FSE

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Ky Walker strolled down the hallway to his dorm, with not a care in the world. He was set! He had his life in order, he was breezing through college, had amazing friends, amazing grades, an amazing family- everything a fox could ever want. He even had a healthy little nestegg built up, through scrimping and saving. He waved his lush tail through the air as he walked, stopping at door A203- that was his dorm. Searching his jeans for the keys a moment, something caught his eye. A little ribbon below the door, just peeking out the crack. That's strange.. he didn't have any ribbon, he wasn't into decoration. Besides, he was far too neat to let something stay on the floor like that- his house was spotless and organized. Everything had its place, and never did it stray too far from it! The fox, himself, followed- he was spotless and clean, with soft, fluffy fur.

He shrugged a bit, fitting the key in and swinging open his door. He'd just clean it up, doesn't really matter how it got there. He stepped inside his spacious apartment- nothing too much in the way of furniture- he had a white loveseat, a small television mounted on the wall, a bookshelf, a small kitchen table, a second chair, a stove, and a sink- that did it for all the kitchen, living room, and dining room, which was all one room. In his bathroom he had toilet paper, a mirror, sink, and tub- that's it. For his bedroom, he had a small dresser, and a bed. The only thing that seemed out of place was a small, portable table, and the laptop that went on it. Other than that, everything had a place.

He closed the door behind him, and glanced for the ribbon. It took him a few moments to find it- mostly because the ribbon was attatched to a little square present, artfully wrapped. He chuckled a bit- a friend must have left it, probably to annoy him. The lithe little fox bent down to grab it, but frowned- as soon as he touched it, he had a strange... dirty feeling run through him. It went as soon as it came, and Ky dismissed it with a shrug. He picked up the present, sat down on his couch, and carefully unwrapped it. He took the lid off the box inside, and frowned- a... pink collar, a pair of panties, a dog bowl, and... a thing of mints. A strange gift, if he ever saw one. One of his more inappropriate friends- and he had few of them- must have been playing a prank. Ah, well. He tossed it to the side for now, he'd find a place for it later.

With a yawn, the fox stood up and walked to his room, forgetting the box entirely, unimportant as it was. He slid off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear. That's generally how he spent his time around his apartment- in his loose boxers, just relaxing. He flipped on the television in the livingroom with the remote he kept in his bedroom, and began his daily routine after class- he would lounge on the couch, watching television for a few hours, make himself a small dinner, turn on his laptop and browse the internet for a while, clean up, shower, then go to bed. Tonight was a little different- he didn't notice it, but he went around with a strange, dirty feeling the whole night. He forgot some stuff, too- after dinner, he left the dishes on the table. Before bed, he forgot to shower. Nothing too big, just some small stuff. The box was far out of his mind.

The next day, he woke up. He felt... off. He couldn't discribe it. After puzzling over it a few minutes, he shrugged, and started his morning routine. Shower- which he remembered to do, breakfast- which he forgot to clean up, television- he forgot to turn it off before he left, then getting dressed. He frowned, as he went to go to his wardrobe. He was all out of clean underwear. But... didn't he do a load just last night? He coulda swore... well, he'll just start one now. But what would he wear? The box from before came to mind- didn't that have some panties? He wasn't like that, but... hell, it's only a day, isn't it? No one would see him wearing them, and it's better than wearing no underwear at all. Shrugging, he went out to the box, snagged the pink panties, and slid them on. It fit his ass rather well- snug, made it look more like a bubble butt than a firmly toned one, but he didn't mind. It accented his bulge a bit, too- that was a plus. He grinned a bit, checking himself out a few moments, before going on the rest of his routine, dressing up in his usual jeans and tee. He set off on his day, which was like most others- except that strange, dirty feeling kept following him around. That, and the constant rubbing of the silky panties put him in a constant state of slight arousal. But that wasn't a problem, and he didn't notice.

He arrived home, same as any other day. He entered in, and sat straight on the couch. It'd been a long day, and he was slightly tired. He flipped on the television, and simply sat and watched for a few hours. Eventually he saw the clock- damn, he missed dinner. He pushed the old, used dishes aside, and made himself a nice, tasty dinner. He gave himself a -lot- of a nice, tasty dinner too- three, four more times than usual. It made his stomach round out a bit, but he didn't notice- it was just too good to stop eating! Eventually, he looked down to take another bite. His food was gone. He felt strangely sad, but shrugged a bit, pushing the dishes aside. He looked up again at the clock- he needed some sleep! He rushed to his bedroom, hopping under the covers, fully clothed.

A week passed, and he slowly slid down the slope. By the start of the next week, the fox- and his place- was almost unrecognizable. The apartment table was filled with used plates, and stank slightly of rotten food. The floor was unslept, the bed unmade, and toilet dirty. The couch was stained with pop, and his laptop keys sticky. His television was never turned off, and the load of laundry to do was scattered all over his bedroom floor. He still hadn't changed from that first day- same jeans, now stained and torn slightly, the same shirt, sweat-stained and with food dribbles, and the same pink panties, now slightly yellowed in front, smelling of sweat. His fur was greasy and matted- but he didn't mind at all. He barely noticed. His diet, too, had changed- he kept the large portions from the second night, but applied it to all meals, and then some. The increase in eating had taken its toll- his loose jeans were now skinny jeans, his pants strained, and some of a truly bubble butt hung out of the seat of his pants. His shirt now showed a slight belly, and his lower back showed out. But he didn't care- his friends, however, did. They all took to avoiding him now, all but one.

That friend's name was Tobias. Tobias was a husky, one of Ky's slobbier friends, but an all around good guy. They'd taken to hanging out more and more. Ky was appreciative of Tobias- he was the only one of his friends not to comment on his smell, or his ill-fitting clothes. In fact, the husky seemed quite alright with the change, and Ky appreciated that- after all, he hadn't really changed anyways. Not that much, anyways.

Today, Ky' went through his normal routine- sit on his ass for a few hours, watch television, surf the net, realize it was late, and make himself a giant dinner before heading to bed. At dinner time, he groaned, not wanting to get up- but food was more important to him than comfort, and he eventually rose. He grabbed a dirty pan, threw some meat on it, then went to grab another to put in the eggs- but there was none, none usable, anyways. He sighed a bit, and cracked the egg onto the stove itself. That'd have to do. He would clean it later. A half hour of cooking, and he finally was finished- seven half-cooked porkchops, and a stove covered with burnt eggs. He opened a cupboard for a plate- great. He was out. The ones on the table- and they took up the whole table- were too dirty to eat off of. Rolling his eyes, he sat on the chair, thinking. How was he going to eat his dinner now? A box flashed in his mind- his present. The one he'd gotten a week ago. He'd forgotten about it, but didn't it have a dog bowl?

But would he eat out of a dog bowl? It was a bit demeaning... but no one had to know, right? With a sigh he heaved himself up, fetching the bowl from the corner, and slopping the eggs on. They spilled over the sides, but he didn't notice. He sat down at the table, ready to eat- but there was no room to set down the bowl. Oh well. He set the bowl down on the ground, got on all fours, and stuck his muzzle in. He closed his eyes and started to feast. For a few minutes, only the sound of lips smacking, loud chewing, and the occasional burp filled the apartment. Moments after that, he went down for another bite, and whined a bit- all gone. He glanced up- the meat. He could just finish the meat, couldn't- oh, wait. There's still eggs on the floor. Without thinking about it, he crawled over, licking the eggs off the floor, before standing. He grabbed the pan, brought it next to the bowl, and crouched by it, grabbing the cooling porkchops with his hands and tearing in, getting grease all over his hands, his face, and the ground. It only took him ten minutes to finish the rest. He sighed,s eeing the food gone- that meant it was bed time. So, off to bed he went.

The dog bowl became part of his routine, and soon, he thought nothing of it. He would fill the dog bowl, devour that, then eat anything that went on the ground. It occurred to him that's exactly what a dog would do, but he didn't mind. The grease gained from eating that way was starting to build up, t hough- it caked his chest and hands and face, matting his already greasy and dirty fur down further. One night, he was feeling particuarily lazy- without thinking, he got out all the usual stuff for his meal- raw meat, raw eggs, and milk- but instead of beginning to cook them, he dropped the raw meat on the floor, cracked the eggs in the dog bowl, and poured some milk in. Without a hesitation, he dug in.

After a few weeks of this, his apartment was absolutely disgusting- it smelled of bad meat, bad eggs, and the floor was filthy. He was disgusting, too- his clothes were way too small for him, his clothes were caked with sweat and filth, and he was possibly the worst smelling fur in the state. But he didn't mind, and neither did Tobias. So all was well.

One thursday, he walked in his apartment, sighing contentedly. Home. His couch sagged and had sweat stains, and his bed was buried beneath clothes. He slept on the floor, now. He sat down where he usually slept now, and looked to his left- there's that box. He's forgotten about the box. He pulled it over, and glanced in- a thing of mints, and a pink collar. He grabbed the mints- he could use some. It'd been weeks since he'd last brushed his teeth, his breath must stink. Without a second thought, he popped the whole container in his mouth, and tossed it aside. He swallowed without chewing, and went upon his buisness. Until just before dinner. His eyes were glazed over, and he had a slight headache, and if he'd been thinking at the moment, he'd almost be able to 'feel' two things- his IQ draining away, and his inhibitions draining away. He wouldn't be retarted by the end of it- just not exactly smart. Maybe a little dense.

His eyes caught the clock, and like magic, his mind cleared, and the headache lifted, back to normal, bar a bit of his intelligence, and all of his inhibitions. He groaned- dinner time. He would love to eat, but it was so far away... and besides, there was a throbbing pain in his bladder. What did that mean? Oh, right... he had to go up and use the toilet. But the toilet was backed up, had been for a few days- piss had puddled on the bathroom floor, and shit piled up over the rim. It was unusable. Still, he should go... he knew he should. But he didn't.

The chubby fox blinked, feeling his crotch grow warm. He frowned, looking up- there was a dark patch spreading around his crotch. It felt... good. It stank, though... it spread to the sides of his pants, then down his legs, and he could feel it was a liquid. What was it? He grunted a bit, feeling his ass begin to grow wet, a stain spreading on spreading on the couch. Oh, well, does it matter? He laid his head back, resting for a few minutes- when he opened his eyes, he realize he forgot to go piss. Grumbling, he sat himself up, before yelping a bit- he already did. The couch was soaked a bright yellow, and his bottom was completely soaked with it. He shrugged, standing in the puddle, and lumbering over to the fridge. It was the last meal packed in there, slightly bad meat, bad eggs, and rancid milk. He didn't even bother with the bowl- he dumped the carton of eggs on the ground, breaking them all open and releasing the sweet, sweet stench. He poured the rest of the milk on the ground, on the eggs, then slapped the meat on top. He got down on all fours, and began his feast. He wasn't done until an hour later- it was hard to eat it all, because the rotten egg yolk and the rancid milk spread all over the kitchen floor, and of course he had to lick it all up. Waste not, want not? He went to bed that night, with a stomach ache.

That morning, he woke up with a large pile of something squishy, pasty, and deliciously disgusting smelling between his legs, in his panties, bulging it out in a brown mass. He blinked in confusion, immediately plunging a hand down into the warm mess, and scooping it up. Shit? He grinned a bit, smearing it on his shirt, and wiping his paw off on his ass. He groaned, sat up, and eventually stood up, his brown-stained pants sagging below him. When he sat the first time on his couch, the chubby fox ended up pushing out almost all the scat out the edges of his pants, onto his previously white couch, now a piss-yellow. He laughed a bit, smearing a good handfull onto the couch, and started up his laptop, covered as it was in grime and grease. By the time he left that morning, shit lining his panties, his laptop keyboard had a good layer of brown sludge on it, too. He went about his day, avoided by literally everyone, no one wanting to be near this disgusting excuse for a fox- no one but Tobias.

That evening, he came back in. He was hungry- he'd skipped breakfast, and he needed food. He lumbered to the fridge, and whined unhappily- no food. He didn't want to go out and buy any, either. What was he to do? He sat on the floor with a squish, then paused. He slowly looked down at his shit-stained clothes. Shit was... food once, right? It was solid enough. Slowly, he reached a hand down there, and brought up a small handful. Hesitating for the first time in over a month, he slowly brought it do it mouth, and took a bite. The taste was...earthen, and the texture was creamy, almost, with little hard chunks of god knows what. The aftertaste was just horrible- and he sm iled softly. He loved it. He hurriedly undid his pants, slipping them off, and stuck his head inside it, licking out and eating all the shit that resided there with a contented groan, dressed in nothing but his now-brown and yellow shirt, and brown, sagging, tearing panties, with hints of pink. He pulled back after a few minutes, shit smeared all over his face. He needed more...he stood, lumbering to the bathroom, and kneeling in the pool of piss. He looked down at the filled toilet, flies buzzing around it. He grinned greedily, and feasted.

By morning, the toilet was completely clean, the bathroom floor was devoid of piss, the couch no longer had a pile of shit on it, and the fox lay on the ground, passed out cold, with shit dribbling out of his mouth. His legs were spread, and his panties were in tatters, torn by the sheer amount of shit being forced through it. His ass, crotch, upper legs, and stomach was covered in a steaming mass of soft, mallable shit, surrounded by a large puddle of urine. The door opened- a certain husky walked in with a satisfied grin, taking in the site. The fridge was left open, his laptop was on the ground next to him, covered in shit and grime and grease, the bedroom impassable, The husky smirked softly, closing the door behind him and locking it. He leaned over, grabbing the pink collar, and holding it in his hands. He leaned down, and snapped it around Ky's neck.

The husky unzipped his pants, paused a bit, and took them off. He took off his shirt, leaving him only in a tight, yellowed, jock strap. He slid the strap down, and the fox woke up with a stream of warm piss covering his face. He spluttered a moment, but caught a taste, and groaned, opening his mouth and swallowing as much as he could. He rubbed his eyes and looked up- for a moment, his old life was still there. "T-Tobias..?" he slurred, looking up at his shit-covered crotch. "What are..." Tobias smirked, leaned down, and flicked the collar. The fox slurred, stuttered, then fell silent as a warm, numbing feeling spread over him. After a few moments, he looked up. "M-Master?" he murmured softly. Tobias nodded, slipping off his jack. "Master." he confirmed. "Boy, we're going to have fun. Understand? You're going to eat so much... but first, shouldn't we clean this apartment?" A slight pause. "With your tongue?"