The Kitsune
The KitsuneDisclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. Reader discretion is advised. It is part of a series of transformation chronicles called "metahuman".Written by Iscin on www.sofurry.com. All rights reserved © 2014.AltercationDillon Taichi ducks his head as the first fist comes swinging towards him. He can feel the most pronounced hairs on his pate being fanned back from the air rushing behind the fast moving object. Of course his assailant has two hands. A second fist is hurtling towards him from below. It strikes him full on in the gut. There is a delay before he can feel his diaphragm shunting up and pain emanating outwards from his crushed liver and stomach. The wind is knocked out of him and he starts falling backwards as his knees weaken. Two arms hook underneath his own, lifting and supporting him up."Stay still faggot." The leader of the group and his assailant snarls. He is a big guy called Mike, and by big we are talking half-breed giant here.Even on one and one against one of Mike's two "lieutenants" Dillon would never stand a chance. The young man is barely five foot two, and has all the muscle of a sick patient with atrophy. His diminutive nature was never a problem until coming to this place. Of all the places to enrol for his education, Jothcreek University must have been the worse option. He has enough time to dwell on the stupidity of coming here between one blow and the next. Mike is taking his time at least, he knows how to push his prey just so. No risk of killing him, just leaving him bruised all over and sore for the next week.There are rhetorical questions mixed in with the slurs and the other verbal abuse. All the while Dillon is holding his tongue all silent. Nothing can be done as he is held against the harsh face of a stone brick wall and Mike continues wailing into him. After a tenderising session with his stomach the brute finishes up with a couple of jabs along his jawline before Dillon starts looking a little too close to passing out. Of course his two sidekicks, Edvin and Alex let him down in the most complimentary way possible. As his face hits the tarmac Dillon thinks to himself he will just stay still. No movement, no noise except for the grunt as what little air is left in his lungs escapes.It is getting late now. The sun is already falling behind a distant row of buildings. Edvin and Alex seems ready to pick their favourite punchbag back up before Mike stops them. He says something in a hushed, growling tone that Dillon fails
to catch. And just like that the three of them depart together. The small, bruised man is left to open his eyes again and assess just how badly he is injured. Feeling around and moving his arms and legs a bit he hisses as pain shoots along one side of his torso. Something must be wrong with his ribcage, but he does not remember feeling nor hearing anything crack. He pauses and takes a deep breath before trying to roll over."AAARGH!" He cries out into the darkening skies as he flips on over on his back. Like a tortoise in the heat he lies back to collect his strength before trying to move again.This might take some time.Sanctuary"Who was the fucker then?" Lucy is wearing her war face Dillon stumbles in all red, black and blue.After making the spot to this place Dillon had been sure that his best friend from high school would be coming with him. Lucy is a red head that lives up to the fiery reputation. So it comes as no surprise that as he makes it past the door she is already grilling him over finding a target to take out her rising tide of anger upon them. He hisses as she grabs underneath his left arm, helping him to stumble inside. A good thing the dorm has an elevator, taking the stairs might have killed him. They make it to their second hand couch and Lucy lowers Dillon down on it.Five more minutes pass without Dillon answering any questions. Lucy brings him water, painkillers and a wet towel to mop up some of the dried blood. This is the reason he wanted them both to go to the same college. With no siblings of his own Lucy is the best thing to a sister Dillon has ever known, actually she is probably better. Even as she tends to his bruises she is pushing down that fire that is broiling underneath, mothering mode active."So who was it?" She resumes asking him after the meds have had time to take effect."Err, you know I don't recall." He says and that gets him a light thump against the lesser bruised arm. "Ow!""Ve have vays of making you talk." Lucy says with the most serious expression she can muster, unfortunately it cracks near the end."Ja herr kommandant. Vith zat face du must get plenty of vork ja?" He replies in a more consistent mock accent despite his injuries.Where Miracles HappenI have to get up. Dillon Taichi thinks to himself but his body does not seem to be listening. Straining his neck to the right he looks over to see the door that leads into the dorm room's
little micro-corridor. Beyond it is his room, Lucy's, a small storage closet and the shower room. Right now he is still rest up in the living room, with adjoining kitchen behind a half-wall. His pseudo-sister is out, having already made arrangements that he insisted she keep to. A date actually, lucky girl. He should just wait and try returning to sleep. Shit, I really have to piss."Everything sucks..." Dillon hisses to himself and tries to move the leg at the edge of the couch. It moves.He cringes as he swings both legs over. Twisting his torso this way and that he sits up on the couch and hunches over. No particular one spot is too painful, it is all more of a generally present aching. The painkillers are wearing off so he will have to get more once he has relieved himself. Getting up he starts walking over with grit teeth and hissing breath. He quickly makes it down the short corridor and opens the door into the shower room.The toilet seat is down, of course, so he lifts it up before standing in front of it. Legs spread, shoulders back. He fumbles with the zipper in his jeans before it finally unzips. Digging around inside he fishes out his trouser snake. The endowment is nothing remarkable, at the lower end of "average" at barely five inches when erect, though right now it is hardly two inches from joining his crotch. Dillon aims it at the basin, closes his eyes and lets a long blissful sigh.Now there is plenty of green swirling in the toilet bowl he tucks himself away and walks over to the sink. Looking at himself in the mirror makes him wince from the sight. His mixed asian features are usually smooth and relatively handsome, but right now they are a completely mess. Still very black and blue along his cheek, and with cuts along his brows and a split lip he is not a pretty sight at the moment. Amazing how they managed to inflict so much damage without breaking a bone here or there. At least Lucy insister on changing his shirt to a looser fit black one, the other bloody mess waiting in the laundry basket now. He turns on the faucet for the cold water and cups his hands underneath it.With each splash of cold water against his face Dillon can feel it stinging all over again. He grunts, but he wants to scream. The combination of the sight of himself and the recommencement of stinging pain just sparked an anger deep inside of him. This is no way to live. Surrounded by prejudiced morons with so few braincells he is still amazed they could even figure out he was gay. How did they know? Is it something about his body language?Dillon hangs his head over the sink and starts thinking. This can't go on. He has to find a way to get out, preferably without
keeping all the extant student debt. Coming to an arrangement or calling the cops are not genuine options here. The entire culture at Jothcreek is one of the middle ages. If he had been aware of how bad this quaint place was then he would have stayed well clear. Perhaps if he can find a way to convince his fan club that he is not the cock sucking homosexual they already know he is then they may yet leave him alone. Sadly the only recurring thought is one that ends with a whole lot more of his own bloody being spilled. No. I can't think about that!"Do you want a way out?" A cool and ethereal voice, like layers of wispy invocations brush over his ears. Dillon looks back up at the mirror with a start."What was that!" Dillon says out aloud."Answer the question." The non-corporeal voice replies somewhat more flatly than before."Err, yes?" Dillon says. And now I'm talking to the voices.Suddenly something electric runs across his skin underneath his shirt and pants. Dillon straightens his back whilst ignoring the pain. What was that? It felt like as though an electric charge had just passed through him, low enough to not cause any damage, and no shock neither. But before he can do or think anything further on this he feels a second thrill. Following it comes very strange. He can feel something tickling across his chest, arms, and legs. And now it is on his his neck, face, and ears. This sensation is spreading faster than he can keep track of and Dillon finds himself stepping running his hands over and around his arms and torso.Yet these odd sensations are nothing but a series of precursors to what happens now. It starts with an audible cracking sound. The volume of it coming from all around immediately tells Dillon that the sound is coming from his own bone structure. His pulse accelerate as more creaking, cracking and bone splitting sounds emanate from inside his skull and along his body. Bizarrely though there is no pain, not even from the cuts and bruises. Although the introduction of adrenaline to his bloodstream might be the thing masking that.Dawning realisation causes Dillon to freeze in place. His eyes lock on their reflection in the mirror in front. Bones are moving, skin stretching and weaving in different directions. It is all too surreal for him. It is as though his brain is lagging behind processing what is happening to him. Even as his face starts to contort, changing from the rounded scalp and features of a primate into the elongated and far more irregularly shaped snout of a dog or other four legged placental mammal he does not scream or move or
anything.Legs become longer and plantigrade become digitigrade. As this happens his pants tear almost effortlessly, the pressure put on his changes not lasting for very long. His arms are becoming thicker and more muscular looking, but also furry. Yep, that is definitely fur. Auburn and cream and midnight black spreading all over his chest, face and pretty much anywhere else. It is by this point that Dillon almost recognises the transmogrified face that is looking back at him from the mirror. Undeniable vulpine features. A fox. He is looking at a humanoid fox! Even is eyes are changing from their plain brown selves. The iris shifts into a rich orangey brown, whilst his the black iris elongates and grows a little, become pseudo-cats eyes. Again, just like a fox.The painless change is now coming to an end. Only two, well technically four things, are left to wrap up his rebirth. Firstly his ears move, sliding like pucks on ice. They grow pointy and curved like radar dishes. Fox ears swivel to face forward on top of his fur covered pate. And now he feels something moving behind him. For the first time since the process began Dillon turns, twisting his flexible body to look behind him. Two worm like things sprout out from the base of his spine, poking through his already torn jeans. Revulsion quickly turns to an odd kind of glee as these two tails sprout long lush locks of fur. Now he has two bushy tails they have a life of their own. He reaches out to touch one of them with a claw tipped hand. Cooing at the soft texture of the hairs slipping between sensitive paw pads."What... the fuck." Dillon says aloud as he looks back at the mirror.A part of him realises what has happened. There have been tales and news reports of similar transformations. But they are rare, remote and always happen to other people. Fantastic times do not always call for every life sharing in the fantasy. He does not understand what has chosen him or who that voice was. Hell he still is not sure if he is not dreaming this. But as he flexes and stretches his new and healed body a foxy grin appears on his muzzle. All of his wounds are now healed, and he swears he has grown a few inches, though that might just be the new digitigrade feet he is standing upon. Weird and wonderful changes about his body to explore.As one hand hands strays down over a lean six pack abdomen he is aware of something different between his legs. Dillon shreds away the last vestiges of his jeans to see that instead of the normal human tackle he has something furry and tube like pressed against his crotch. A sheath? He strokes one thumb over it, careful not to catch it with the claw. It feels different, but good. He now also checks his balls, both larger and significantly
more furry than before. They appear otherwise unchanged. Bending and twisting his body he checks himself out, flexing his arms and legs. They seem thicker and stronger. Yet still lean and not especially bulked up. Damn I look good!"Time to head outside and play." The puckish and ethereal voice whispers to him. Dillon agrees.Cover of NightEverything appears as though it is daylight, or just about. It is unreal and indicative of a lucid dream. He might keep pinching himself if not for the wickedly sharp, and retractable, silvery claws he now sports on both hands. Or are they now paws? In any case Dillon is eager to discover just what he can do. He has heard the news, read the reports on those other men and women. The people who have been turned into some kind of animal men are not merely naturalistically different, but often display talents that are nothing short of supernatural. Maybe he has been similarly blessed. Just maybe he is more than a walking talking freak.The streets outside are both dark and empty. On a Friday night such as this almost all of the students are out with the townies. Drinking, playing, and fucking all their worth well into Saturday. Being as such no one has yet laid eyes upon the furry two tailed fox-man that descended the dorm building and is standing now standing outside, butt naked. Not that Dillon would mind being caught, just to see their reaction. It is a curious thing but he not only feels different, but believes he might be starting to think differently too. But this curious metacognition is not on the forefront of his mind as he sniffs the air and inclines his head in the direction of the town.Dillon takes flight, so to speak, on all fours. This mode of four legged running seems natural, instinctual to him really. His tongue hangs out as he picks up the pace, approaching the kind of speed one might expect of a trained attack dog. With each contact with the road underneath his paws he can feel the shock of the impact. He must be almost five feet and ten inches tall now, or at least he guessed when comparing to the furniture inside. However, more curiously is the muscular nature of his flesh underneath the fur. He is lean with tightly compact muscle. Of course muscle weights significantly more than fat or other body tissue. So with each shift of his weight along the ground Dillon is keenly aware of his own weight and power. Just the act of running is making him excited.He quickly reaches the town, covering a kilometre and a half in less than ten minutes. Dillon gets back on just the two legs, preferring and comes off the main road. His new ears easily pick up the sounds of people, most of them drunk. They are in
the clubs, the public houses, and milling the streets in the town centre. Ignoring the repugnant smells drifting his way, some of them having clearly already been sick, Dillon takes stock of his situation and his purpose being here. There is only one logical thing to do after having a night like this. On an intrinsic level he knows what that voice would tell him, if it did not already know he would do this.Mike...Yes, his ultimate goal will be to exact his revenge upon that brute. But for his penultimate he wants to find his two wingmen first. And in order to locate them he has to get on some higher ground. Thankfully there are buildings everywhere, being as he is in town. And as for getting up there, his sharp and hooked black claws should be more than enough. He looks down at his hands are tries flexing them. Dillon still only has a partial amount of control over retracting and extending them again. But it should be enough for this.Picking out a nearby hotel Dillon runs down the alleyway around it avoiding being seen. He faces the brick wall, craning his neck to see just how high up it goes. Five stories, an easy one. The fox-man backs up before taking a running leap. Using only his two powerful legs he manages to clear the ground floor and almost cover the first. Before he connects with the wall and holds out all four sets of claws. His body bends, flexes, and his claws finally manage to anchor themselves. Dillon blinks and looks down. Wow, it actually worked.Next comes to the piecemeal process of working out just how to retract his claws and then hook himself into the next set. He slowly makes his way up whilst being careful to work around the windows and less solid looking portions of the wall. He soon reaches the top and has left a trail of dark black pits in the face of the red brick wall. They bounds over the top with the agility of a gymnast before looking back down. It is bemusing to him how he used to scared of things like rock climbing. But now he feels more confident in himself, and with good reason too."Now where are you..." He mumbles to himself as he looks out into the rest of Jothcreek like some long eared superhero crouched on the rooftop.CorneredWith a loud crash Dillon throws himself through the window. Shards of glass go flying everywhere. And yet none of this shrapnel cuts nor penetrates the skin underneath his fur. He is quickly starting to realise that there is more to his transformation than a different shape of carbon. But he will have to continue picking it up as he goes. Right now he has someone else to deal with."What the
fuck!" Edvin exclaims. The red haired young man has been partaking in his favourite substance this evening: meth.Edvin is actually a bit of a lackey drug dealer himself. Working part time for the sole seller in Jothcreek. This much Dillon already knew. But what he is just now finding out is that sometimes on a Friday night he will find a room in one of the motels near the edge of town and spend a night utterly doped up. It is common enough that the manager pays no mind to college kids or more traditional junkies when they take out a room for a little privacy; well that and the prostitutes too."Don't you recognise me?" Dillon says as he jumps up on the bed. Edvin recoils, his back against the wall and his eyes darting back and forth between the creature and his stash of crank by the desk.Dillon's twin tails are flicking madly behind him. The sound of their whipping back and forth in the air drawing Edvin's attention back to the thing in front of him. As the fox-man extends his claws and holds them up his prey is still unsure if he is hallucinating or what. Whatever made dash of thoughts are running through the human's mind he soon lands on the only worthwhile option: flight. As he starts to move Dillon is already moving to counter, his whiskers twitching as he snarls and presses his clawed hands against Edvin's chest. With almost laughable ease he pins the human down against the motel mattress."PLEASE GOD NO!" Edvin hollers in a mixture of begging and screaming. He has both arms folding over his head as if to hide behind them.The claws are making their mark and Dillon can smell the haemoglobin rich scent of blood. Just a scratch though. A second more and he can smell the fowler stench of urine. Pissing himself in fear it seems. But now Dillon is conflicted. He did not plan this far. He does not know what his heart truly desires. His quarry is cornered and terrified, albeit in a drugged up state. Now he has to decide what, if anything, he does next?"You already know what to do." That voice returns."What? Tell me!" Dillon snarls looking away from the human and looking around the room as if paranoid. But only he can hear the voice. Only the soft whimpering of poor little shaking Edvin can be heard.Suddenly Dillon understands, or at least a part of him understands in a fashion. His tails are still agitated. Every strand of hair sticking out, making them appear more spiky than bushy. As he holds down the human beneath him, who is frozen with terror by this point, the transformed fox-man's tails come around. They wrap themselves up and around Edvin. He resumes squirming
as one of the tail tips presses down over his nose and mouth. Dillon is not sure what is happening until an odd orangish glow starts to emanate from both of the tails.That sensation from before, the odd electric thrill is back. Before he even knows what is happening Dillon feels a second growth spurt come over him. He can feel his mass increasing as the springs in the mattress underneath creak and bend. It is an utterly intoxicating experience as the biological mass that was Edvin is subsumed and a third tail replaces the area where the human once laid. The only remnants of the human are his clothes that slip free of the now unfurling tails. Dillon rolls off of the bed and stumbles around a bit, his weight shifting ever so slightly whilst three tails now swishing around behind him.Though he is unsure of it himself, Dillon has in fact grown again to be just over six feet tall. As the process settles he is once more stretching and flexing. Checking out even thicker arms and stronger thighs. He is becoming bigger and stronger. Dillon reaches around for his tails and strokes all three of them with a smile on his face. The fact that he just effectively ended a man's existence does not bother him in the slightest. This is something he has never known before. Power and control, the ability to take whatever he wants. But more than that, he now realises just what he has become."I'm a kitsune aren't it?" He says to himself."Yes." The voice answers.InfiltrationFrom Edvin's cellphone Dillon is able to discover where Alex is holed up. Unlike his ex-friend, the slightly more smart of the two brick heads is spending his evening at the club. Both him and Mike are there now, no doubt embroiled in dance, drink, and the fairer sex. Dillon leaves the motel room by the same way he came in. With leaps and bounds he quickly makes his way across the rooftops. Rushing for a confrontation that was inevitable the moment he was given this power.Lucky Bay was once a pirated themed family restaurant. That was before the university was built. Now it serves as a club for the developing nightlife in Jothcreek. Because of its previous nature as a themed restaurant the building is not exactly as secure as some other clubs are. Most notably there is a small warehouse bay around back. This used to be where an inordinate amount of foodstuffs would be delivered. But now it is in disuse as the only thing the club needs are a few crates of booze delivered for the weekend.With the darkness as his friend the kitsune leaps down from the rooftop to just in front of the sliding warehouse doors. His senses on alert
he makes sure that no one is nearby and watching before bringing out the claws. He places his right hand, or paw, against the door. Lets see just how sharp these things are. Dillon starts to cut into the linked metal strips. As he does so the sound is a little bit shocking, though that might be due to his enhanced auditory senses. Nevertheless the claws are doing their job so he adds his left hand too and slices a big fox-man shaped hole.Now that he is inside he can hear the music as though he were on the dance floor itself. These people have no taste. But the choice of music will have to be something he has to bear with. Right now Dillon has to be careful about where he goes. Ignoring the crates and junk just lying around he makes his way through to the staff door that leads into the rest of the building proper. On it he rests one of his ears and listens carefully. One heartbeat. It seems very clear to him that a staff member, maybe even a bouncer, is somewhere on the other side of this door.Dillon reaches for the handle, grabs it, and in a moment of "what if" he squeezes it until the metal buckles and bends underneath his grip. Woah. The handle and adjacent lock mechanism is permanently damaged by the application of his hand alone. Superhuman strength is checked then. But now he has to open the door very carefully and peek out to check where that heartbeat is specifically situated. With any luck he can either sneak by without having to involve anyone other than his intended targets."Hey! Who- wait what is..." The deep voice of one of the bouncers reaches Dillon's ears before his eyes can track and find the source of it.He has to act quickly. So he opens the door with no pretence of sneaking by and runs forward. He slows himself just in time before body slamming the burly black man in a t-shirt and black pants. The bouncer is already reaching for his gun, they are very serious in this place. Even if he his supernaturally invulnerable too there is no way he can risk a gunshot sounding. So Dillon does the only thing he can think of, he hands the palm of his hand squarely against the man's face. It is something he has seen in a movie, he thinks, and he does not have the self-awareness to tackle and try to disarm the man before he can fire his gun, or possibly even tear a limb off after confirming his unnatural strength.The blow has to be careful of course, but even so Dillon cringes as he feels the man's nose go crunch underneath his palm. In any case the professional is surely knocked out as he falls backwards and skids along the ground a little. His face is bloody, but he is still breathing and his gun is still in its holster. I guess that was okay. Not wanting to
take chances Dillon is now quick to start moving the bouncer's unconscious body back through into the little warehouse. He sets him down as gently and comfortable as possible, whispering a genuine apology to him as he does so."Why are you being so careful?" The voice returns with a question, but Dillon has plenty of his own."What are you? Who are you?" He fumes silently whilst in the small warehouse."If you make it you'll get your answers. But I'd still like to know. You do realise that by this point you could go on a rampage and nothing could stop you. Why you are being so careful?""Because I care. I'm not monster, and when others find out what I am I don't want to give them cause to believe I am.""Denial. You are a kitsune now. Ergo you ARE a monster. Give it time.""Is this what all of this is about? Making monsters?" Dillon asks, but the voice is already gone.Yet something very curious suddenly happens as he turns back and reaches for the door back to the corridor. As he extends his hand he notices it changing, quickly losing its fur and resuming a more normal primate arrangement of bone and flesh. With a sly grin Dillon realises that he has discovered something new and very useful for himself. That's right, kitsunes can cast illusions. Fuck yeah.Tail ??It is unreal to him as he walks among the young and popular faces from college. For all intents and purposes he has resumed his old appearance, complete with clothes, but he feels the same as before underneath this charade. Some of the club goers them seem to sort of recognise him, but he has one of those faces, so no one cares to bother him. Just as well seeing as Dillon is not here to socialise, or at least not the kind of two faced pussyfooting these windbags want. A part of him wants to change back, to see their reaction as he growls and bares his teeth. It would amuse him, but would get in the way of his task here.Both Mike and Alex are in the club, one of them upstairs in one of the private rooms, and the other still on the dance floor. Dillon is happy to find that it is Alex who is still clubbing with the masses. Good thing, as with the amount of alcohol Alex is going through he will, ah and there he is. Dillon watches with great interest as Alex starts to wobble away from one of the dance floor. A blonde girl holding his arm util he finally shakes her off.Need a piss do you, Alex? Dillon follows his prey all the way until Alex
somehow manages to make it into the restroom without collapsing.Dillons ears are twitching underneath the illusion as he listens carefully in front of the restroom door. Only one heartbeat inside. He follows Alex inside and spies the man standing, with a wobble, at one of the urinals. He quickly moves one of the paper trash cans in front of the door. It is not very big, but will offer a little time for him to react before someone can walk in without knocking. Alex has not noticed the presence of the other person in the restroom with him.Excitement is building up again and the kitsune's mask is slipping. He approaches slowly from behind, his steps slow and purposeful. Reaching out with one hand Dillon taps Alex's left shoulder and the idiot turns around, still pissing with urine splashing own on the floor below. His facial expression is sluggish, eyelids drooping, but he recognise Dillon's old human face immediately."W-Why are you ssshere?" Alex is slurring his words whilst Dillon feels the splashing back of urine against his feet."Oh fuck this." Dillon says and drops the illusion."Ffffffffuck!" Alex manages to say whilst stumbling back. His bum hits the urinal and he slips, in no small part due to the puddle now on the floor. He falls backwards with his head hitting the urinal basin knocking him out cold."Well, that was easy." Dillon says to himself. It is a little disappointing honestly but there is nothing he can do now, except take what he came for.All three tails are becoming agitated again. They swing around whilst Dillon folds his hands out as if presenting a sacrifice. That sensation is returning again, that electric buzz. Sharps ends of the hair follicles along his tails press against the unconscious Alex's body as they begin to do their magic. This time though the experience is more intense, far more enjoyable than the last. Dillon is rolling his head back and making groaning, growling sounds from his muzzle. Taller, stronger, more power flowing through his veins and into his flesh and bone. He can feel every cell in his body vibrating with energy.Am I taking their souls? Is that what I am doing? He is wondering all the while the process is continuing. There are so many questions he already has for that person, that entity that speaks to him. But it seems as time goes on he is finding even more questions, and perhaps there will never be sufficient answers for it all. But regardless of the ethics, scientific or philosophical problems here he still knows one thing. This feels fucking amazing!Vengeance
IncarnateNow having acquired his fourth tail Dillon checks himself out in one of the mirrors in front of the sinks. Definitely bigger, much bigger. He must be nearly seven feet tall now. Though to be specific he has reached six foot ten. Two hundred and eight centimetres of towering, bodybuilder physique kitsune. He looks amazing but is feeling greater still. Closing hie eyes Dillon focuses on the desire to change his appearance and as he opens his eyes he looks like his old safe again in the mirror. Okay then, time go go say hello to Mike.He moves the trash can back and opens the restroom door. Immediately he can feel his ears invisibly brushing against the door frame. Hmm. I'll have to be careful about that. This time he moves like an arrow for the staircase. Anyone in front of him he not so politely pushes aside. People wonder just what happened as they spin around to see a small guy walking past them. Dillon has no time left, his heart is racing as he ascends the flight of stairs. Now he is walking down the corridor with multiple doors. Each one leads into a separate private room. He knows which one he wants as he can hear that brutes sickening voice.Dillon stops at the fifth door down. There is a card on the handle: DO NOT DISTURB. He tries the knob and finds it locked. Like that is going to stop him. He raises one foot, wanting to make a good impression and kicks the door. It comes open with a loud bang, one of the hinges coming loose as it swings around slamming into the wall. The first thing that happens is the girls start screaming. Two blondes, both the most obvious sluts Mike could have possibly picked up. They soon stop as Mike shushes them and they switch from shock to anger. Angry words are spun Dillon's way as Dillon climbs out of bed. He is only wearing his briefs, they do not look very full."What the fuck are you doing here Dillon? Are you looking for another round?" He is angry, that fire will be useful."Girls you might want to leave us." Dillon says calmly, his eyes not leaving his prey."Hey what happened to your bruises..." Mike's voice trails off as the illusion slips awayTo his credit Mike does not try running, at least at first. He is standing in front of the approaching Dillon Taichi, born again kitsune, with a steadfast if suddenly frightened look in his eyes. Dillon walks on up, confident and with a smirk on his face. At six foot ten he feels like a veritable giant. Even when compared to Mike who is still an impressive six foot four. But it is more than just the height. It is the muscles, the claws, and the undoubtedly supernatural power that is pulsating within him. There is no
fear, no wavering of confidence. Nor are there any doubts or trepidation for what he intends to do here, tonight, to this subhuman."I'll say it again," Dillon growls in an unnaturally gravelly tone. "Girls, leave, NOW."Finally they do as he says. What they witnessed is enough to keep them cowed in silence as they grab their clothes and give the kitsune a wide berth. The light from the corridor is making Dillon's silhouette appear even more beastly. For all Mike knows he is looking at a werewolf. But only a few seconds ago he could swear he was looking at tiny, harmless Dillon, his favourite faggot punching bag. Finally the situation click in his head and just like Alex the flight instinct prompts itself."Ah, ah, ah!" Dillon admonishes as the mostly naked man tries to run around him.It only takes one hand to grab him. The claws scratching him make Mike yell out in pain, but it is not as bad as his arm being yanked from the shoulder. The kitsune throws his human prey back and on top of the mattress. He bounces on the creaking springs, arms and legs flailing like some tortoise, trapped in the heat and on its back. Dillon's excitement is starting to show. As the human rights himself and sits up he can see something long, crimson red and pulsating from the creature's crotch. With the thickness of a baseball bat and still growing Dillon is ready to exact his penultimate vengeance now.The kitsune leaps up on top of the bed, and by consequence on top of Mike. His claws around the man's hairy chest he tells him to stay still whilst the other paw swipes down and slices the top of his brief's elastic band, they come off in no time. Mike tries to shout for help but a hand covers his face. Using his other arm alone Dillon turns the human over. His cheeks are already bunched up tighter than a guy standing out in the winter snow. Of course that is only going to make this all the more painful for poor virgin Mike.He can feel him pressing against him now. Arms like steel trapping him here in this nightmare. Yet this all feels too real to be a dark dream. It is as though something like a live python is running up against his butt cheeks. Its head salivating over him with musky pre-ejaculate running down the crack and trickling over the back of his legs and ball sack. Could this be karma for him? In this moment of calm before the horror all that Mike can focus on are the good things in his life, as few as they have ever been.Penetration.Dillon suddenly realises something. He has never done this before. He has always been gay, sure, but he was never the one on top. Now for the very first time he is
mounting someone else, and a virgin who is fighting him at that. It might be in part due to his new body, something about a dick that belongs on a donkey, but it is feeling fantastic! Something primal is pumping through his veins as he uses his augmented strength to force more of himself deeper and deeper inside of Mike's virgin ass. The human screams and hollers into the large paw covering his mouth. He kicks his legs back, some of them striking Dillon, but they feel like light pats. This is intoxicating for him. The act of conquest, of holding your enemy down and fucking him like a bitch in heat is unparalleled.The kitsune is incapable of resisting his own horny urges. He plunges the rest of his doggy dick into the human, all the way to the fat base where the curving bump of a dormant knot lies. It feels like something may have broken inside of Mike there. His ass feels a tad bit looser, yet still tight enough as Dillon pulls back. He growls and thrusts into Mike again, over and over again. Jackhammering into the human he starts panting as his furry nuts slap into the back of Mike's legs. He is being caught up so completely that his paw slips away from Mike's mouth. But it does not matter if someone hears. What are they doing to do when they find a giant human fox having his way with Mike?In any case Mike seems to have lost the ability to make any coherent shouting. Tears of pain are wiping off on the pillow as he bites down on it, the picture of a stereotype. As the music thrums underneath them Dillon continues his carnal act. Fucking Dillon until the human is as raw as possible without killing him. And even with the nature of losing his anal virginity, Mike is unable to resist the stimulation of his prostate being tapped on and rubbed against so thoroughly. Yet before he can have his own climax Mike is already losing consciousness, his senses overwhelmed and both his body and pride injured.Dillon does not even notice that Mike has passed out. His grunting and growling are becoming more and more agitated as his pre is running back down from Mike's abused back entrance to his legs and sheets. The kitsune is close not, oh so very close. Guided by instinct he nuzzles into Mike's neck, going down to his left shoulder. Dillon bares his fangs and sinks them into Mike's flesh. The human returns to the land of the conscious with a scream. Just in time it seems as Dillon thrusts with all of his strength, just about breaking poor Mike's spine as his knot starts swelling up.The production of a supernatural beast with testicles the size of small cantaloupes is something that is very substantial. Mike is receiving first hand experience of this as he screams and bites into the pillow, his cheeks tensing up and his stomach lurching from the force of Dillon's beginning
ejaculation. As for the kitsune himself, he is happy to let rip a hearty howl. Something this loud can surely be heard by people in the adjacent rooms and downstairs. It matters now, as he has now got what he came here for."Yesss. Just so..."Next Step: GodhoodHis tails are agitated again. The four of them together are like hydra looking for something to snap at. It seems a pity to have to do this. He would rather leave Mike as he is, broken and soiled. To live out the rest of his days as a disabled victim. But there is also some degree of pity he feels for him. Has he truly suffered enough? Maybe now then Mike should become a part of something greater than himself. The tails are voracious as they wrap themselves around Mike's debilitated body even with Dillon's huge foxhood still lodged deep inside of him.Electric tingle. Energising flow. A slight glow as Mike's body diminishes and diminishes, fading away to become nothing but another tail. Dillon shivers as he feels his cock exit the warm confines of Mike's rectum. He looks down at it and strokes the pointed tip with one hand. Shivering in response he leans down and kisses it. Almost as if to say "Good boy" on its first domination of far more to come.Dillon now gets up off the bed and feels the ceiling brushing against his head. He looks down and over at his furry body. He must be seven feet tall now at least. And these biceps. Flexing his arms with a smile he muses at the strength he now possess, both obvious and hidden. Five tails are now swishing behind him and he feels like he can do anything he wants. Be anyone he wants. Do anyone he wants. But first he has to consider that someone will step through that open door soon. So he resumes his disguise but is interrupted before he steps out."Now you have finished your initial transformation, we have somewhere we need you to be. The ethereal voice returns."What? You haven't explained anything yet. Why are you giving me directions now?""You have proven that your will matches your new form. Now we need you to help do something for us. Unless of course you want to return to what you were." The voice actually explains something, complete with a threat."I assume that asking about this 'we' is not going to get me anywhere. So how about this question: What about my sister?""She's coming too. We always wanted you as a pair.""...What as?""Smart like a fox too."