Vixen Society - Cycle 6

Vixen Society

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  Beginning / Before / After / Last

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Cycle 6

When she was finished eating, Vincent stood up and stretched for a second, letting her ears spread up as far as they would go and her tails all splay out straight briefly before the four of them went back to wriggling around each other like so many fluffy tentacles. Luca got up to take the dishes to the sink. "So uh, hey! Was it, good?" he said. "I was trying out a new recipe, but I worked super hard on it 'cause I wanted to make sure you had something to enjoy, uh, in case the pranks didn't do anything to cheer you up..." He was on his way over to the sink, and particularly the rug in front of it. Vincent thought about not warning him, but realized that could mean some dropped and then broken plates.

"Hey, dummy, stop!" The slightest twitch of her will sent a gust of wind coming at him from his front side, slowing his advance just enough for him to not put his feet on the bubble wrap before coming to a halt. "You're gonna scare yourself again. Here." Vincent ran up and waved her hand, more wind sweeping the rug up and the bubble wrap away, up and around in an arc to her hand—then setting the rug down again. "There."
"Oh, heheh, yeah. I totally forgot!" Luca said. "Thanks."

While he worked on the dishes he said, "Soo, you have uh..? Wind powers?"

"Guess so." The four-tailed fox-girl turned toward the entrance they'd used to the room to find a mess of confetti and ripped newspaper there, and crossed her arms. Given his track record so far for cleaning up, this stuff was probably going to make Luca trip seventeen or so times before he decided to sweep it up. "Far from the only thing I can do, but it feels weirdly natural." She made a slight gesture with a hand, summoning a miniature whirlwind suck it all up and deposit it into a garbage can for him.

Luca turned to watch this feat in amazement. "That's actually super cool! Isn't it?"
"Pretty sweet, I guess."

"So, so, it's not so bad that I kinda accidentally girled you, I guess?"
"Oh, whatever. Blaming you for this is like blaming wood for catching on fire." She went over to him, reaching over to ruffle his hair again. "Anywhere there's a gullible victim, the sharks are bound to come closing in."

"H-heheh...sorry." He blushed and chuckled nervously in response to her touch, grinning a little bit. The vixen was starting to feel like this reaction out of him wasn't quite enough; she wanted more. Thinking about what a kitten he was, she knew of a way to arrange that. But she needed to reel him in, first.
"Hey, your living room's a gigantic mess by the way. Let's clean that up too, seeing how I'm a living vacuum cleaner now." She swept around and went that way, prompting him to excitedly follow.

"Uh—wa, wait! I've got all that stuff carefully organized for my work! And hobbies, and stuff..."

---

Troy could barely believe it: Carter's car pulling up to his place, early. He tried to push back his hope with more reasonable thoughts—maybe she was early by accident today; maybe she wouldn't even get out of the car until the others showed up. But get out she did, and he could see her out the window, those amazing ears and that big, fluffy tail out behind her...! However, any hope of her saying yes this time faded when he read her body language. Her ears were folded way back, her tail barely moving, and—well, there was also a big frown on her face, too. So..she was angry.

That made him a little nervous, to be honest. What kind of horrible things could an angry Kitsune, with all their magical powers, do? But even then, he'd take it. He went to the door and waited for a knock before answering. "Uhh, hey—"
"Coming in." She pushed past him, tossing the door shut on her way, and then stood a short ways inside the door, glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. Every bit of her posture, and her canine features too, communicated stress and anger, but she didn't say anything for a long moment. There wasn't even any growling.

"Something—"
"I'm doing an intervention here," she snapped over him, like she'd been waiting for him to say something just so she could verbally pounce on it. "What is your problem, man?!"

He was confused by both the statement and the question. "I don't—"
"Don't even tell me, you don't have a problem! Look—I get it, I'm hot, and every guy I know has to take a chance to hit on me at least once. I'd hit on me too, sure. But every other guy knows what it means when I say no! Why do you keep doing it?!"

"Uh—" Troy's voice sort of caught in his throat. "I—" Carter crossed her arms, waiting patiently for him to form a satisfactory answer, but he didn't really have one. "Look, I'm not gonna give you any dumb excuse," he said, scratching the back of his head. "My whole life, I've kinda fantasized about people, I guess cute girls especially, with big fuzzy ears and fluffy tails, and...suddenly a couple of years ago, I find out they're real, but I, still don't know any, and...you just.." He gestured vaguely in her direction. "I'd do anything to even get close to someone like that."
"I guess us being friends isn't close enough, though? Huh!?"
"I didn't even notice it was stressing you out this much!" Troy said. "I mean—like, I shoulda, but I..fooled myself in to thinking you were enjoying it, I guess." He felt ashamed—he knew very well the body language she'd given him ever since the second night he tried to ask her out had been stressed, upset, unhappy, but he'd kept telling himself he was just reading her wrong, or she—being a Kitsune and all—was just messing with him. It was a lie he'd invented entirely for himself. He'd never acted this way toward any other woman before, and he was sure he'd judged other guys for being this way for pretty much his entire life.

"Uh...I really messed things up, huh. Guess 'sorry' doesn't really cover it," he said.

"Nope. You can't just apologize for something, you have to not do it again," she said. "You gonna leave me alone from now on? Act like I'm still one of the guys, like everyone else learned to last week?"

"I can do that, but..you're not, I mean—I won't still make you uncomfortable, being around?"
Carter crossed her arms, glaring at him. "It'll take me some time, but as long as you stop, I can act like an adult and get over it. But right now, I'm still mad, so I'm gonna make myself feel better by cursing you."

"Uh—c-curse!?" Troy staggered back slightly.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm not just some fox-girl, I'm a Kitsune, which means I have powers," she said, advancing a small step toward him. She paused then, strangely, to make an aside: "Look, it's not gonna hurt you or anything, and I'll dispel it later if you want. But you should be punished for being a jerk, or else you'll never learn. So hold. Still." Near the end of this, she raised her right hand, and an eerie red, firelike glow began to surround it.

In the face of actual magic, and still reeling from the entire rest of the conversation, Troy just sort of froze up and stood in place. What was he going to do, run away from her after she forgave him? Leave his own house to get away from her? She could probably curse him from behind, or a long distance away, if she wanted, and letting him know about the curse was practically a courtesy. So she took the opportunity to step forward and place the blazing hand square in the center of his chest. It didn't feel like anything but her hand, but the glow spread out from there to envelop his entire body.

Carter softly cleared her throat, then recited (or maybe incanted): "Take from my hand this canine curse, for being annoying, obtuse, and perverse!" After that she dropped her hand and stepped back, and the glow suddenly flickered out, like it had never been there in the first place.

"...Uhh..?" Troy took a moment to look around, and to examine himself, and didn't see any evidence that the curse had actually done anything besides glow. "Did that...doo...anything?"
"Sure. I feel better already," Carter said, her body language agreeing with this. It was a neutral expression she had on now, not a particularly happy one, but that was indeed an improvement.

"No, I mean—"
"Oh, it's one of those 'delayed-action' curses," she said, turning away and waving dismissively. "So you have to stress about what it's gonna do until it actually starts up. You won't notice anything 'till after our game, at least."

"Oh..okay...?"

Troy took a mental step back while he watched her walk farther inside. He knew full well that Kitsune were tricksters, and could make illusions like glowy lights and things easily enough. He wasn't particularly familiar with them cursing people—that was more of a demon/witch thing, right? Maybe she was just messing with him...but then, maybe she wasn't. He couldn't completely dismiss the possibility that he really had been cursed after all.

Either way, he acted like everything was cool during the game, and it seemed like Carter definitely enjoyed herself a lot more as a result. Really evaluating things carefully, Troy noticed that it wasn't just her seeming less stressed—the friction from her because of what he'd been doing had been straining the whole group. He felt a little worse about it once he realized that, but also even better that he'd stopped—maybe even grateful that the fox-girl had blown up at him like that before things got irreparably bad.

---

Angus was actually a pretty fascinating guy. He had a lot of interesting stories to tell from his long life, although it was possible that not all of them were true. Oliver enjoyed his time eating with the old man much more than he'd honestly expected to. Of course, those stories were peppered with complaints about how awful his life had become in the past few years, but that was forgivable. Oliver wondered if he would've had an easier time himself if he'd just had someone to vent to during the worst time of his life.

What the old man really wanted was a job, and a home—job first, he said. He wanted to be useful to someone, work with his hands one way or another, and thereby make the pay for a better life. The desire to be useful and not just happier was something Oliver respected; it made him feel like his own view of things had been upside-down all along.

"Tell me the truth there, Oliver. You're really not some sorta big shot?"
"No. I'm..barely out of a pretty horrible time in my life myself, to be honest. I live in a tiny apartment, and I'm still hugely in debt," he said, taking the opportunity to complain a little bit himself. "My job sucks, and I'm—well, I used to be hugely overweight and have just zero energy, but I've been working on that lately. I've still got a ways to go before I'll even be what I can call 'stable'."
"Ehh, you're young, you'll bounce back," Angus said. "But if you could give me a job, any job—don't care how hard or demeaning—would you?"
"Listen," Oliver said, leaning forward slightly. "If I ever find myself in a position where I can hire somebody for a job, you'll be the first person I come to."

"You promise that?"
"Yeah, you've got a Deal." Oliver's mind seemed to settle on that particular word as though it had a special significance that he wasn't used to it having, as though it should be rendered with a capital letter. He stuck out a hand across the table and Angus shook it, and then Oliver had the strange sense that the agreement was now particularly binding—not impossible to get out of, but...difficult.

But he didn't regret making it all the same. For as unlikely as he was to be in any such position any time soon, he'd happily recommend someone like Angus to anyone he could. And just agreeing to 'come to' him didn't guarantee he'd get the job or anything, so Oliver could technically fulfill the terms of this agreement without all that much effort anyway.

A short while after that, Angus made good on his promise to pay, too. He even put in a pretty generous tip, noting that the waiter had worked hard serving them and deserved it, 'especially with the way waiters get paid nowadays'." Then, as they stood up to go, it was time for Oliver to spring the rest of his trick on everyone.

On their way out of the restaurant, everyone saw (and smelled) Angus for how he really was. The workers at the restaurant, from the waiters to the host to the manager—and all the customers, too—turned and watched the two of them leave, too stunned by this sudden change of appearance to say a single thing. They walked briskly out and went back to Angus's perch across the street before anyone could even think of something to say.

"Well, it's been fun, son. You let me know if you want to go out somewhere again," Angus said, shaking his hand once more.
"Sure. We can go dutch next time," Oliver offered, and got a friendly nod back. After that, he went his way back to his apartment, getting himself a good block away before allowing himself to start laughing.

"Haahahahah!" Even then, he hid it from view and from everyone else's ears. Just thinking of the expressions everyone had given, realizing the kind of person they'd served. Imagining the conversations the people who hadn't even noticed Angus being 'fully dressed' before were having with everyone who'd come up close enough to see him that way! And after he'd paid up and tipped well! Those people were going to have to think twice about how they evaluated people coming into their doors, Oliver thought—if they knew what was good for them, at least.

Going the rest of the way to his apartment, Oliver realized: He hadn't had a good laugh like that in a long time. Nothing but slight, pathetic grins or chuckles at whatever humor there was on TV. It had felt great, and now he couldn't wait for the next time he had an opportunity to fool people in such an entertaining way!

---

Kieran awoke in the same slow, mostly-asleep kind of way that he had nearly every morning since his roommate became a pink-haired fox-girl. The difference was that this time, unlike most of the prior two weeks, nobody and nothing came along to interrupt him. He turned over onto his side, wriggled around under the covers, and kept his eyes tightly shut. There was this strange, impossible thought fixed in his head that his wish wouldn't be granted if he didn't keep dreaming for just a little bit longer—even if he had to do that dreaming here in the real world, while awake—and because of this thought, he tried his hardest not to wake up any more than he already was.

He could remember the soft, brown housecat that he'd watched—that he'd been—in that dream vividly: its soft, fuzzy ears and long, slim tail. He could remember it so very, very well that his ears were beginning to stretch and spread themselves out—remembering their shape from the dream in a very physical sort of way. The growth of fur made them tingle, faintly at first and then steadily sharper, until they had grown big and tall, a pair of huge furry triangles poking out well past his hair, one of them folded awkwardly off to one side to keep itself from being fully sandwiched between his head and the pillow.

His tail, too, began to remember itself, stretching its way out from the base of his spine. The feeling of its soft, sensitive fur slowly playing across the sheets around him drew a strange sound from his throat, a low "Rrrrr~rrrh" kind of noise that he only very gradually recognized as a purr. As the tail kept on getting longer and longer—far outpacing its size in his dream in order to match his larger, human body—his purring was joined by a sensation of mild change in his teeth. He could remember his mouth being that of a predator—but his mouth itself only remembered a few key teeth, stretching only those out into some feline fangs.

Kieran knew now, as his tail reached its full length, that he was part cat. This seemed..good, like a step in the right direction, and yet he didn't quite feel like his wish had been granted yet. He kept his eyes shut and turned over, slowly, onto his front—freeing a pinched ear in the process. He shuddered slightly as his face landed on top of the pillow, feeling more tingling spread from the base of his ears to across his scalp and face, through the neck and on downward, falling like a river all the way down his body. He could feel the hair on his head flowing out at the same time as this tingling, soft locks making their way out in front of his face and falling all around it, sliding down his neck and then farther and farther along his back. He wouldn't be covered in fur like a real cat, but this way there'd at least be more hair to keep him warm, even as the rest of his skin grew increasingly soft and smooth.

"Mnh..mrr~roowh..?" A confused mewing sound came from Kieran's lips as he tried, while still at least half-asleep, to understand why his wish still hadn't been fully granted yet. What was still missing..? His bleary mind thought back through all of the experiences the cat in his dream, and asked a question it hadn't during the whole thing, a rather un-dreamer-like "why?" Why had the cat been so well-cared-for all its life? The answer was obvious, and it was just the key he needed: It was because the cat was cute. So, to fulfill his wish—Kieran, too, needed to be cute.

"Mnh...!" The realization seemed to hit him right in the gut and pulse outward, and then it began to physically push in at him from all sides. "Mrr~rrh..." Kieran shivered again, beginning to purr, as he felt himself starting to rapidly shrink. His face molded itself small, round and soft; his frame collapsed, his shoulders narrowing and arms and legs getting shorter and slimmer. "Mrr~rraah..!" His voice lilted upward slightly in his throat, making itself cuter as he continued to get smaller and smaller. "Aah aa~aah..!" His manhood had to go, too—so it began to tug and slip inward, tingling sharply the entire way, and drawing a white-hot blush to Kieran's cheeks.

"Mrh, rr~rrh...!" Kieran's body settled on a nicely small, adorable size, every last bit of masculinity gone from his build. "Mrr~rroo~owh.." His voice lifted itself quite adorably high before plunging itself deeper again, settling down to a fairly mature, almost-alto tone. Now the only obstruction to cuteness was the thing between his legs, and.."Aah, aa~aah..!" His girlish voice traced the upper edge of its range as he felt that too slipping away, beginning to disappear completely, until finally out came a low, womanly "Aa~aahnnn~nnh...!" as Kieran's sex changed fully and completely, for good.

"Mnh, mrr~rrRRrrh...!" The new girl was immediately assaulted by feminine pleasure, and found it very much to her liking. Her ears went low against her head, her slim tail flicking around excitedly, as she felt femininity pouring out into her, drawing her hips out wider, her thighs pushing thicker, and pulling her waist just that little bit thinner. "Mnh, ah, aa~ahnn..!" Her face thrashed back and forth against the pillow as she felt her nipples tingle and raise up, pushing themselves wider and taller, before quickly beginning to fill themselves forward and outward, each one drawing a bump of flesh up beneath it so they could became a pair of girlish breasts.

"O-oh..!" The little breasts began to grow bigger, and Kieran welcomed them, feeling like each wave of girlish pleasure poured a little more femininity into the very core of her being. " Mm~mmnh, mrr~rr~rrrh..." As they pushed out faster and faster, the new girl found herself purring deeply, delightedly, as their sensitive skin gave her ever more intense fuzzy sensations down between her legs. At the same time, she could feel her clothes changing: The shirt she had on, which had grown terribly loose from all of the shrinking, peeled itself apart near the top and grew longer sleeves as it became a button-down nightshirt—but remained quite loose on her slim, girlish form. But her boxers shrank quickly, losing their leggings so they could pull taut and snug against her hips as a pair of soft, girly panties.

"Ah, aa~aah...mrr~rah!" Finally, there was one last little push from Kieran's chest, blossoming what had once been a pair of tiny bumps out into a sizable pair of breasts, two nice big globes that squished satisfyingly into the mattress beneath her. "O-o~ooh...." The completion of her change came with one last, particularly satisfying wave of pleasure down below, which the new catgirl responded to with a low, sexy sound that was as mature as it was feminine. And then...it was done.

"Mh..mrr~rrh..." She pulled back onto her side, curling up tight and grabbing the pillow up into a close hug, gently nuzzling it. Kieran found that she was still tired—maybe even more exhausted than before, and so she waited to catch her breath from all of the excitement of the transformation, and then slowly, steadily drifted back to sleep, even as part of her wondered whether the entire change itself had also been a part of the same dream.

Yet—as Kieran awoke once more—she found herself every bit the small, cute, curvy catgirl she'd been at the end of it, still curled up under her sheets and hugging the pillow close against her soft face and big, plushy breasts. She pulled herself away from the pillow and slowly wriggled up enough to poke her head out from the covers, surveying the room around her. Was this anything like what Ella had experienced two weeks back, she wondered? Probably at least a few parts of it...but speaking of the vixen, she was nowhere to be found. The clock next to Kieran's bed reported that it was just slightly after noon.

Unfortunately for her, the newly-changed catgirl was now quite hungry. She couldn't very well keep on napping in this condition! So she peeled the covers off of herself reluctantly, set the pillow back where it belonged, and dropped off onto her feet, giving a soft, low voiced yawn as she felt a river of soft hair fall all the way down her back, her slender tail trailing itself down along her bare, soft leg to curl around an ankle.

"Auuw~wwh..."

She reached both hands up to rub her eyes, then stretched—"Mrr~rooo~ooowhh.."—feeling the sleepiness leave her in seemingly an instant as she mewed adorably. It was almost too bad there was nobody here to see this. "Awwh, man I'm hungryyy..what'm I gonna do for clothes...?"

The new catgirl felt herself quickly growing quite energetic, and what started out as a shuffle over toward Ella's dresser to see about borrowing some clothes quickly turned into a darting-over that lasted a tenth of the time she'd initially expected. She was, after all, hungry! Well—Ella's bras definitely wouldn't fit her, but there were some bottoms she could use, and maybe if she tossed her present top in favor of one of the shirts that used to fit her as a boy, her big, dangling breasts wouldn't be quite as obvious.

Only after putting on some of her roommate's gym shorts and a t-shirt did Kieran think to go get her phone and send along something to let Ella know what was going on. Even then, she couldn't really be bothered to say more than:

woke up a catgirl this morning

so

borrowing your shorts

After that, and feeling fully awake and energized by now, Kieran dashed out of her room, down the dorm hallways, and outside, all without so much as losing her breath. What might have been slightly superhuman speed and endurance really didn't mean much to her right this second, because the thing that drove her to go so fast was the simple fact that she was starving, and it was time for somebody to feed her!

---

Troy almost forgot he'd been cursed. That is—he didn't forget the event itself, but the fact that he'd been cursed didn't enter his conscious mind at all after everyone left and he put everything away from the game. He didn't think about it a single time for the rest of the night; he was too busy thinking about his plans for the next session, what he needed to do at his job, what he was going to do tomorrow. In short, he went to bed with the mindset of a man who hadn't been cursed at all.

He got a reminder when he woke up the following morning; it took the form of hair in his eyes. Of course, his first thought when he sat up out of bed and found black locks falling halfway down the sides of his face and settling across the back of his head wasn't "oh, yeah, the curse"; it was more like "oh, guess it's time for a haircut." But he realized what was happening when his morning routine—shower, breakfast, going out to get in his car—concluded with hair now falling all the way past his face and across the back of his neck to touch his shoulders. Hair definitely didn't grow that fast naturally, and so it was after he'd put the key in the ignition with a brief moment of confusion as to the length of his hair in the rearview mirror that he finally did think "oh, yeah, the curse."

Naturally, Troy had no idea what a 'canine curse' even was, or what it was supposed to do; long hair didn't seem like an obvious extension of the theme, especially not this long. Maybe growing thick hair where it wasn't supposed to be, like all over his face and chest or whatever; maybe literally messing with the human teeth known as canines. But—it was Carter's curse, and presumably she was the one who set the rules for what it did, so: hair.

The growth seemed to slow down while he was at work; he measured it to fall another half-foot or so of the way down his back by lunchtime, and it had grown about that much again by quitting time. On a whim, he decided to try defying the curse by going to get a haircut. While he was there, it didn't grow a single bit (well—not more than a person's hair would naturally grow with no magic involved anyway), but no sooner did he walk out and sit down in his car than he heard and felt a sort of dull flumph sound and his hair spilled all the way out to where it had been before and then some—an entire extra foot down his back, like the curse was expressing its annoyance at him for trying to defy it.

Well—that was that, Troy thought, shrugging. He decided to go pick up some shampoo and a better brush on his way home, figuring that if he was stuck with such long hair one way or the other, he might as well at least keep it clean and neat. He also more or less decided not to go out of his way to 'poke' the curse again, even if it started doing something else that seemed as easily reversible as hair growth—just in case doing so could actually make it worse.

---

I don't know which disclaimer I'd be more disappointed to learn was necessary: That you shouldn't expect just getting angry and yelling at someone to always get them to realize that you're really not interested and they're being kind of a jerk, or that you shouldn't repeatedly ask someone who clearly isn't interested out on dates in the hopes that they're secretly magical and will curse you. Just keep in mind that, as with all of my stories, I'm narrating the events surrounding specific fictional people, so none of their behaviors should be thought of as some kind of general guide as to how any member of any group of real people will actually act.

Vixen Society - Cycle 5

Vixen Society

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  Beginning / Before / After / Last

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Cycle 5

Kieran's life had definitely become more difficult over the past couple of weeks.

The first thing of note was, of course, that he was the "lucky" guy whose roommate had suddenly turned into a cute girl, just a little bit too late for any room assignments to change for anything other than emergency reasons. Besides that, he was responsible for keeping her secret—that is, that rather than Elliot having spontaneously awoken female one day due to some unknown magical mishap that was still under investigation, she had actually awoken, in the magical sense, into a pink-haired Kitsune, supposedly because of the advice of some weird app. They'd been roommates and more or less friends for over a year now, so he wasn't the kind of guy who could just spill something she wanted private like that, even to her parents.

Knowing that she was a Kitsune let him in on a view of her behavior that other people didn't get to see. Actually, it almost seemed like she wanted him to know what she was doing just to have an audience. She was so good at setting up weird little pranks with her newfound magic, despite how weak it was, that nobody ever seemed to realize it was her doing it. She was still taking that app's advice, too, and talking about hoping to grow a second tail soon.

Truth be told, he was a little bit happy for her—she was enjoying college more and seeing more success in her classes overall for a number of reasons. She was visibly a more confident and energetic person; she was actively seeking out ways to improve herself and have fun. And, of course, she was no longer having difficulty waking up in the morning.

But there was the rub. She no longer had any trouble at all getting up in time for classes. She didn't even need to set an alarm anymore! Kieran hadn't even realized just how much he'd depended on Elliot's constant alarms to get him up in the morning. Of course he could just set his own alarm, and after the first few days of accidentally oversleeping he did, but it didn't seem to be enough. Somehow or other, the added motivation of needing to help get someone else's lazy butt up out of bed seemed to have been a key ingredient in getting him up early. And while Ella was more than willing to try and wake him up to return the favor he'd done her throughout freshman year, her ideas for how to do so were...heavily prankster-flavored, one could say.

She would pry his eye open to an illusion of a horror movie monster standing over him in his bed poised to strike; she would give him the illusory sensation of a bucket of ice-cold water being splashed across him; she would gently guide him, in an almost-sleepwalking state, up onto his feet, to his dresser, help him change clothes and get ready for class, but in the process proceed to make certain that he put everything on backwards, inside-out, or even upside-down before pushing him out the door and locking it behind him. While these methods were certainly effective at waking him up most of the time, Kieran definitely suffered plenty from the fox-girl's pranks too in this way, maybe even worse than everyone else who didn't know it was her.

He didn't really understand himself what was happening. The second week after his roommate became a fox-girl, he started to wonder if he was going borderline narcoleptic or something. Besides what seemed to be an increasing difficulty waking himself up, he would just sit down on a bench outside after a class and konk right out, waking up half an hour later just in the nick of time to make a mad dash to the next one. To be fair, he didn't simply collapse suddenly for just no reason; he just seemed to find it easier and ever more tempting to just sit or lie down somewhere warm and doze off for a little while. Paradoxically, when he did this during the day, he always seemed to wake up automatically with at least just enough time to spare. And he found on Thursday and Friday morning that just letting himself take some naps during the day seemed to make waking up the following morning not quite so difficult, despite all of the advice he could find online about the topic.

That evening after supper, he sat in his computer chair in their room, chugging through homework he'd napped through his allotted time for earlier that week. Finding himself near the end of it, he stretched and yawned involuntarily.

"Hey, what's wrong? In need of another catnap?" Ella teased, leaning way back in her own chair to grin across at him.

"Bug off. I'll sleep when I'm done...hwaaah..." Kieran interrupted himself with another, audible yawn. "I can sleep in as much as I want tomorrow, after all."
"That's no reason not to take a breather. You work better when you're not tired, after all," she said. "I'll wake you up in a couple of hours to finish up, if you want."
"No thank you." He leaned into his computer screen and tried to get some more work done, but within a few minutes the words and images all began to blur together.

Kieran sighed—it was just no use. He resigned himself to taking a nap after all, getting up to go lie on top of his bed for a while. "Don't. Wake. Me. Up," he said, pointing at her as he sat up on the bed. "If I sleep 'till tomorrow, I'll just get it finished in the morning. Or at noon! I don't care when I get up tomorrow. Got it?"
"Got it~!" she half-sang cheerfully, grinning across at him again.

With that settled, he twisted around and lay back, letting the impending nap take him.

---

Oliver woke up hugging one of his tails, his face buried in its soft tip. He slowly moved his face across it, groaned softly a complaint about having to get up, and then sat up, rubbed his eyes, stood up and stretched. There was enough hair to get in his eyes and nearly reach down to his shoulders now; he was almost certain it hadn't been long enough a couple of days ago to be this long by now. But..looking down at himself after his stretch, he had a different concern to concentrate on.

It was unreasonable of Oliver to be disappointed that his body looked the same as it had before he went to bed last night—that hair aside. Yet he couldn't help but poke and prod at the fat with a small frown, thinking: I've made so much progress! I can't quit now... After a moment, he talked himself out of what might have become another unhealthy downward spiral: He'd made money, eaten steak and bought groceries yesterday instead of exercising, and he'd gotten a dose of 'thinning' during that second one anyway. Maybe—even though he knew that exercising never had the kind of drastic effects he was experiencing...maybe there was still some connection between his actually exercising and the rapid weight loss.

Well, he'd made a promise to himself anyway, and today he was going to make good on it. He went and took a shower, made himself a nice breakfast with some of those new groceries, and then drove out to the park, altering his clothes into some shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt when he parked. Then he got out and ran—all the way to the other side, and all the way back. He stopped in front of his car, and felt rather..surprised that he was already back.

It didn't feel like he'd done much of anything.

He wasn't tired or sore; he wasn't panting at all; what little sweat there was was just from the summer heat, not from exertion. It was a strangely...disappointing feeling, that he hadn't challenged himself enough. But—he'd said he'd exercise twice as much today anyway, so he turned and made the run again.

..Still nothing.

Oliver shook his head. This was no good. Where was that exhilarating feeling he'd gotten before? Why wasn't he out of breath? Had his health really improved that much over the past few days? Picking at the relatively small fat on his belly, he knew the answer to that one. And...of course it was great that he was so much healthier, but it wasn't enough. He needed to get better..he needed a challenge to help him grow stronger. And—several more of the same run would work, technically, but...maybe it'd be better for him to diversify his exercise a little bit?

He could afford the first payment of a gym membership. He no longer felt too ashamed to show his face at a place like that. They'd have a nicer running track than the park, in air conditioning instead of this muggy, awful weather—and treadmills, ellipticals, weights...maybe people with some sensible advice about how to more effectively exercise, given that he figured the miraculously rapid improvements couldn't possibly last forever without more normal maintenance.

Oliver drove to the gym, signed up for a month's free trial (so he could've done this without having any money yet, he chided himself), and went to try out a little of everything—all the while hiding his ears and tails, of course. He couldn't handle more than almost the lightest of weights; he nearly fell over trying a treadmill, but had better luck on an elliptical; he even attempted a few sit-ups and push-ups, but gave up on those fairly quickly as well. When he was starting to feel a little winded from all of that, he decided to round it all off with one more run.

Having a circular track he could get off of at any time instead of a back-and-forth run that had to end at his car was a boon. He could keep going, feeling the air whip his shoulder-length hair out behind him and run across the fur of his ears and tails, until he felt it come—a second wind. He didn't even realize how fast he was running now until he'd enjoyed that floating feeling for another three full laps and finally stopped, staggering his way off of the track to lean against the wall and heave in air, finally feeling the satisfying burn and exhaustion he'd been looking for.

That was when someone a little more experienced with exercise approached him to make sure he was okay, and took a moment to advise him about warming up before and cooling down after exercise. He thanked the guy, and gave the latter a try. His body wasn't immediately grateful when he did some of the recommended post-run stretches and such, but he was fairly certain this habit would help him if and when his body stopped magically curing all soreness in his sleep.

On his way back out and to his car, Oliver found that he was starving again. He wasn't after another steak necessarily—eating the same thing over and over would get repetitive and dull, after all—but his body was definitely craving some meat and calories anyway. He went for a big burger from a local place—reasonably affordable compared to the steak, but just as satisfying. The fries he had with it obviously weren't all that healthy, but..he was sure he could get into better eating habits soon. Maybe someone who worked at that gym knew something about nutrition...

Satisfied, stuffed, tired, and sore, Oliver felt moderately sleepy now. He carefully drove back to his apartment and flopped over onto a chair, leaning back and quickly dozing off.

He woke up a couple of hours later feeling refreshed—the soreness gone, and his shirt hanging loose on him once again. He stood up and stretched, feeling hair falling across his upper back as he leaned, pressing his fists against the back of his waist, and listened to a few satisfying pops as the tiny bit of stiffness from sleeping sitting up left him. When he straightened up from the stretching, he could swear everything looked a little..shorter than before? Maybe he was a little bit taller? No, he thought, he must have just straightened up into a better posture now that a ton of excess weight was no longer hunching him over.

Now that he was standing up, Oliver found that his shirt wasn't only loose around the abdomen, where he'd lost a noticeable bit more of fat once again, but it was also hanging a little awkwardly about his shoulders. Curious about this development, he altered his clothes to fit once more and found that his shoulders really did seem to be slightly narrower than he remembered. That was..odd, he thought as he carefully rotated his shoulders and rolled his head around for a moment, but it wasn't particularly worrying or anything. What did it matter, as long as he was getting less fat and more fit?

There were still some hours left to the afternoon, but Oliver didn't feel like going to the gym again—even though, physically speaking, he certainly could. It had been a while since he did anything on his days off besides sitting in his apartment, moping and watching TV, and he couldn't stand the thought of doing that right now. He really just...wanted to get out and do...something.

i uh

this is maybe kinda petty but

it's my day off, i already exercised, i don't want to stay home all day

what do i do?

You're asking us what to do because you're bored?

yeah

sorry

i guess i've just been too poor and too much of a loser to have any real hobbies for a while

sorry if it's too dumb

Not at all!

It's way better to be asking that out of boredom than hopelessness, after all.

And we certainly have some recommendations for fun.

You know how you can fool people into not seeing your tails, or you?

sure?

Well, you can do the same thing to fool people's eyes in all kinds of other ways!
Maybe a little bit of harmless pranking would be fun?
Or, if you wanted, you could probably find a way to use it to help people out...

huh

i hadn't thought of that...

Now that he was thinking about it, Oliver found the idea..surprisingly attractive. Making someone else's day more interesting, or exciting, or even helping them out...he could totally get behind that. He nodded to himself, smiling, and walked out of his apartment onto the sidewalk, looking for an opportunity.

---

Vincent wolfed (or maybe foxed?) down a fair bit of food first thing—she hadn't been kidding about suddenly feeling very hungry. However, it wasn't so fast that she didn't taste it, and she had to admit: Luca was a bad liar and a terrible prankster, but overall a pretty good cook. After taking a moment to swallow, sip some water, and breathe, she grinned across at his stunned, confused face. "Not bad. Hey, what—are you not hungry?"
"Uh..I-I mean yeah, I'm pretty hungry, but this is still..really..weird, right?"
"No duh it's weird!"
"How uh..how d'you know that app did...that?"
"'Cause I could feel it. About halfway through that transformation I started being able to sense whatever kinda power was flowing into me to cause it, and I knew the direction it was coming from—right there in your pocket," she said, pointing. "And what other reason would your phone be doing magic, besides a sketchy app I knew you had installed with a stupid long disclaimer that probably includes a warning about this specific possibility?"

She went back to eating—at a more normal pace this time, punctuated by brief glances across the table to see if her host was doing the same. The third or fourth time, he seemed to get the hint, and started actually taking in some food himself. Vincent thought: If he'd really wanted to prank her, he should've done all of that before on purpose and then done something like put an ultra-hot pepper or some soap in her food. But her sense of smell was decidedly more keen than it had been before, and there wasn't anything even slightly suspect in the food.

"S-so uh..why do you have four tails instead of just one?"
"You're asking me? Why don't you ask that app or whatever?" she gestured, but answered for herself anyway: "I'm pretty sure they mean power. I mean, besides whatever flowed into me to make me turn into a girl, I feel like something..wake up that might've been there all along, waiting for the right prompt. Which was apparently watching you acting like a total putz."
"Uh, y'know, maybe it was just waiting for you to laugh?" Luca suggested as an alternative. "And you know what? Even if uh, I wound up really only pranking myself, even if I look like a giant, dumb idiot-fool, I don't mind! J-just making you smile and laugh was all I was after in the first place!"

"Ohh, yeah? Well, was it worth it?" she asked, giving him a vicious, fang-exposing grin.

Luca's cheeks steadily turned red, and then he responded "..Y-yes." Then he turned his head down and dug into his food. Vincent couldn't decide whether she'd been trying to elicit a reaction like this, but she knew immediately that she liked it more than she should.

---

Kieran dreamed of sleeping.

It was kind of an absurd thing, the kind of thing that didn't make any real-world, logical sense. The dream was the kind where he could both experience something, and see it in third person, at the same time. And what he saw was a paradisaical life. He didn't have to worry about classes, schedules, or obligations. He didn't have to go anywhere or do anything that he didn't just plain want to. Instead, he would lie down to sleep when he wanted, wake up the instant he wanted to, and go exploring or running around wherever and whenever he liked. Someone else would take care of him, make sure he had food and was healthy—all those sorts of things. All he had to do was life his best life—and the whole entire world just let him do it.

It wasn't obvious at the outset, but gradually became clear, that Kieran wasn't human in this dream. He wasn't even vaguely humanoid. Instead, he was a cat. A fluffy brown feline was the one living its best life, not him—and yet, somehow, it also was him. The dream felt less like a dream over time, once this realization set in, and yet it became instead something more like a memory. It couldn't have been his memory, of course, logically speaking—but dreams didn't have much of a place for logic anyway. And—whether he was a cat or a human, whether this experience was really his or someone else's—Kieran found himself floating through this wonderful life, equal parts satisfied by his limited, single-dream experience of it and envious, wishing increasingly desperately to just capture some small fragment of that kind of life for his real one. He didn't really want to spend his whole life fiddling around, eating, sleeping, and doing nothing else—but he did want to preserve for his real life at least some fragment of the sense of utter relaxation and perfect rest that such an experience produced.

Like all dreams, Kieran's dream eventually came to a close. He woke up in the dream—a cat—and he woke up again a human, still in the dream. Finally, he woke up for real, in the real world—slowly but surely. Yet, as he did, he had the curiousest sense that maybe—just perhaps—his wish was going to be granted...

---

It didn't take Oliver very long to find ways to use his illusions to mess with people. He gave a guy driving with a phone in front of his face a scare by making it look like someone was standing right in front of his car when he started to move at a stop sign—not the full appearance of a person, just a sort of visual suggestion that lasted long enough for him to slam on the brakes, look around in terror, and (hopefully) reevaluate his habits. He confused a jogger by putting a small image just in front of her eyes of what was behind her, causing her to turn around—only to drop the illusion, making her stop and look both ways in confusion, shaking her head before going on her way. He made an illusion of a cute bunny rabbit for a lost little girl to follow all the way back to her worried mother. All of this and more he did while invisible, with varying bits of chuckling and grinning as he watched the results.

When he thought he might've had enough fun for now, and was starting to get hungry for supper, he started to walk back—visible again, though still hiding the vulpine traits—and that was when he had his most interesting encounter. He slowed to a halt as he saw him: An old man, thin and wiry with badly graying hair, sitting by the sidewalk with his back leaning on an adjacent building. His disheveled clothes and unshaven face made it pretty clear he was even worse off than Oliver ever had been, and so the younger man couldn't help but approach to greet him, turning to face him and slowly kneeling down to his eye level as they spoke.

"Hey..what's your name, sir?"
"Eh?" He started—a tattered, wide-brimmed hat having hidden the fact that his eyes had been closed—slowly sat up, and regarded the young stranger. "Angus, young'un. Not too many your age feel like giving me the time of day. And you?" He put up a hand, and Oliver shook it.

"Oliver, sir." It was true, the guy stank a little bit, and this was exacerbated by Oliver's stronger-than-human sense of smell, but he didn't care. It wasn't Angus's fault, after all. "I'm, just coming out of some tough times, but I guess you're in an even rougher patch than I was."
"I'll say!" Angus responded with some vigorous, righteous anger. "Nobody'll give me a job! I'm a veteran, for pete's sake! I know how to put in a good day's work. But all anyone lets me do, is sit here an' panhandle. Sleep in the dang homeless shelter! I got enough money, but they still won't lemme in to eat!"

"Oh?" Oliver let himself down to sit in front of the old man, tilting his head slightly. "Which restaurant's been turning you away?"

"You see that place, just across the street there?" Angus pointed, and the young man turned to look—it was an upscale restaurant, of course. "All it says outside is 'no shirt, no shoes', but I got a shirt and shoes, and they still say I 'ain't dressed appropriately'. Pah! So much for appreciating vets! So much for respectin' your elders!"

"Hmm." Oliver got a kind of grin he wasn't quite used to yet—feeling the anticipation of a particularly fun prank. "Tell you what, how about I introduce you to them? I bet they'll let you in, then."
"Eh? What, you some kinda big shot now, Oliver?"
"No, no—I just think I can persuade them to let you in anyway," he said, hopping back up onto his feet and offering Angus a hand. "Worth a shot, right?"
"Hmmmh...alright, sure." He took Oliver's hand and got up, going with him across the street to the restaurant.

As they approached the front windows, the Kitsune worked his magic—giving everyone but Angus an illusory view of him as a refined old gentleman: Well-dressed, clean, well-trimmed. He looked like himself to himself, but to everyone else like the kind of person who could very well own a restaurant like that one. It was also easy enough to magically hide Angus's unpleasant scent, so that that wouldn't give him away, either. While he was at it, Oliver jazzed up his own outfit a little bit for real—just to really sell things. He gestured for Angus to lead the way, and followed him inside.

"My friend and I would like a table for two, please," he said.

The host nodded. "Right this way, sirs." After he turned around to lead them inside, Angus looked back and forth between Oliver and the inside of the restaurant in amazement.

"Well I'll be."
"What'd I tell you?" he said, beaming.

"Huh. Heyy, since you got us in the door, why don't I treat ya, young'un?" Angus offered. "I wasn't kidding about having money, you know—the gov'ment gives me some payout for my time as a soldier, and I don't got a house note or nothin' to spend it on."
"I'll take you up on that, sure," Oliver nodded. Even if the old man was lying through his teeth and was going to bail on him as soon as he was satisfied, the Kistune didn't care—he could afford to foot the bill too, and for this opportunity to fool so many people, it would be worth it.

Vixen Society - Cycle 4

Vixen Society

---

  Beginning / Before / After / Last

---

Cycle 4

In the shower, Carter found good news and bad news.

The good news was that she was, in every possible way, a healthy, gorgeous, curvy young woman now, that having long hair and fox ears and a tail all felt rather nice somehow, and nothing about her body's sudden new appearance felt uncomfortable in the slightest. The bad news was that so much hair and fur tore through the bit of shampoo she had in a single wash—at least, getting all of the chlorine out of it did—and it was functionally impossible to towel all of that off too, which meant she was going to need a hairdryer.

She did her best for the moment with wrapping an extra body towel around her big fluffy yellow tail and a keeping a hand towel around her neck to catch some of the dripping water from her hair and ears. Since none of her clothes really fit properly, she just put on a pair of boxers that her wide hips could hold up and a t-shirt that now fell loosely enough around her narrow shoulders to expose some neckline and long enough to fall halfway down her thighs when standing up. Then she got her phone.

Ok look

What did you do to me, and how.

The answer came back: We gave you some advice. I guess you followed it?

You know what I mean! she shot back. I did something that definitely shouldn't have had any physical effect on me besides some wrinkly skin and wet hair, and now I'm like three feet shorter with boobs and fur.

Ooh, it worked then? You awoke?

She raised an eyebrow, and the ear on the same side went up with it. I've been awake since this morning.

Three different responses came to this, starting with the person who'd been answering her so far: No, silly, magic awakening!

You're a full-fledged Kitsune now!

Congratulations!

Carter was more conflicted than she logically felt she should be about this. That is—logically, she thought they had to be making fun of her, 'congratulating' her for falling for some kind of weird magical trolling. But emotionally, the congratulations felt genuine, and made her feel a little proud of her new...foxiness? Something like that.

She settled on: Ok but how?

You're not bad at trolling people, right? That's a part of your natural potential to be a trickster.

But in your case, that potential needed a little help to be realized.

Just a tiny bit of magic we channeled through the app, tuned to 'help' you in a way that would make you a woman at the same time.

But it would never work without your cooperation!

Her ears drooped slightly—she had been pranked, and fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. All that 'junk code' she'd seen before...had to be some kind of magical ritual stuff, which no 'mundane' programmer would ever recognize! But at the same time, it was difficult to really feel shame or anger about it. In fact, as the realization ran through her mind, the new vixen couldn't help but grin wide, and then giggle. They'd really gotten her, after all! And, the result was...wonderful! In a way, it was kind of a win for both sides.

She took a moment to take a few deep breaths and regain her composure again before replying: Well, okay, I guess you got me pretty good.

But you're still running an advice app, right?

So. How exactly am I supposed to deal with this new body you saddled me with?

There was a brief pause, and then one of them sent back: so-youre-a-girl-now.com. Carter was sure this was sarcasm, but she tried the link anyway, and found an honest-to-goodness, government-(or some kind of official organization anyway)-funded website, outlining how someone who'd been male up until a recent transformation, and who didn't want to—or couldn't—find a way to recover her original form, should deal with being female. Some of it was basic health information she already knew (though perhaps in more detail than she'd had reason to study before now), some of it was general life advice like 'wear a bra, stupid', and some of it was obviously jokes to help lighten the mood.

The advice the Vixen Society provided her after that link was: As for the fox part, we can certainly help you out with that!
We're rather experts on being Kitsune, after all.

Kitsune...an entire race of pranksters and trolls. Carter shook her head—no wonder they'd been able to fool her. But now—now she was one of them, too. Maybe this was going to be fun, after all...

---

Vincent went up some stairs and knocked on the door the the apartment. "Uh, comiiiing!" Luca's voice from inside let him know he was at the right place, and he ran to open the door after a moment, looking slightly winded but grinning a huge grin all the same. "Hey, I'm glad you could make it. Please, come on in!"
"Sure.."

Despite his declaration of having cleaned things up, Luca's living room was a pretty big mess: A large section of it was taken by some piled-up canvases and paints and an easel lying on its side, and a bunch of loose paper and several different open sketchbooks were scattered around the seating area. It actually did smell like some decent food was cooking, though.

"It's almooost ready, just uh—take a seat for a minute, 'kay?" his host said, hurrying to shove some of the paper over to one side of a couch and then waving to present the spot to him, before running to the kitchen. As he went to inspect the offered seat, Vincent noticed Luca going down a hall and to one side to get to the kitchen, even though a door in the living room—which was presently closed—obviously led to the same place. He leaned forward and poked at the cushion briefly before shrugging, concluding that the seat wasn't the trap here before sitting down.

After some more noise—including shuffling some pots and pans around and getting some plates out—Luca came back through the same roundabout path to reach the living room again. "Okay! It's all done. Uh, please—right this way." He indicated the closed door. Vincent stood up and headed that way, his host eagerly running alongside him. He came very close to the door before abruptly stopping, reaching a hand forward to push it open; Luca's momentum next to him had him barrel straight through as the sound of some paper tearing came from above the door on the inside.

A torrent of colorful confetti rained down onto Luca, apparently having been held by whatever opening the door had just torn open. "Bluaah!" He waved his hands around in front of his face, temporarily blinded by the paper, and stumbled forward several steps. A short ways into the room was a small piece of wood sitting angled up toward their direction, a box glued to the part currently tilted down to sit on the floor, and when Luca stumbled up to it his foot landed on the high side, flipping it across some makeshift fulcrum beneath it and making it catapult the contents of the box—a few obviously fake rubber spiders—directly at his face.

He paused, shaking his head while grabbing one of them off, and when he opened his eyes there was the fake spider on his hand. "YaaaAAAAHH!" Even though he must have put it there, and had to know it was fake, Luca's immediate, knee-jerk reaction was to throw it at the far wall and run away in another direction while yelling in a panic, approaching the kitchen sink as a result. The rug in front of that sink was suspiciously bumpy-looking, and sure enough, when Luca ran up and put his full weight on it a bunch of large bubble-wrap hidden underneath loudly popped, making him yell again—"AAH!"—and jump a long distance backwards.

Vincent strode briskly over behind Luca as he landed and stumbled backwards a few steps, flailing his arms around—obviously about to lose his balance entirely and fall over. He caught him under the arms from behind mid-fall, pushing him gently back onto his feet before taking a small step back.

---

Once again, Oliver woke up in the morning to find all traces of soreness and exhaustion miraculously gone, and his body noticeably thinner. Not only was his shirt looser than before around his waist, but his pants had to be reeled in by a belt to keep them from falling off for the first time in years. Looking at himself in the mirror, he got the stupidest grin, wagging both of his big, fluffy tails behind him. Not even the fact that his hair was beginning to obscure his eyes—maybe in need of a haircut soon—really bothered him right now.

He went to work like usual, continuing to hide his unusual new features—but not the improvements to his body. A couple of people took note, asking if he'd been working out, and he just sort of mumbled that he'd been trying to exercise more and eat better lately..even though the second was only true if 'better' meant 'more'. It didn't take as much out of him as it usually did; he left for his car that afternoon feeling ready to negotiate a price with a pawn shop. So that was what he did: Pick up the transmogrified jewelry (which had not turned back into garbage in his absence, thankfully), take them up to a pawn shop, and sell them. He was able to hide his apprehension as he fed them the story about his mother—partially thanks to channeling the actual emotion from his parents' having actually passed away—and even his excitement at the enormous quantity of money they offered him for the whole collection.

Maybe the pawn shop were severely lowballing him as far as the actual value of what he was selling, but it hadn't actually cost him anywhere near the thousands of dollars he was getting to obtain the 'raw materials', and even the somewhat exhausting work of transforming it was definitely worth far less than what he gained—so he was getting the better deal by far. Heart pounding, he went to the bank to deposit almost all of it, thinking to go to the grocery store with the rest.

As Oliver came and sat down in his car in the bank parking lot, he felt that sensation again: A tail sprouting, growing, and spreading out behind him. This was his third one now, a celebration of—perhaps—successfully fooling the pawn shop into paying him thousands of dollars for what used to be garbage. He wasn't sure if it counted as 'fooling' them when what it was now was really jewelry, but it didn't matter. He'd made his money, and now he had a brand new tail to commemorate it.

His stomach growled; the whole ordeal had taken a while, and even in the absence of real physical exercise, he was hungry. He began the drive to the store, but stopped at one particular traffic light right next to a restaurant, and he could smell it through the car doors.

Steak...

Oliver's mouth was salivating. His sense of smell was much sharper than it used to be (probably because he was part fox or something) and that was proving to be a weakness right now. The smell of delicious food, particularly something he'd promised himself he'd have if he ever had enough money for it, was just too much to take. But..he'd just impulse-buy all kinds of useless things at the grocery store if he was this hungry, right? And, he could definitely afford it right now...

He gave in to the temptation, turning in to park at the restaurant and walking in to eat. And, it was one of the most delicious meals he'd ever had. Not only was the food good in itself, but it felt like a prize he'd earned, a reward above and beyond the third tail for the trick he'd managed to pull off today, and that made it all the sweeter.

As he ate, he occasionally felt a slight gurgling from his happy stomach, and a couple of times a brief tensing from his abdomen. It was a slightly odd feeling, but he didn't feel unwell or anything, and besides—the food was too good to pay attention to much of anything else. It was only after he'd concluded a meal feeling completely full and satisfied for the first time in forever, paid, and went to stand up that he realized: His belly had shrunk, and his pants were threatening to fall off again.

Oliver couldn't believe it. He made his way out of the building and stopped next to his car to prod and squeeze at his stomach. The fat he'd come in with had reduced at least as much as during last night's sleep, and what he was left with now...well, anyone would still call him fat, but it was a far cry from the enormous obesity he'd had just a couple of days ago. Maybe...he could even stand to be seen exercising, with his body looking like this. It had loosened his clothes enough to make them a bit ill-fitting, but..well, he had an easy enough solution to that: He more or less just willed his clothes to fit him again, and they shrank just as much as necessary to hold on properly without being too tight.

"Heheeh.." This was so weird..but it was wonderful at the same time. He grinned, getting into his car and heading on to the store. It was getting a little bit late for an afternoon run, but he had tomorrow off from work, so...he'd just do twice as much then.

hey uh

i feel a little bad about today

Did you have trouble selling the jewelry?

huh?

oh, no, not at all.

it was really easy, i got plenty of money from it too!

and another tail came out right after that.

That's amazing! Three tails in as many days.

Congratulations!

What's there to feel bad about, then?

well

i didn't exercise

and i spent some of the new money on steak

maybe wasted is more like it.

Hey, it's okay to treat yourself sometimes, as long as it's not a habit!
Yeah. And you don't have to run every single day to stay healthy.

Just do a little more tomorrow, and you'll be fine.

thanks...

i was telling myself something similar

but it feels reassuring to hear it from someone else

you're all the best

Aw, thanks!

---

Carter found herself much more popular with her circle of friends—and maybe not quite in a way she liked. All of them knew perfectly well that she was the same person, but still couldn't get over seeing her as the blonde bombshell she'd become, too. Even going for the most tomboyish outfits she could manage—shorts or jeans with her old loose-fitting, boy-cut t-shirts that trailed their hems down to at least her waist—didn't dissuade them, and it quickly became obvious it just made her even hotter in their eyes.

Nearly every guy she knew approached her at least once to ask if she'd go out on a date with him. She couldn't blame them for this, not really—she knew how hot she was, knew what it was like to be a nerd, and could easily imagine herself doing the same with the roles reversed—but she didn't really feel much interest toward any of them, and just said she wasn't looking for a date with anyone right now. Generally one or two rejections was all it took, with the end result being only that guy only occasionally staring at her and quickly looking away when caught—but there was one particularly annoying exception.

Troy was the thin-and-wispy, glasses-wearing kind of nerd; he did some sort of engineering work. He was in her regular D&D group, and her transformation had come in the middle of his rotation as DM and host. Going by how he decorated his place and the characters he tended to play, he had a certain fascination with wolf-people, dog-people, coyote-people—any kind of canine-person, really..which was a category she unfortunately now fell under. Every time she came to his place with everyone else to play, he'd open up with some mild flirting and then eventually try to ask her out, and she'd have to shut him down. He didn't keep it up after she said no, but he still looked longingly her way now and then during their sessions, and come the next one he'd start all over again.

After the fifth time this happened, in the middle of her third week as a fox-girl, she vented to the society about it. Their response didn't please her, either.

So, what, some guy won't leave you alone? You're a kitsune, just trick him!

It's been like two weeks now, right? Aren't you used to teasing guys by now?

No! she shot back. Pretend flirting is such a lame way to troll people, and I don't feel like screwing up my friendships with it either. In actuality, she'd found herself having a little bit of fun messing with people—friends, coworkers, or whoever—in ways that didn't rely on her physical attractiveness.

I suppose it is a little low-effort...

Hey, if you really want to leave him alone, get him a taste of his own medicine!

"Uh-huh.." How, exactly, am I supposed to do that? Carter knew full well that Kitsune were supposed to have magical powers, but she hadn't really felt much of a spark of that so far. It was probably because she only had one tail, which was the lowest tier of power possible.

Fortunately, the Society had an answer for her.

---

"Who—wha—!?" Luca looked back and forth quickly in confusion several times before finally turning entirely around toward Vincent, who was looking down at him with his arms crossed. "...Oh. Aww man..." He frowned disappointedly. "That, I didn't do any of that right at all!"

"So, what, that was for me?"

"Uh..yeah. I thought it might help make you laugh! But I just—kinda, walked into my own trap instead. Sorry...uh, thanks for catching me, though..."

Vincent was quiet as Luca spoke, and then as he trailed off. It was a long enough silence to probably worry Luca that he'd made him actually angry, except for the way it terminated. During this silence, his mind processed through the entire event he'd just experienced: His..friendly acquaintance, at least, had thought to try and cheer him up by inviting him to his place for dinner and setting up a few basically harmless pranks. But he'd just let himself be guided straight into them, and even though he knew they were coming, stumbled straight into every single one in a single conga-line of self-pranking. Plus, there was the mental image of him flailing around and freaking out and jumping back from the loud noise. He was acting like a confused kitten in his own kitchen!

"Snrk." He felt himself make kind of a snort as he inhaled, the entire thing finally getting to him. "Pffheheh..he-heheh...haAAahahahah..!" And then Vincent was laughing. He just couldn't suppress it any longer, and before he knew it he was laughing so hard he was almost doubling over from it and rendered temporarily unable to properly speak. "You jh-huhst..heheh—you couldn't even—haaAAhahah..!"

As the fit of laughter continued, Vincent had the strange impression that it was starting to push its way out of his ears—as nonsensical as that was. And yet, as he continued to laugh uncontrollably, he felt first his right ear, then his left, just suddenly pop out, growing, stretching and expanding bigger, wider and taller while some sort of hairs rapidly grew all across it. In under a second, the time of a single "HAAaah!" from his mouth, each ear went from human to—some kind of big, fluffy, animal-like shape.
"Hhhh...!" He sort of wheezed air in and out at this point, tears coming out of his closed eyes, and when he inhaled hard again he felt the laughter coming in and rushing down his spine somehow, racing out from the base of it as a tail which rapidly spread out long, thick and fluffy behind him. And no sooner had Vincent more or less caught his breath than the mental image of Luca freaking out over the fake spider sent him into a proper giggling fit.

"Hee~eheheheh..!" His voice lilted strangely higher and higher in pitch as he giggled, and he could feel a slight pressure all across his body shrinking him shorter and slimmer, making his clothes fall increasingly loose across a diminishing frame, narrowing shoulders, slimming and shortening arms and legs. "Heeheeehee, heheheh...!" A wave of tingling all over his skin only seemed to tickle him, making the increasingly girlish giggling continue. His suddenly-huge ears were flicking around excitedly, the new tail swishing back and forth through the air behind him; the sensation of air running across all of that fluffy fur was strangely pleasant, almost addictive.

"Aah..haa~aAAAahaahaahh..!" Giggling progressed into more actual laughter, now in a high, cute but not immature soprano tone, and at the peak of it Vincent felt another tail spreading itself out next to the first one. At the same time, his face was warming with a blush because...because of a tingling, slipping sensation appearing and quickly getting stronger down between his legs. His hair spilled out a little longer, trailing across his shoulders and falling down the back of his neck and torso, the soft hairs tickling him and making him laugh even more.

"Ha~aahahah..ooh ooh oOOO~OOoh..!" Not long at all after it had begun, the strange feeling downstairs had given way to three sharp tugs, the last one taking away Vincent's manhood entirely, melting and shifting it all at once into girly parts instead. Her blush got much deeper as a sudden burst of deeply pleasant, fuzzy sensations hit her down there, letting her know it was actually going to be pretty sweet being a girl.

"Mmnnh...hh-heheheh..!" She couldn't resist more joyful giggling in response, as her hips and thighs began to gently press themselves out thicker and wider. Her suddenly very loose clothes began to shuffle and flutter around her body, a pair of panties pulling themselves tight between her legs while a skirt spread out around her hips. "HahahaAA~AAahahahah..!" Another burst of volume came with yet a third tail making its way out from the new girl's back, swishing and twisting around in the air with the other two. She could feel a sensation of pure power flowing into her from all three of them, seemingly coming along with some knowledge and ideas of how she could use it, too.

By now, her shirt and jacket were shrinking close against her slim, narrow shoulders, pulling increasingly close about her waist—but around her chest, everything was still hanging expectantly loose. "Hhhh~hh..!" she wheezed again, then gasped adorably high as a tingling rushed across her chest.

"H-heheh...haa~Aaahhahah..!" Vincent could feel her nipples gently pressing forward, drawing soft, sensitive skin across some unfamiliar cloth—a bra, naturally. "Heheheh...!" Her new girly parts were giving her a treat of a feeling once again, keeping the giggling and laughter irresistible as she felt the two little bumps steadily spread out bigger and bigger. "Aah, aa~aah, haa~aaAAaahahahaa~aahahah..!" A fourth tail made its way out from her back as her breasts gave one final push, turning into a nice, big pair of globes that filled the bra and the top over it—her jacket slipping itself off of her shoulders from all of her excited shifting and squirming around.

"Hhh..hh.." The fit of giggles finally faded off just as Vincent's transformation completed, and she slowly opened her eyes to find herself facing a very confused Luca—now exactly the same height as she was. "Hh—heheh...Luca, you dork!" she said, grinning wide and holding up one of her hands.

"Did you not delete that stupid app the other day?!" she demanded pulling the jacket back up over her shoulders. "This is probably some magic junk they put into it."
"Uhh...a-about that..."
"Ooh, you not only didn't delete it, this whole thing was their suggestion, wasn't it?" She took another few steps closer to him, still grinning wide enough to expose some sharp fangs now occupying her mouth. Luca was blushing from her increasing proximity, and—come to think of it—so was she.

"Y-yeah.."

"Well—whatever!" She reached over and ruffled his hair to tease him, enjoying his visibly confused reaction to the expression. "You still really cooked us dinner, so let's eat it first, before it gets cold! Being turned into a short fox-girl or whatever made me famished!"

"Uhh..o-okay..?"