A Real Fox
by Lobo De la Sombra
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© Copyright 2017 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/F; shop; bully; mask; transform; F/m; M2f; furry; fox; naked; nipple; tease; mast; denial; revenge; enslave; sold; cons/nc; X
Ghoul-gle jpn
A Real Fox Lobo De la Sombra M/F; shop; bully; mask; transform; F/m; M2f; furry; fox; naked; nipple; tease; mast; denial; revenge; enslave; sold; cons/nc; X

"Outta my way, punk" Grinning, Bert shouldered past the slender youth waiting at the counter. Looking across the counter, he saw a young, generously endowed woman dressed in skin-tight black leather. Staring at her, his grin widened.

"Hey, sexy," he said, "how 'bout giving me some service?"

The woman frowned. "I believe there is someone ahead of you," she pointed out.

Bert scowled at the young man beside him. "Him? He was just leaving, weren't you?" Shrinking back from the scowl, the young man turned without a word and left the store. As the door closed, Bert turned back toward the woman behind the counter.

"See? Now how 'bout that service, sweetie?"

The woman's frown deepened. "What is it you're looking for?"

"A trip to the back room with you would be nice," Bert replied, openly running his eyes over the woman's slender yet shapely form. "Failing that, I need a mask for the Halloween ball tonight. I was told you sold some really good ones."

"The best," the woman replied, smiling. "Our masks are specially made. So realistic, nobody will ever know the difference."

"Whatever. Just show me what you have." Bert grinned. "Or show me some masks."

"I'd be happy to," came the reply. "In fact, we just got one in that would be perfect for you. One moment."

As he waited, Bert turned and glanced around the small shop. "No wonder I've never been here," he muttered, gazing at the rows of shelves lined with makeup of seemingly all kinds, along with just about every tool that could be used to apply it. "This place must cater to queers and hookers."

"Actually, no." Bert turned to see the woman emerge from the back room with a box in her hand. "This shop caters, as you say, to actors. We carry the best and largest assortment of theatrical makeup in town."

"If you say so," Bert replied. He nodded toward the box in the woman's hand. "Is that the mask?"

"It is, indeed." Smiling, the woman opened the box and pulled out a smallish, furry mask.

"What's it supposed to be?"

"A fox," was the reply.

"I don't know about that," Bert said doubtfully. "I think a lion would be better for me, or a tiger."

"Lions, and tigers," the woman told him, "use brute strength to take down their prey. A fox, on the other hand, uses guile, cleverness. A fox can even trick the prey into delivering themselves."

"Clever," Bert mused, "I think I like that. Ok, how much?"

"As I said, the woman told him, "our masks are specially made. Which means they're normally quite expensive. In this case, however, I'd be willing to make a deal. You see, this model is brand new, which means nobody has seen it yet. As you might expect, word of mouth is our best advertisement, which means the more people who see a new product, the more potential business for us. So, if you would be willing to wear this mask to the ball, and mention where it came from, I would be willing to rent it to you for, say, ten dollars. Fully refundable, of course, provided the mask is returned unharmed."

"So it's free?" Bert grinned. "How can I argue with that?"

The woman smiled. "I knew a clever young man like you would see the wisdom of such an arrangement. Now, what say we try it on, see how it fits?"

Nodding, Bert watched as the woman came out from behind the counter. "Now," she said, raising the mask, "Hold still so I can get it properly set."

"No straps?"

The woman smiled. "None needed," she replied. "You see, this mask is lined with a special adhesive. Perfectly safe, I assure you, and it makes the mask look like it's actually part of your face. Now, hold still."

Impatiently, Bert stood silently as the woman placed the mask against his face. Once she was satisfied with the placement, she worked her hands around the edges, gently pressing the mask against Bert's skin. Once satisfied, she led him to stand in front of a mirror on the shop's back wall.

"Amazing!" As the woman had said, the mask looked as if it were a part of him. He couldn't tell where the mask ended and he started. "I'll take it," he said. He reached to remove the mask, only to realize that, for some reason, his hands remained at his sides.

"Don't worry," the woman told him, "it's a temporary paralytic, part of the adhesive on the mask and absorbed through the skin. For the next part, it's really better if you don't move."

"Next part?" Bert asked, except no sound emerged from lips that refused to part. Silenced as well as immobile, he could only watch the woman's reflection in the mirror as she stepped to the counter and picked up a pair of scissors.

"I usually don't enjoy this part too much," she said, moving to stand behind him, "but, for you, I think I can make an exception."

With the woman standing behind him, Bert couldn't see what she was doing. He could, however, feel his shirt loosening as she quickly cut it open up the back before peeling it down his dangling arms. Reaching around him, she unfastened and removed his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then carefully used the scissors to cut down the outside of both legs, letting the ruined garment fall to the floor.

"Now why," she asked, stepping around to face him, "am I not surprised that you prefer to go commando?" Glancing down, she whistled softly. "Now this," she said, reaching down and cupping him softly, "I will most definitely hate to lose." Looking up, she winked. "Been thinking dirty thoughts about me, have you?"

Unable to reply, Bert could only stand as she cut his shoes, then his socks, from his feet. "Believe me," she said as she rose, "you'll appreciate that by the time it's finished. And it's already started."

Bert stared into the mirror. At first, the edges of the mask had reached just past the ends of his eyes. Now, somehow, those same edges were nearly at his ears. Ears, he saw, that seemed, impossibly, to have moved higher than they had been. As he stared, his ears slowly climbed toward the top of his head, at the same time growing longer, pointed. Soon, they peeked out from hair that had somehow changed from its original dark brown to a rusty red that perfectly matched the fur on the mask. Staring, Bert could see his hair growing longer, feel it flowing down his back until the tips brushed the cheeks of his ass.

At the same time, the mask seemed to be stretching downwards. As it did, his nose began to lengthen, flattening slightly on the top. His nostrils moved to the end of what had clearly become a snout. His jaw extended as well, while his chin receded. Soft, red fur moved slowly down his cheeks.

Bert could only stare in shock. With his pointed ears and nearly as pointed snout, not to mention slanting eyes, his face had become that of a fox. Could it get any worse? It could. Slowly, the fur moved down his throat onto shoulders which had become slender, graceful. His arms, to, became slender as the fur moved down to cover them. His hands changed to something resembling paws, though his fingers remained.

Bert could see the fur moving down his sides as his waist began to pinch in. Strangely, the fur seemed to be avoiding his chest and stomach area. Slowly, his nipples began to push outward until they rested on the tips of firm, medium sized breasts. Seconds later, the skin below his new breasts began to swell, forming a second set, then a third, and finally, a fourth. Stunned, he could only stare at his eight beautifully formed breasts.

"Oh, my," he heard the woman say, her tone mischievous, "I seem to have gotten the female fox mask by mistake. No matter, you seem to be adapting to it nicely." Reaching down, she stroked him again. "Time to say goodbye, I'm afraid."

By now, the fur had reached his hips, which swelled outward, giving him a classic hourglass shape. His thighs became softer, more rounded as the fur covered them. At the same time, his cock began, impossibly, to shrink before his horrified eyes, until only a soft, undeniably feminine mound remained, barely visible through the fur that surrounded it.

"Such a shame," the woman said, watching with him as his legs became slender, shapely columns, his body rising as his feet lengthened and arched, so that he stood on the balls, "I think I might have enjoyed that, at least once."

Slowly, Bert began to feel motion return to his body. Still staring at his reflection, he began to turn toward the woman, only to freeze at the sight of a tail dangling from just above a small, beautifully formed ass.

I don't believe it, he thought dazedly, I look like a real live version of one of those anime foxes. Well, his mind amended, except for the breasts. But how did it happen? And how can I change back to me?

Facing the woman, he demanded answers, only to hear what sounded like a series of yips and barks emerge from his elongated snout.

"I'm sorry, my dear," the woman said, smiling, "but I can't understand a word you're saying. You see, your mouth can no longer shape human words, and I'm afraid I don't understand fox."

Realizing he couldn't communicate verbally, Bert decided to try a more direct approach. Raising his hands, he stepped toward the woman, a low growl slipping from between clenched teeth. Seemingly undaunted, the woman reached up and lightly pinched one of his nipples. Immediately, he froze, his growl changing to a soft moan as a wave of pleasure engulfed his body.

"Interesting." Still holding one nipple between her fingers, the woman reached up with her other hand and pinched another. A second, slightly louder moan was the result. "Are they all that sensitive?" One after another, she pinched each of his nipples. As she did, his moans became louder and more urgent. "I think you're enjoying this," she told him, one hand dropping between his thighs. As her fingers stroked, then penetrated his mound, his knees nearly buckled from the force of the pleasure pouring through him. When she removed her hand, he wasn't sure if the moan that emerged were relief or disappointment.

Turning away, the woman moved to the counter. "By the way," she said, glancing over her shoulder, "I think it only fair to tell you how you wound up here today. It was Lisa who told you about this place, wasn't it?"

Bert's eyes widened as he nodded slowly. Seeing this, the woman grinned.

"Lisa," she said, "the girl you had sex with, then posted nude pictures online without her consent? Who works flipping burgers now because those pictures got her fired from her very nice job? Did you really think she would forgive you for that? Are you really that dense?"

Reaching the counter, the woman rested her hand on the phone. "Actually," she went on, "Lisa is a very good friend of mine. Of course, all she really knows about me is that I run this shop. She has no idea about my little side project. Anyway, she told me what you did to her, and I offered to deal with you. She didn't ask how, just that she never have to see you again. And just so you know, that whole threatening gesture thing? Won't work, you see. You, my dear, have been declawed. My clients insist on that kind of thing."

Puzzled, Bert barked a question. Almost as if she understood, the woman nodded.

"No harm telling you," she said. "You see, I work for a group of very discerning clients. They are very rich, very powerful, and they have a very different idea of entertainment. They provide me with the masks, and I provide them with a variety of furry companions to warm their beds. Fortunately for me, there's no shortage of egotistical assholes who need to be put in their places. And your place, my dear, will be as the newest addition to my clients' menagerie of sexual slaves."

Shaking his head, Bert turned to run. As he fumbled at the door, the woman stepped forward and slipped a hand between his thighs. As her fingers brushed his mound, Bert froze, moaning softly.

"Much better," the woman said, turning him away from the door. Lightly, she pinched one nipple, drawing him with her as she moved once more to the phone.

"I think you'll do nicely," she said, cradling the phone between shoulder and head and dialing with her free hand. "Once you get used to your new body's sexual needs, that is."

Shaking his head again, Bert tried to pull away, only to freeze in place as she tightened her pinch slightly, sending even stronger waves of pleasure rushing through him. She smiled, then turned her attention to the phone.

"Yes, hello? I have another one for you. A bit overly sensitive, this one, so she'll need some training to teach her how to control her body's responses to sexual stimuli. Yes, our standard arrangement will be most satisfactory. Oh, yes, I think you'll be most pleased." The woman tugged on Bert's nipple, smiling at the moan that emerged. "I think this one is perhaps my best yet. You could say she's a real fox."



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