WARNING: Henrietta and the Foxy, Filthy SCAT Binge of Awfulness!
Disclaimer:
First of all, points for having the guts or curiosity to click to this story--you're insane. I'm honestly going to laugh my head off if this gets more hits than my normal stuff.
Regular viewers and newcomers alike, it is my dire apology for the dropping of defecation into my stories. I find that every now and again, something falls loose in my brain, and I want to write about it in tandem with regressive transformation stories like 'Closing the Skin'. It's a nice thought to know that animals don't have to hold it, and so I often use crapping as a mark of regression into that carefree state of mind.
Lately, I've gotten into a tendency for overuse of this trope, and finally decided that the only good way to get it out and flushed would be to drop it all in one foul load. So, that being said, if you came here curious or by accident, and don't want to read about a pretty girl turning into a smelly fox and getting it on with her suave master until he stinks the place up with her--there's a cookie or something in it for you later for reading this. Otherwise, enjoy yourself, if you genuinely like this story.
Otherwise otherwise, page back--QUICKLY, and if you're nice--read one of my more sensible stories! That said--"Henrietta and the Foxy, Filthy SCAT Binge of Awfulness!" (which I've had a surprisingly fun time writing!)
Henrietta was a bad maid. A BAD bad maid. Whenever her master wasn't looking, she'd knock down a vase she didn't like, pretending it was an earthquake or tremor to draw his attention to the 'poor, frightened dear'. She combed out her long straight locks in the sink, which she had dyed pink of her own volition, much to his protests when he had lady friends over--and she always, always put the roll on backwards and flushed the toilet when he was in the shower. She wore her maid's ruffle unkempt on her head, and never, ever ironed her uniform between uses.
She loved her master, very, very, very much. Had a hopeless crush on him--Gregorio, all, dark, buff, and handsome. She particularly liked his dark, wavy black locks, the way he spoke to her--"Henrietta--gracious girl, you're squatting down upon everything I own, including my heart!" She was a vagrant in his home, a rotten trickster who stole kisses and rarely repayed them.
She liked him so much, she thought she'd play a rotten little trick on him one day. She found the master's secret stash--the place he'd hide his cash and jewels, and other fancy, secret things. One of them was a pretty shrub with pink flowers--a rare import, she'd heard, that bore the "Fruit of Eternal Rewards". It sounded so fancy she couldn't wait to have a taste, and share it with him--rub it straight in his face.
She'd get a spanking if she were lucky--her mind was twisted like that. She never feared the boot, because her master was both kind and gullible--and hopelessly enthralled with her.
"Let's see this fruit then," she whispered, pressing the wooden panel in the wall in, and sliding it aside. "Sweet jesus, it smells in here--like someone's been fermenting fruit and flowers too long."
Perhaps it was a touch of fancy, or her mind playing tricks on her from the smell, but it seemed like petals were swirling in the air, floating in orbit about the bush of maximum naughtiness. She beat back her hair as she ducked under the panel, crept up like a burglar, and snatched one of the peach-like fruits off of the bit of shrubbery decking the center of the room--in a tiny garden all its own, amidst fine polished oak and red velvet carpet, wherein lay green grass and brown soil.
"Just one munch, and then I'll shriek." she soliloquized to herself. "He'll come running and take a peak--and I'll meet his lips with mine, and we'll have a snack. That sounds fine." she nodded, closing her fair blue eyes, and raising the delicacy to her lips.
But oh, the irony when she bit down, and with a chew, and then a frown, her snout shot hard from what had been a pretty young girl's smooth face. "That's not too bad," she said with a munch, heedless of the crunch and shifting of the bones inside her face, as her features took a turn for the wild.
Her nose upturned as she chewed and got pulp on her lips, and licked juices from her cheek. It turned a brownish-black, fair, tiny, and wet, and snuffled and sniffed as she enjoyed the forbidden fruit far too much. Then, with a trumpeting fart, she grimaced and felt her stomache gurgle--dropped the fruit, and crossed her hands over her stomach--hands that had grown little cute claws, hands that had ballooned out into--paws.
"I think I'm gonna blow." She muttered. "This is... yummy, but ohhhhhh..." she sputtered. Bending down, she rested one padded paw that had been a hand in the dirt, grunted, and *POP*! from her britches came a tail--with fine orange hair, tipped in creme--great, bushy, nearly her entire torso's length--and with its sprouting came a stink, that brought foul Henrietta to the brink.
She tweaked a nipple, reaching in, to stroke her fair pert breasts. Though they were hardly winners--B cup, perhaps, at best. Her face grew blush and red in pallor, as fur spread up her nose, and though it pains me much to rhyme--fur spread across her toes.
"Yes, that was definitely not the best meal to sit on my poor stomach." thoughts of vanity vanished, and pooping became the priority. "Ugggh...." she moaned, feeling the relentless cramp and pressure against her cervix. The nerves within were getting stimulated in a way most unfitting for a maid. She palmed her head with pawed hand, as she felt a feverish blaze, and with one delighted push--she filled her pants up with shit.
The frilly white panties tented hard. Yet she seemed unaware of her act, even as the footsteps came, having heard her moanings. The pressure was still there, relentless, and the stimulation to her sexual nerves seemed only to intensify, even as her poor, tight bowels burned with need to relieve themselves of their contents.
She stumbled, and swayed, falling into her poor master's arms as her ears sprung up into foxy bells, tipped in black, cupped in cream, and surrounded in sherbet. She felt her pushing continue, and grew increasingly horny, her eyes still shut, embracing her master and touching his skin with her corrupted paws.
"Henrietta, you little..."
"Greg, I'm sorry, I thought it would be nice--but looks like I finally payed for it, too. You know me."
He opened his mouth with a start, and in came her tongue, big, broad, and sloppy. she cupped her changing jaw around his face, gave the best attempt at a frenching she could, and collapsed on him, in a stinking, shitty mess--her panties a makeshift diaper.
The curse traveled fast, and soon Greg too had a snout to sniff wildly about with. As the two made out, she pissed herself, soaking her clothes and his alike in the heat of rank fox urine. Pushing and pushing, she dropped her load hard, her panties falling down onto his stomach with a heavy thud and radiating her foul breed of warmth.
"You are so fucking hot, Greg." she moaned, as he began to undo her top, and lick her cleft--the one between her breasts, not her buttcheeks, mind you--naughty reader--with a foxy tongue all his own.
"You're such a bad maid, Henrietta." he cooed, warmly, nicking her ruff off her head, and tossing it aside as they snogged and pissed all over each other. She humped up and down, squishing her shitty underpants against his crotch in a firm pancake, and wagged her tail, slow and content, as she teased his erection, and unzipped his pants.
"Oh look at that--you're mine at last." she moaned, closing her eyes and bending down on the red fox erection. Drinking deep of his musky new scent, she licked the cock clean of precum, feeling its canine smoothness in her mouth--its naughty crook and the rigidness of its supporting bone. She got a mouth of piss, which she swallowed, feeling her vocal cords change, feeling a warmth building inside her.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaoooooooooo!" she cried, her head rocketing skywards for the Vixen's wail, as whiskers sprung up on her snout. "That packs a punch--let's do some fucking!" she cried eagerly, feeling new sensations beneath her hot, piss soaked frock, and opening her slitted yellow eyes, decked with little red third eyelids.
"I love you, Henrietta," her master said, now foxy-tailed and clawed. "You never leave me bored despite your penchant for disaster."
"Oh just shut up and be a fox and fuck and shit with me." she muttered, slapping him and ripping open her panties with her claws. The brown thick scat dropped off hard onto his chest as he pulled his shirt up off his head and disrobed--and god did it feel good and naughty to be a filthy beast like this.
She bent and teased his erection with her foxy black-haired clit. It had doubled in size, and was soaked in juices, stinking and filthy and ready for penetration. She got her first touches of his pointed foxy todd around her lovely lady lips, and flicked her naked butt and varmint tail up in the air, flecks of scat shaking off.
"Whipe me, you jackass," she whispered temptuously, turning her shit-stained butt to him. It had begun the journey to reshape into a fox's croup--but was not there yet, her buttcheeks having diminished slightly, her thighs beginning to reform into haunches. He stood awed at how the perverted act aroused him, how she took a ripped piece of lacy white pantie, and began to whipe herself with it like toilet paper, cleaning up for his dirty act.
He plunged his tongue into her crack, and she sat down on his face. Yes, reader, his snout practically penetrated her all on its own as he lapped and licked her dirty bits. The bitter taste of scat and the sweet taste of her spinchter came together to--well--probably not justify the unwholesomeness of the act--but it served to stoke the fire of their mutual erections, as she grew open and wet and messy, her tender clit aching for some affection, and he extended his foxy boner from its sheathe, ready to make her his. Whilst he licked her clean, she tended to his needy-hard on.
"Party, baby, we should try this on some of the houseguests one well-planned day." she grunted, feeling the dampness against her breasts, and ripping her blouse open to reveal eight little foxy tits. After a decent suckling of his cock, she took his newfound tail, and put her new additions to the test, rubbing his stink about her chest, and tickling her nipples with his brush.
"Definitely..." he concurred, his brain sinking deep into the hot sticky mire of animal arousal, as his locks began to shed, and the head of a fox revealed itself in full
The fumes of scat and scent and urine, all vulpine blisses, began to wrap themselves about the two in preparations for their final changes. The powerful stench vaporized their clothing, marking them head to toe in bushy, foul fur. Their shrinking and adjusting bodies now not far from full on animal, they resembled little more than a pair of reynards lovemaking in human fashion. He licked and lapped between black lips, straight into her open spinchter, as she expunged and pushed and squeezed out a solid second turd. The suddenness and immediacy of the moment caused him to catch the filthyness in his mouth, like a human--pardon--vulpine toilet.
Her response to his shock was just to sit down hard in his face and penetrate herself with his stifled snout, as she masturbated with clumsy foxified fingers. Every little rub, every tiny, threatening tickling touch of a claw to her clit, made her increasingly helpless to stimulate any further, as she watched her partner's legs bend and twist and reform, fully furred and pawed--black, stockinged things. She herself had unnoticingly given up human guise, now little more than a vixen, her pretty hair shedding as she finished her dump. With the last squirming squeezes, her thumb shriveled into dewclaws, and she padded about on all fours, flagging for her helpless victim.
God what a mess. His mouth was stretched painfully wide, like a jawbreaker, and he couldn't help but to chew the awful scat a bit as he rolled over to spit the mess out. Kinks were one thing, but this was the limit--it was time to punish that girl!
That's right... punish her. his stupid brain said, as he copiously salivated to clean the manky taste from his mouth. Both his eyes fixated entirely on her vulva, bloated like a cupcake stuffed too full with creme.
It was time to cash in. Dollar signs practically filled his eyes, and hers with hearts, as he jacked the jackpot. The sex pot. The... whatever.
His little furry balls beat and swayed against her legs, as he pistoned on and on--having lunged and lept onto her back, embracing his stinky little fate and form. The whiskers that adorned his face had twitched and tickled, as he rolled his head against her flank, danced with her, and mounted.
Fap fap fap. Fapping time for you, oh reader, as they regressed in stink and shit, their little brains complete, and ready to fuck.
His erection grew tight, pumping back in forth inside her canal. She spread wide, and every jackhammer tickled her clit, and teased her insides, until their brains were on full overdrive, and they'd hit the point of no return, where their humanity said "Fuck this shit", and went home--wherever that was--probably some Hell somewhere.
Harder... and harder... and harder... he pounded, until his humanity suddenly, having forgotten its briefcase or something, came back, realized what he was doing, and tried to pull a nerve in his head to get him to stop.
"The fruit is cursed!" It reminded him. "Fuck like that, and you'll be hers forever--a fucking fox with all your fortunes to shit upon, and to tear for bedding for her babies!"
And the love of money got him for just a second as he humped, his slitted eyes blinking wide as he held tight with little forepaws to her flank.
And then the knot did its special job. Oh yes, there would be no escape from this malfortune. Her rotten fox forever, would he be. For tug as he would plead his body to do, it only served to help intensify the rhythm as he helplessly pistoned back. His member had served its purpose all too well--and he was its slave--her slave, now and forever.
And naughty, bad Henrietta came a torrent, and her careless, gullible lover did so too, pumping fertile fox sperm into her hot, fox womb to fertilize her hot, fox eggs.
And they were horrible, stinky, sleek foxes, making babies and catching mice, and shitting and pissing all over the mansion's floors for the rest of their days.
The End.