Someday I will figure out a regular schedule for these. But enjoy!

Modern Appliances

Soup was a wonderful food. Krystal's father was good at whipping up a fine stew, to the watering mouths of her and her mother and sister. The thought of that food now was a bittersweet memory, but it was the reason why soup was among her favorite foods. So she was happy to see that in the local super market Fox was introducing her too on Corneria, there appeared to be a large selection of—and this fascinated her—canned soups, and soups that came in these strange clear cups.

"You look pleased," said Fox.

"The variety is pleasant," said Krystal, smiling and looking up and down the rows. Despite the super market's small size Krystal felt a tad overwhelmed. It reminded her of the small bazaars on Cerinia. "Fox? These look odd."

She was pointing to one of the clear cups. "Oh? Those are microwavable," Fox answered.

"Yes, and what does that mean?" Krystal asked.

"Oh yeah! You don't know about that yet," said Fox, smiling and wagging his tail. "Here. Let me buy one for you and show you."

Krystal picked a cup of chicken noodle soup, and Fox purchased it for her. Back at the apartment, Fox showed her a small rectangular device in his kitchen that looked like a similar device in the Great Fox's kitchen. It had a window in the front, and number buttons.

"This is a microwave. The most convenient way to cook something," said Fox.

"I fail to see how this can cook something," said Krystal, crossing her arms.

"Well, let me show you," said Fox. He opened the cup of soup, peeled off a plastic covering and placed the lid back on, and put the cup on a dish in the microwave. He dialed in the number thirty and closed the door, pressed a green button, and the machine began to hum quietly as the dish turned in place.

The machine beeped at the end of the time, and Fox placed the hot cup on the counter. Krystal grabbed a spoon, opened the cup, and took a bite.

She stared at the little machine for a while, during which Fox began to giggle.

"Oh," said Krystal. "Now that is amazing."

"Oh, I have so much to show you, Krystal," said Fox, patting her on the back.

Part 2

Washing day was a humdrum day in Fox's apartment. It involved sitting in the kitchen, drinking a soda, and doing work while the washer and dryer whirred away. There was comfort in how normal the day was for Fox. Even famed fighter pilots needed to wash their clothes, like everybody else.

This washing day was going to be different. It was the first time Krystal would be trying out the washer and dryer, and currently she was gathering up her clothes for Fox to show her how the machines worked.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and stopping behind him. He turned around, and dropped his empty soda can to the floor.

Krystal stood there, naked as the day she was born, holding her clothes basket with a happy and expectant look. Her tail was wagging.

"Hulloo!" she said. "So how does it work, Foxy?"

Fox turned away. "K-Krys! Why are you naked?"

"Hmm?" said Krystal. "Fox, it's washing day. Don't we wash all our clothes? Actually, why aren't you naked?"

"I mean," said Fox, trying to deal with the fact that a very naked Krystal was behind him, "you leave some clothes in reserve so you don't have to go n-naked."

"Oh," said Krystal. "You know, the nudity taboos here are overly pervasive." She sounded disappointed.

Keeping it together with that naked image in his head was proving almost impossible. Fox kept it together just enough to remain somewhat coherent.

"Let m-me give you something t-to wear while I show you how the machines work," said Fox. He ran up to his room to grab a bathrobe. Krystal put it on—even though it didn't do a good enough job covering her bosom, which Fox was both bothered and thankful for. Krystal smiled at him once she put it on. There was a slightly suggestive glint to that smile, he thought.

"Thank you Foxy," she said. "Just something to know for next time."

"No worries," said Fox, still blushing. "Just a mistake."

He showed how the washer and dryer operated, how to wash whites—and in her case, delicates—all the while still thinking about her naked form. She had to know how much he couldn't get it out of his head.

And when she walked back upstairs to grab a book to wait for her clothes, she added an extra swish to her tail and hips. And that, almost certainly, was not accidental.