A Rabbit Tale: The Mirror | Chapter VIII [Comm] (Patreon)

Chapter VIII

Two weeks later, Marisa finally managed to make an arrangement with a fur to come over during the day to take care of Fievel while she was out at work. The otter had told her that she would be okay taking care of an adult-sized baby, and that she had experience in dealing with oversized charges in the past. This came as a big relief to Marisa, who had been worrying that she would be forced to work nights while she took care of Fievel during the day.

Marisa had messaged back and forth with the twenty-something year old female otter, Annie. She had been fully informed of the strange happenings to her husband’s mental and incontinent state, to which the marine mammal appeared receptive. She had been reassured that Fievel would be in the best of paws while she was out of the house, and had no problem keeping him fed, clean, and entertained. Marisa really hoped this was the case, and invited the otter over for a day while she hovered around making sure that Annie really did know what she was doing.

Fievel appeared a little shy at first at this newcomer, and was a little fussy during his diaper change. To Marisa’s satisfaction, Annie did not lose patience and even appeared to demonstrate some affection for the adult male rabbit’s fussiness. She had cooed over him, gently wiping him down and praising him for being a good little rabbit kit for her while she covered him in puppy powder. Fievel too eventually warmed up, and Marisa was pleased to see that he ended up falling asleep in Annie’s arms while she was feeding him his evening bottle.

As Annie was about to leave, she and Marisa had an exchange where the rabbit told her that she was fit for the job. Annie appeared quite pleased at this, telling her that she would be willing to accept the gig full time in line with Marisa’s work schedule. Her rates were very reasonable as well, which made Marisa wonder whether the otter enjoyed the line of work more than she claimed.

Regardless of the fact, Fievel had a new fan favorite, and would sometimes even ask for where she was in a very small voice when he was alone with Marisa. He still loved Marisa the most, she could tell, but unlike the rabbit the otter appeared to derive an immense amount of satisfaction from taking care of Fievel. Marisa was okay with this, however, as she started to work and their income was finally beginning to tick back into the positive.

“Fievel, did someone make a stinky?”

Annie posed, as she leaned over the rails of the playpen Fievel was sitting in. The rabbit looked up innocently, the distinct bulge in the back of his onesie confirming her suspicions immediately in addition to the earthy odor in the air. The rabbit would often relieve himself subconsciously, only noticing a slight relief of pressure in his tummy as he remained enraptured by the cartoons on the TV. The rabbit shook his head, his pacifier bobbing to and fro in his muzzle as he gave her a blank look.

The otter clucked her tongue, shaking her head at the rabbit’s fibbing before climbing into the playpen herself. Leaning down, she scooped the rabbit up and hefted him into her arms. She deposited him on his hip, the contents of his padding giving a muffled squish as they adjusted themselves against her body. The rabbit needed multiple diaper changes a day, despite the fact that his diet had mostly become liquid. Feeding him solid food was tricky at times, and he had become much more receptive to receiving his nutrition in the form of a vitamin supplement bottle.

“Come on little bun, let’s get you into a fresh diaper and give your afternoon bottle, hmm?”

Annie hummed, to which Fievel responded with a muffled, “Bowtle…” giving his confirmation. She carried him into the bedroom, where she took care of his mess within a few minutes. After placing the final tape into place and giving his tummy a little scritch, she rebuttoned his onesie before picking him up underneath the armpits once more. She was an Amazonian river otter, making it so that she was a good double the size of Fievel. Her strong arms and athletic physique made it so she could balanced Marisa on one hip and Fievel on the other with little effort.

Despite himself, the male rabbit very much enjoyed the sensation of security the large mammal offered when she ferried him from one place to another, and would often cuddle up against Annie’s shoulder as she did so. They continued into the kitchen, where inside of the refrigerator Marisa kept the store of prepared bottles to be fed to Fievel throughout the day.

“Strawberry milk, let’s give you that one.”

Fievel nodded eagerly, a thin line of drooling dangling from the guard of his pacifier at the prospect of one of his favorite flavors. Carried the bottle and rabbit into the living room, Annie sat herself down on the couch and positioned the rabbit in her lap. Taking his pacifier out of his muzzle and letting it hang from his clip, she offered the nipple of the bottle to his nuzzle. He greedily accepted, and his eyelids drooped downwards as he fell into the familiar stupor of allowing his lips to do the work. Fievel dozed softly, a sensation of contentedness falling over him as he lapsed into the familiar routine.

The rabbit would usually consume up to five or six bottles a day, which made it so that he was almost perpetually in a soggy state of padding. In order to accommodate this, Marisa tended to give his diapers one to two booster pads, as he would wet himself slightly usually every fifteen minutes or so. The rabbit had lost complete control of his bladder, and would not last in a pair of adult pants for much longer than the duration it would take to coax them over his legs.

As Fievel was nearing the end of the bottle’s capacity, Annie began to softly praise him under her breath for being such an eager, hungry bunny and for finishing his bottle.

“Such a good little boy, you’re almost done. Little bunny needs his strawberry milk in his tummy, huh? Such a hungry little guy…”

Fievel murmured an unintelligible response back, as at last the contents of the bottle was finished. Gently detaching the nipple from his muzzle, Annie carefully placed the empty bottle on the coffee room table before turning her attention back to Fievel. She cuddled him, and she watched with satisfaction as his eyes grew heavier and heavier until they closed. He was cuddled up close to her breast, one of which was almost as large as his head. The rabbit was petit in comparison to her, and subconsciously he felt subordinate to her due to her maternal behavior and significant size difference.

This was becoming relatively routine, as he would often spend the later half of the afternoons dozing in Annie’s lap. She would occasionally reach her hand over to his padded front, giving it a slight squeeze to check just how much he had piddled himself. That, or she would lovingly cup the bottom of his diaper, pushing it up and down slightly to assess whether the adult rabbit had soiled his padding. More than once had he let out a soft grunt, followed by the sound of muffled flatulence before he readily messed himself in her lap. He had no qualms about it, as the original embarrassment of such an act was completely lost on him.

The rabbit had only a few words at his disposal now, and they mostly revolved around

Marisa, Annie, and the aspects of being taken care of like a baby. He was now completely unable to operate a computer, let alone the television remote, and other than occasionally being trusted to finish a bottle by himself he was relatively dependent on all aspects of his life being administered by either Marisa or Annie. Marisa was telling herself that this likely was simply the peak of whatever Fievel was going through, and had hoped that perhaps she would be able to turn things around if she coaxed the rabbit in the right direction.

For now, however, Fievel was helpless. If he did not have his diaper tended to or his bottle given at the right time, he would be stuck feeling messy or hungry without a hope in the world to do something about it himself. Marisa and Annie were there for him, and for that he felt grateful. He had been growing more and more attached to Marisa as the weeks went by, and had attempted to even nurse from her breast multiple times. Marisa was still not as of yet ready to perform such a task, even though she was looking forward to it. She would cluck her tongue, gently moving Fievel’s probing muzzle away from her bosom and gently tell him that it was not time yet for such an activity. The idea was tantalizing, however, and the sweet innocence that covered her husband’s face when he was nursing from his bottle was a mental image she enjoyed revisiting when she was busy at work.

For now, she was happy to simply keep Fievel content. He would be in a cheerful mood for most of the time when his diaper was not in desperate need of being addressed. The oversized baby bunny would eagerly chew on the ears of his stuffed animals, clumsily play with the blocks that littered the inside of his crib, and laugh and clap along with the shenanigans that the cartoon characters on the television shows got up to. Marisa would enjoy the sight, as despite the hassles it would appear that her husband had discovered a newfound innocence in his life that adults their age could never dream of achieving once more. It was a sight to see, and Marisa was there to ensure that her husband’s happiness was her top priority, as she knew he would want to do for her in return.