Mica waves 'goodbye' out the window as the car backs out of the driveway, his pa rents inside

on their way to a Valentine's day dinner. He waits by the window, w atching until the car disappears around a corner in the road a few hundred meter s from their small house, and keeps watching even after, his heart beating quick ly in his chest. Five minutes pass, then ten, and even though he's certain they' re not coming back at this point, his face still reddens at the thought of them returning to collect something they'd forgot, and finding him... Finally, his heart pounding anxiously, he pulls the curtains closed and hurries to his room, closing the door behind him. He checks out the window, knowing nobo dy's there but needing to look anyway to satisfy his own paranoia, and closes hi s curtains, too, then quickly walks to his closet, pulling out a stool. Climbing up onto it, he reaches up into the very top of the closet, in the very back, an d pulls out an old cardboard box labelled 'Shoes'. He lifts the box down from th e shelf and sets it on his bed, pulling off the top. The label he'd written onto the box when he'd hidden it there so long ago wasn't a complete lie... there were shoes in the box, among other things. With a wide smile on his face, he reaches into the box and pulls out something white and puf fy, setting it down on the bed. Taking a deep breath, he quickly pulls off his s hirt, tossing it onto the floor, then unbuttons his pants, peeling them and his underwear off and adding them, too, to the pile. He stands there for a moment, n aked, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, his white-furred sheath thick, his pink tip poking from it, his long, fur-less tail flicking from side to side behi nd him. He reaches down and picks up the object he'd set on the bed, unfolding t he large diaper, running his paws through it, closing his eyes as he enjoys the feel of the padding on his fingers. He lays it on his bed, pulling the stool over, and steps onto the stool, slowly lowering his firm, white-furred rear onto the diaper, gasping softly as he feels the padding beneath him. He reaches back and pokes his tail through the hole in the back of the diaper, pulling it up tight around his rump, then lifts up the front, folding it over his balls and sheath slowly, pressing it against himself. He sits there for a moment, savouring the feeling before tightening it, and fas tening both halves together, taping himself into it. He wriggles inside it, slow ly standing up and stretching his legs, walking over to a tall stand mirror on h is closet door and admiring himself for a moment, smiling wide, before walking b ack to the bed and reaching into the box once more. This time, he pulls out a long pair of stockings, and a white laced garter belt. Sitting on the bed once more, he lifts up one of his bare feet and slowly rolls the stocking onto it, hurrying a little, but doing his best to make sure it's e ven and strait. When he's satisfied, he lifts up the other foot, and rolls on th e second stocking, standing up again once he's finished. He fastens the garter b elt around his waist, clipping it onto the stockings and returning once again to admire himself in the mirror, from the front and back, a small tent forming in the front of his diaper. He returns once again to the box, this time coming out with a small red skirt. H e holds it up, smiling at it before slipping first one leg, then the other into it and slowly pulling it up, over his garter belt and diaper, using the mirror t o make sure it's properly aligned. He goes once more to the box, and pulls out another item - a short sleeved, red belly shirt. He pulls it over his head, pulling it down his chest, the bottom st opping just below his ribcage, leaving a scandalous six inches of his white fur beneath it. His favorite item in the box - a thick, pink puppy's collar, with a silver tag r eading simply 'Slut' on it, comes out last. He runs it through his fingers, his

heart pounding, unable to stop smiling at the feel of the leather and the sound of the jingling tag. He slowly puts it around his neck, buckling it in place, an d returning once again to the mirror to make sure everything is just so. He squi rms in delight, returning to the bed once more, and sets the box on the floor, r eaching over to his computer and making sure the webcam is aimed properly, and r ecording. He turns around, kneeling on the bed on his paws and knees, tail flicking back a nd forth behind him, and slowly wiggles his rear for the camera, the bottom of h is diaper clearly visible beneath the red skirt. Closing his eyes, he reaches ba ck with one paw, placing it on his leg and unhooking his carefully arranged gart er belt from one stocking. With a firm squeeze, he slides his paw down his leg, pushing the stocking down, imagining his Master pulling it from him. Panting a l ittle, he slides his paw back up his leg, under the skirt, pulling it up roughly , exposing his diapered rear. His paw slides into the diaper, then, firmly grabb ing hold of his white-furred rear, squeezing it hard, the mouse imagining his Ma ster inspecting his little girl, surveying his property. He grabs the top of his diaper, pulling it down just enough to reveal his tight tailhole, seeing in his mind his Master stepping up behind him, ready to claim him, mark him as his own , and make a proper little bitch of him... The sound of the door shutting quickly snaps him back to reality, and he sits up fast, heart pounding. He quickly pulls off the red shirt, the matching skirt, t he garter belt and stockings, and throws them into the box. He unfastens the dia per, putting it in the box, too, ignoring the small sticky stain in the front. H e unbuckles the collar slowly, reverently placing it, too, in the box, pushing i t beneath his bed quickly, with one last longing look in its direction before he rushes to his computer, stops the webcam and, still naked, sends off his video to his Master with a quickly typed note - 'Happy Valentine's Day, Master', signi ng it 'From: Yuka'.