Test Subject ID: 19B | Day 00-00 [Reward] (Patreon)

Test Day 00-00

A dull ache registered towards the back of Fox’s head, waking him from the deep, dreamless slumber he had been immersed in. It felt reminiscent of a hangover, though the canine did not recall having anything to drink the night before. In fact, try as he might, he could not remember anything from the previous evening. In the lethargic recesses of his mind, still half asleep, he arrived at the assumption that he must have drunk so much that he had blacked out. He could deal with that later, as for the time being trying to fall back asleep as to avoid each throb hazy pain in his mind was the only thing he wanted.

He felt a little uncomfortable too, his limbs feeling tight and constrained, as though he had fallen asleep in an awkward position. Not wanting to cut circulation off from his extremities even if he was hung over, Fox tried to readjust himself into a more comfortable position. The resistance he found was confusing to him, as while he was experiencing a strange sensation of weightlessness he was unable to move his arms. His ankle twitched, his foot jerking upwards as he tried to move his legs. They remained relatively free, but the fact that no matter how much he moved them they did not seem to encounter any solid resistance.

Fox was finding that the puzzle of where exactly he was was beginning to vie with the desire to remain asleep. He did not feel like moving anymore, let alone opening his eyes and allowing the light to exacerbate what was no doubt a delicate and ruthless migraine. Fox tried to mumble a complaint, groaning out his displeasure to nobody in particular. Something was weighing down on his tongue. He worked his jaw around the strange item lodged in his muzzle, noting that it was round and confirmed nicely to the interior of his maw.

Did I fall asleep with something in my mouth..?

He wondered faintly, once more attempting to readjust himself and perhaps pull a pillow over his head. Squirm as he might, he was unable to properly adjust himself. This was beginning to frustrate the canine, as now with the added frustration of being muted by an unknown foreign object the inability to move had doubly annoyed him. Deciding that he might as well get up and force himself to drink some water, he tentatively opened his eyes.

The sight that he beheld was in fact more water than he could ever hope to drink in one go, let alone a week. Through what appeared to be a plastic visor covering the top half of his face, the canine squinted as he tried to make out the environment he was in. Confused, he lifted his head upwards to see a pair of tube-like straps keeping him suspended in whatever liquid he was currently floating in. He took in a sharp breath, grateful then that one of the tubes was leading directly into his muzzle, allowing him to breathe through the rubbery bulb between his teeth. Utterly confused, he glanced down to cross his eyes and examine what exactly was protruding from his mouth. He could feel several straps secured around the back of his head keeping the tube in place, a plastic cover was placed over his nostrils in order to prevent, he presumed, from any inhalation of the liquid he was in.

As his pupils adjusted to the light, he lifted his muzzle upwards to examine the container he was floating in. It appeared cylindrical, the glass surrounding him distorting the outside of the pod so profoundly that he was unable to make out anything distinct. His lethargy now being replaced with a sense of panic, he wiggled once more to find that his arms remained fixedly bound over his chest. He looked down, and was just able to see over the lip of his visor that his arms were bound snuggly over his torso. He could feel several straps keeping the restrictive article of clothing running between his legs, pressing against his fuzzy, inner thighs as they remained stubbornly locked into place.

Fox tried to recall what had happened to him last night that he would end up in such a profoundly confusing predicament. Whether or not he had agreed to some ludicrous dare was not off the table, although he did not know that any of his friends would have the resources to pull something like this off. He racked his hazy brain, pushing against the soft cloud that seemed to be pressing down on his ability to think.

From the corner of his vision, the canine noted movement to his left. Lethargically, he shifted his muzzle towards the direction, and was just able to make out the visage of two furs striding towards the cylinder. As they approached, their images became somewhat clear, and Fox noted that a rather tall, professional looking female husky sporting a lab coat was scribbling something down on a clipboard she held in one paw. Beside her, a slightly shorter, female German Shepherd walked closely on the authoritative figure of the husky, her torso encased in what appeared to look like a bathing suit. There was something off about the swim-wear, however, as it appeared to be bulging out dramatically at her midsection.

Through the glass and pale blue water, Fox could just barely make out their muffled voices conversing with one another. Judging by their body language, their subject of conversation appeared to be involving him.

“Mmmm! Mmm-mmm!”

Fox tried to say something, his moans muffled and rendered almost completely muted by both the gag in his muzzle and the thick layer of glass separating them. The two ignored him, as the husky continued to take several meticulous notes while occasionally turning to address the German Shepherd. The smaller of the two canines nodded once after what appeared to be the receiving of a command issued by the lab coated-wearing canine. The shepherd turned, walking away with some difficulty which Fox guessed might have had something to do with the strange puffiness of her waist.

More alert than he had been previously, Fox watched with wide eyes as the husky finally turned her attention towards him, leaning close to the glass and thus making her face even more apparent to him. She smiled primly, icey blue eyes staring at him as if he were a fine catch on a hunting trip. Fox looked down at her pearly canines, contorted in what appeared to be a hungry grin. He had no ability to respond, as he could only wriggle helplessly in the bounds that kept him helpless.

The husky tapped the glass with the rubber end of her pencil, as if demonstrating a point, the stark contrast of the black and white fur patterning running across her face giving her a commanding presence. Whoever she was, she clearly had something to do with Fox ending up suspended in his glass prison. Fox watched as she departed, moaning quietly after her as she left him to his own devices. Fox wanted answers, but most of all he wanted to be free to move about and ask them under his own autonomy.

“MMmm! Mmmpf…. MMMM!”

Fox felt himself growing tired quickly as he continued to struggle, his stamina depleting as he pushed not only against the sleeve harness keeping him bound but also the water around him. The resistance it offered felt weightier than the water of the swimming pools he had swam in before. Whatever it was, it was not made entirely of H2O, that much he could guess. Still, the arrival to that conclusion had strained his brain more than he had anticipated it would have, and after another few seconds he relaxed his muscles.

A moment later, the canine felt something acidic light upon his tongue. He recoiled, realizing now that whatever gas was being pumped through his air tube had changed in composition. He reared his head back, trying desperately to maneuver himself and the tubes in a manner where he could pinch them closed. Surely if he started to suffocate himself, they would have no other choice than to intervene. The idea sparked some hope in his mind at potentially freeing himself, and he began to thrash about with resumed vigor.

With each movement, however, he could feel his muscles becoming heavier and harder to manipulate. Fox’s eyes became half-lidded, fatigue washing over him like a warm, cozy blanket on a fall afternoon. He blinked once, finding that he no longer had the strength to struggle. The acidic taste increased in intensity, and before he had had a chance to properly leverage himself the poor canine was once more falling into a dreamless slumber.