finally they opened again, gone was the sight of the dangerous ceiling. No more would it fall and rid him of whatever nightmare this was. Instead, hulking and hunched over him, like a shadow that would never leave was Ms. Faraday. Now looking down with great concern, at least on the surface. The glint in that golden eye of hers showed him something else: Hunger.

Frank thought he saw a line of drool forming at the corner of her muzzle before she lifted a paw and wiped it away. That paw quickly brushed off on a black skirt before it, and its partner reached down and scooped the husky up off the carpeted ground. Gentle coos and shushes slipping from her muzzle as if he were bawling his eyes out.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh. Frankie, are you alright!? Sweetie, you have to be more careful than that…” Frank could see that she was barely containing herself, getting to touch him again; let alone having him in a position of vulnerability such as he was. The pose felt familiar, but he wasn’t sure why.

He scrambled to escape from her grasp; once more finding himself falling, though only shortly this time. The wolfess quickly reached out, caught him, then set him on his feet. She looked almost disappointed to see him standing as he wobbled. The drug was mostly gone from his system, though enough remained to give him a childish sense of balance. That helped with her opinion.

Frank groggily came back to full awareness, slowly turning to look around and finding himself stumbling once more. July reached out to catch him, but he quickly stomped and planted his foot, reaching out an arm to keep her at a distance as he found his balance, albeit shakily as he found his first word in hours.
“W-where…?” His throat felt like a desert; each grain of sand built with the seconds that he spent mute, and not by his own choice. He swallowed, choked on it for a moment, then forced it down. He couldn’t help thinking, ‘how long was I unconscious?’ before he could turn, face the ever-present Mrs. Faraday, and try again.

“Where am I?” Frank actually got out the entire sentence, though it came out slightly raspy. If not for her being so close to him, she probably would not have heard him at all. July tilted her head in response, a genuine quizzical look of confusion across her face. She looked up and to the side; her paw holding her chin and the side of her muzzle, as if thinking, before she replied.

“That drug must have been more effective on you than I thought…” Her words tapered off and she left silence in between them, before something seemed to click and she let go of her jaw, turning her head to look directly at Frank now. “You should have been conscious the whole time, but then again. You never would just lay in Momma’s lap like that…'' A look of disappointment once more came across her face, her ears even folding back. “That means that you didn’t experience any of our fun on the bus…” July sighed, crossed her arms and then looked to the side, despondent at her new revelation.

Who in the hell is this lady. Was she seriously upset that Frank didn’t actively suffer through whatever torture and humiliation that she put him through?

Frank’s thoughts drifted back as far as he could make them, which, annoyingly, was not very far. He remembered the darkness. He remembered the colors and the shapes. The thoughts and the sensations. Or at least the remnants of them. The only thing that was clear was that last image before… Nothing. Here. This place.

 Her and Him. Or more accurately, her holding him. A… Pacifier in his muzzle? The recollection brought back Frank’s state of panic and he looked at the wolfess with a thousand-yard stare. He didn’t notice the slight lapse in her disappointment, too lost in the explosion of theories and worries that swarmed into his head all at once.

Frank stood and stared like this for several moments. He didn’t even notice July’s paw waving in front of his eyes, and only came back to his senses when he felt a slight pressure on his nose. He blinked, and shook his head, physically clearing his mind, then looked ahead. The wolfess’s paw hovering just in front of his face before it pulled away and rested on her hip.

“Mrs farrrraaaaddaaayyyy. We gotsta go!”

Both Frank and July turned to look at the source of the voice, unknown to him, but very to her. Dressed similar to the husky, but with a normal length skirt and a long-sleeved button up, was the previously threatened ‘Ms. Daily’, a fox clearly putting on their cutest performance in order to get back on July’s good side. It might be working. Just a touch, though, she told herself.

Mrs. Faraday nodded and waved along the college aged ‘girl’, who curtsied and then did as told. She left to join what Frank recognized as the group of girls that had been on the bus. He could just barely keep himself from reliving that situation for the third (or millionth) time at the sight of them. They were all standing around a middle-aged otter woman, giving them a guided tour by the sounds of it. Frank recognized her.

Frank’s eyes and hers met for a second, and he could swear that he saw them glow, if only for an instant. The otter stopped speaking and then turned towards him. Her paws went to both of her knees, and then she crouched over, giving him the most friendly of smiles. Her paw lifted, and she gave him a folding of the paw style wave, as if she were greeting someone much, much younger than herself, and then turned back towards the group.

“See, even she can tell how cute you are.”

Frank practically jumped as the words came to him. Turning, seeing July now crouched to his level, her words whispered into his ear to him without noticing. Her tail was slowly wagging across the floor, and she chuckled into her paw as she stood once more.

“Also, don’t worry about Daily… You know you’re Momma’s favorite now. Plus, you look much, much cuter in that outfit than she ever did.” Her paw rested atop of his head; stroking through his hair, and scratching behind his ears as she spoke, her fangs showing in a smile.

Frank blinked and just kind of stood still, letting the words echo and process before what she said hit him. He looked across the room to the group of girls, singled out Daily, and took in her outfit piece by piece. His heart started pumping faster. Piece by piece. Second by second.

With his eyes now as big as serving platters, Frank finally looked away from Daily; his heart racing loud enough for July to hear, and cause her to show signs of actual concern. He forced himself to slowly, but insistently, look down. His face contorted and shifted through looks of pain, shame, confusion and fear as he saw what he could only describe as ‘Daily’s outfit but massively worse’.

He stumbled, taking a few steps backwards, each one accompanied by a slight rustling noise. Frank, without even thinking, reached his paw down and lifted the skirt, his heart skipping a beat at the butterfly printed thing about his waist. A few more steps backwards, letting the skirt fall from paws that no longer held it. He pinned himself against a wall, or tried to, despite the pink backpack he noticed on his shoulders, and looked around the entire room this time.

Further panic spread as Frank realized why he recognized the otter. Why the stalactite-esque ceiling and the light hung from it felt familiar, comforting. They were familiar, and for once, Frank wished they weren’t.

His building. His office. His place of work. Frank, somehow, had wound up exactly where he wanted to be. Just definitely not how he wanted. Certainly not dressed how he was.
‘I think it suits you’

Frank jerked his head toward Mrs. Faraday, then the group of girls, the otter, then cycled them all several times in quick succession. “Who said that?!” Frank blurted out, pinned flat to the wall, feeling his heart trying to burst from his chest.

July once more tilted her head towards the husky, but this time it held no playful intent. No ulterior motive like the other times; she was truly, honestly, confused. Slowly. she stepped towards Frank, her arm extended out as if to reach for him. He swatted it away, and she withdrew it to her chest, leaving her to step back.

“D-Don’t touch me!” Frank yelled, his paws braced back against the wall, guiding him as he slid down against it; now sitting on the floor, his pull-up rustling from both contact with the wall and the weight of his rear bearing down on its material.

He covered his eyes, much in the same way as he had at the bus station before. Blue eye. Then Pink. Then black. Nothing but black surrounded him, and then everything slowed down. And quieted. Letting him eventually, finally, calm down. He could hear the thumping of his own heartbeat reverberating off of his new found quiet, but eventually it too faded and left him alone.

Frank wallowed in the nothingness for what felt like ages, but was in actuality mere seconds. The void was safe; nothing, no one, could do anything to him here. Work was not here. Mrs. Faraday was not here. The Voice was not here. The only thing here, the only thing that Frank allowed here, were the colors.

The colors formed, drifted and danced through the blackness, casting shadows despite the lack of light. They swirled around him like clouds, held him and comforted him before resuming their air ballet through the caverns of Frank’s mind. In the colors he could find calm, in the colors he could find himself.

The colors, though, only came to Frank in dreams.

Frank awakened, jerking his paws away from his face. The influx of light temporarily blinded him, as if he spent years in the blackness. Mrs. Faraday was a few feet away from him, moving at normal pace towards him once more, but he found his own way to his feet this time.

“A-A dream. That’s all this is! Nothing but a dream…” Frank finally found the reasoning behind it all. At least, that’s what he told himself. He mumbled to himself over and over like a madman as he slowly found his way back to his feet, his paws braced against the wall to keep himself from falling over once more.

His eyes slowly turned back towards July, then past her. Hanging on an archway of the adjacent wall was an intricate wood clock, its numbers and hands made of brass and reflecting the fluorescent light and the time back to Frank. 11:00 AM.

“That’s it!” Frank called out, looking at the clock for several seconds before he started looking around the room once more. His predicament and his sense of panic had temporarily wiped his memory of the building before it clicked where he was and what he must do.

Without another word to anyone, Frank Launched off the wall, taking off at a sprint down a long hallway that led off from the Lobby. He didn’t even feel July try to reach for him, only for her fingers to brush across the sleeve of his shirt. Something making her stop, let go. Stand in place. Stare at the wall with both of her gorgeously pink eyes, before turning around. The painting hanging above was nice, but, she told herself, her students could only be left alone for so long.

Frank continued his sprint down the hallway; the closed doors of offices slowly opening from people curious about the commotion. Face after face, people Frank knew saw the state he was in, but the response was not what one would expect. They did not laugh or look shocked. Take pictures or rib each other in the stomach to garner attention.

They smiled. They smiled. And they crouched. And they waved. Frank not noticing the pink glinting in each of their eyes as he passed, hearing their comments only coming from behind him. Ones of adoration and exclamations of ‘how cute she is’ ‘wow, she can run at her age?!’ ‘Hey, did someone lose their little girl? Etc, etc.’

Frank blocked it all out and continued running. The hallway seemingly never ending and the faces of people he knew seemed to repeat themselves over and over again. Passing each. Receiving their waves. Hearing their comments, over and over, he continued his cycle.

The only thing that seemed to change was, as he heard each comment, Frank seemed to internalize it deeper and deeper each time. As if each word were weighing him down, each passing Frank noticed that running was becoming harder and harder. He wasn’t getting tired. No, just the action, no, the notion, or running seemed to just be more and more impossible.

The husky found himself slowing down; the comments changing to match his new actions. ‘Is she tired?’ ‘Should someone carry her?’. Each step, each passing, brought more and more changes. More and more, the notion of running did not appeal. The notion of walking did not appeal.

Frank finally stopped and stood in place. Lightly panting, the surrounding faces leaving him alone, smiling. Only waving as he caught his breath.

‘There’s a much easier way’

Frank’s ears perked when he heard the voice; not one he had slowly grown accustomed to. He slowly looked around, seeing all the smiling faces he stood beside, but not one of them spoke. Not one of them had spoken. He came to the only conclusion that he had left: The Voice. He brought his paws up towards his face, ready to cover his eyes and hide again, but stopped.

Instead, he looked down at his paws, his claws now painted a bright baby pink, and just stared into his empty palms for a few moments. He could feel the fur thereon almost longing for something, and an itching sensation building the more he stared. He shook them in the air, hoping to brush away whatever caused the feeling, but to no avail.

Frank dropped onto his knees, his pull-up rustling slightly louder than before. HIs paws flat on the carpet as he started insistently rubbing his palms against the carpet, trying to scratch away the sensation and thankfully, finding relief. The moment his palms touched the carpet, the itching sensation faded, and he found the floor much, much softer than he would have expected.

Carefully, he brushed his fingertips over the surface, then tentatively he lifted his paw from it. Almost immediately, back came the itching sensation, only tripled in strength. He held it aloft while the other near caressed the fibers between his fingers, seducing, indoctrinating the idea, and succeeding. His paw went back onto the carpet, and the sensation faded once more, leaving his head clear to recall his objective.

Frank couldn’t help a small whimper, knowing how he looked now, on all fours, dressed as he was and surrounded by his coworkers, no less. His pink claws dug into the ground, the only thing he could do in protest besides hang his head. He verbally smacked his own cheeks though and made himself focus on the task at hand.

Frank's paws brushed across the carpet as he crawled away down the hallway, only able to lift them from the surface long enough to put down the next one before the itching became too much to bear. More sounds and comments of admiration from his peers as he went, though this time the voices did not seem to repeat.

His trip down the hall was slowed down to a literal crawl, but progress was being made as he read the names on the office doors. Each one telling him he was getting closer and closer to his final destination, and a quick glance at the clock told him that somehow only a few minutes had passed since he left the lobby.

Everything can be explained in a dream, he told himself. This did not help the shame, or embarrassment that he now felt, but it helped him push through it and keep moving forwards. The thought of stopping never crossed his mind. The thought of hiding did, but he always pushed it aside and kept crawling.

Frank was feeling a bit of relief building, despite everything. The last office door he passed informed him he should be only a few minutes from his goal. The meeting room. That’s what this was all about. His brain was stressed out, panicking and rebelling against all the work he had been doing, and was punishing him for it.

He told himself that as long as he got to the meeting room, faced his problems, and gave his presentation, he would wake up from whatever this weird as hell nightmare was. He would get up in the morning. Not have a piddle soaked bed. Not catch a bus with a bunch of psychopaths. Not be dressed like a freaking girl. Give his presentation, then immediately request time off and get his shit together.

This all sounded easy enough, especially given Frank’s thoughts carried him through the last stretch of his journey. One long path, and he could see the large double wooden doors of the meeting room at the end. He was so, so close. All he had to do was push just a little longer.

The husky’s paws once more lifted from the carpet, ready to continue, when he noticed a new sensation. A tightness. stopping in place, he looked down, and his eyes widened. His paws were no longer bare. Hidden away were his baby pink claws. Now buried inside similar colored mitts, firmly strapped around each of his wrists, and each locked with a small padlock.

Frank panicked and tried to crawl once more, the weird shape his paws were forced into making things even harder than before, but he just had to keep going. He had to be done with all of this. He had to get to the meeting. He HAD to wake up.

As he crawled, everything besides the door was pushed from Frank’s mind. He didn’t care what else happened, what else changed. He noticed it got harder as he got closer, things got heavier, his legs were suddenly spread apart and he had to crawl even more awkwardly than before.

From outside, everything was in fact changing with each and every single lift of his paws: The buttons of his shirt slowly fused back into the material, and the holes disappeared. The ¾ sleeves slid until they were just barely covering his shoulders, and slightly puffed up thereon. The hem and ends and swapped with the chest, turning it baby pink and trimmed in white to match his new mitts.

It slunk down further and tucked itself into his skirt, and slowly the two fused together. The black checkers slowly bled their color until they turned white, contrasting with their pink brethren before they saw fit to surrender and turn pink as well. Once together, the pair puffed up the skirt and withdrew, shortening itself, leaving Frank’s pull-up’d rear completely exposed underneath. Though not for long.

His pull-up, too, changed. And not just because, at some point, out of fear, or just not noticing, Frank had wet himself. The material puffed up and forced the husky’s thighs apart, leaving him no option but to stay on the floor he so wanted to leave. The Sides parted, folded over, and then taped themself on the front, each one tipped in pink and coated in see-through butterflies to match its core, and the rest of his outfit; easily seen given his skirt did nothing to hide it now.

Frank’s desperation only grew as each crawling inch brought forth with it a crinkling noise that he could no longer ignore. He stopped dead in place and risked a look down at himself, his face aflame mere moments later. His cheeks had decided that they too wanted to match the rest of his new outfit, and a sudden urge to cry out welled in the back of his throat.

He forcibly swallowed it down and then looked ahead. Feet. No. Inches from the door. His eyes widened in joy, springing up from the floor, though keeping his knees on the carpet, he flung at the door. Both of his paws, one for each handle, as he looked in through the window. Sitting around the large table were his coworkers, and standing there, looking annoyed, was his boss.

As he stared inside, his backpack slowly flattened itself against his spine. He could feel something almost crawling along his back, but he dared not look. The buckles of the bag came up and clipped themself against his chest, then thickened and took on more of a similar appearance to his cuffs. Made of leather and now formed into a child harness. A flat strap across his tummy had a butterfly similar to his other motifs, and he could hear a slight jangle from his back now.

Frank pushed all these thoughts aside and barged into the large doors, shoving them open as hard as he was still capable. They flung open barely half way, both heavy, and Frank weak from what had happened. Long enough, though, for him to finish crawling into the meeting room, the doors slowly swinging closed behind him. He had made it.

The snow leopard nearly jumped when the doors flung open. Not seeing anyone standing there, she blinked in confusion and tentatively came out from around the table. Her paws slowly brushed over the large wood table before she took hold of the edge and peered over it. Right at him.

Frank thought he had died. It was all over. He never made it. He would be discovered, dead, in his bed. Probably still surrounded by soaked sheets. He couldn’t even feel his heart beating, it was moving too fast. The snow leopardess looked down at him, crouched over the edge of the table. Her bright pink eyes staring back at him. And she smiled.

“There she is!” She cooed and then came fully out from around the table. Quickly, she reached down and scooped Frank up from the floor, his size and weight nothing to her. She was not July, not as strong as July, but she held him probably even easier than she had. 

She held him against her, chest to chest; one of her arms under each of his knees to support him, giving him enough room to lean back, but not enough that he could get away. She looked down at him and smiled once more, then leant down and rubbed her nose against his own. What she said next, Frank thought, was the final nail in the coffin.

“There’s Momma’s baby girl!” The leopardess cooed, then licked up the bridge of his muzzle. Her paws moved to situate themselves on his now thickly diapered rear, and rubbed and massaged thoroughly, filling the room with a constant echo of crinkle noises while she continued to dote on the husky, bouncing him lightly in place which made the noises even more constant.

His former boss daww’d at the sight of him, and then reached into her suit pocket, pulling out her phone. When she opened it, Frank’s eyes shot open once more. Her home screen was a picture of him, though he barely recognized himself.

Sitting on the floor of what seemed to be a playpen large enough to hold himself, the husky was dressed in nothing but an obviously soggy diaper. A pacifier firmly planted in his muzzle. He was clutching a large stuffed animal to himself and he was… Smiling. Smiling just like all the others. Smiling just like how she smiled at him now.

She turned on her camera and made him lean outwards, then bumped the side of his muzzle with her own to make him turn his head to face the lense. Moving her head in closer, she snapped the picture of the two of them and smiled once more. She turned the phone towards Frank, and bounced him a few times, fawning over him once more. “Such a pretty girl I have…”

Frank had broken. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. Dream logic or not, Frankie did not know what to think anymore. Things were just so completely out there that he didn’t know how his own brain could have come up with any of this. 

Finally, a long fought sensation won out. Frankie tipped back his head, closed his eyes, and cried. And cried. And cried.

The snow leopardess blinked in sudden confusion at her puppy’s outburst and immediately began rocking and shushing, trying to calm him down the best that she could. She even gently slipped her fingers under his dress, into Frankie’s diaper to check its state, and the confusion grew even more so when she found it dry.

“Aww, what’s the matter princess. Are you hungry? You’re not wet, which is a big shocker considering I fed you this morning.”

Frankie just continued to cry, letting the tears stream down his face and mate down the fur thereon. His mitted paws lifted to cover his eyes and absorbed some tears that his fur could not. He only found a moment of silence as the large double doors suddenly completely opened.

In walked, no, glided a black fox. His ear, finger and tail tips white. All three of them. His eyes are just the same shade of blue as Frankie’s own. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, minus the jacket. His suspenders over his shoulders, his sleeves rolled up and secured at his elbows, fancy dress shoes lightly echoing against the floor as he came closer.

He, too, gave Frankie that smile everyone else has. But this one seemed different. This one felt more…him. Like the feature actually belonged to the fox as he now stood beside the husky, and the snow leopard which carried him. The smile was only short-lived, though, as the fox placed his paw on the back of his head and looked apologetic.

“Oh thank gods, you found her… I should have figured she just wanted Mommy.” The fox placed a paw on Frankie’s head and slowly ruffled his hair and then scratched behind his ears as he continued to talk like the husky wasn’t even there. With a voice that took a moment, but Frankie almost immediately placed. The Voice.

The look of realization seemed to be more apparent than he expected, causing the fox to look at him and then wink before looking back towards the leopardess. “You know, sweetie… We’ve been working too much. You on this project, me with the accounting department. I say we take a nice, long vacation. After all, we have a pretty baby girl that needs her Mommy and daddy. “

The snow leopardess hmm’d and then bounced Frankie a few more times, listening and purring softly at her puppy, now calmer, and at the crinkling sound that escaped from his rear before she rubbed her nose against Frankie’s once more. “Daddy’s right. Mommy’s been way too busy. And as much as I know you like your time with Nanny, and Mrs Faraday, Momma’s been getting quite jealous. That just won’t do.”

She leaned forward and pecked the fox on his cheek; he, using the opportunity to take Frankie from her. She pouted a little at this, but stroked the back of the husky’s hair and smiled once more.

Frankie could do nothing but lie there in silence, contemplating. Questioning. Begging. Why? Why? He had made it; he was in the meeting room. Why hadn’t the dream ended. Why wasn’t he awake. Why was this happening to him?

Sensing his discomfort, the fox reached across and pulled the leopardess into a hug, then pressed his lips to her own. Her eyes closed, but the fox’s did not. Instead, they looked at Frankie, who was now staring, seeing his crush firmly fall out of reach of him forever.

The kiss provided enough distraction for the fox to reach down and take hold of the ID lanyard that was still around Frankie’s neck, the glint in his eye showing that he approved of the picture there on. Though carefully, slowly, his fingers stroked the length of the rope from the top down to the picture. Frankie watched as it changed beneath the vulpine’s fingers; the plain pink rope thickened and flattened, pictures of familiar butterflies sprouted up from its plain surface and trailed down to the card itself. 

The fox waved his paw over the picture, and it, too, changed. It shrunk down until it was only the image of Frankie himself, and then the fox’s paw lifted. The picture rose and grew, though only part of it. Slowly the pacifier came out of Picture-Frankie's mouth and popped free of the plastic frame. The card reformed into a ring, which secured it to the new tether clipped to Frankie’s chest.
Only once this was done did the fox finally pull away from the kiss. It was clear from the look on the Leopard’s face that they were in love, and there was probably nothing that Frankie could do about it. All he could do was continue to ask why. Why. Why. Why?

Finally, as if reading his mind, the fox gave him an answer. His paw reached down and plucked the pacifier from Frankie’s tummy, holding it by the ring before he gently nuzzled it into the husky’s muzzle. His paw cradled it in place, waiting for Frankie himself to suckle on it, which took mere moments.

With a nod, and one more genuine smile, he took the leopardess by the hip and pulled her close to his own, which earned a playful giggle from now Mommy. With Frankie now suckling wordlessly on the pacifier, the fox used the leopardess to balance the husky between the two of them. Using his other paw, he gently reached up and used a finger to turn Frankie's head. Right at the clock hanging above the desk. 11:11AM

Daddy grinned and then brushed his palm over Frankie’s eyes. Slowly, the world went black and quiet, and Frankie only heard one more thing before the colors found him one last time.

“Wish granted.”