FSE

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Chapter 2

With no warning or flourish, Beth removes the dust-sheet from the mirror. I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't the sense of confusion that rushes at me from the looking glass; when you look in a mirror, you expect to see yourself, its what life has programmed you with from birth.

I'm staring into the mirror, but I don't recognise myself. The creature. The fox, staring back at me. I have to glance at the photo, still resting on my dressing table, just to be sure she hasn't pulled some trick and covered over the mirror with it. Seconds pass silently, and even my normally restless hands are motionless at my sides.

'What do you think?' Beth is asking, as she steps behind me. I can see her in the mirror, peering over my shoulder, looking all normal and human. I follow her gaze at it glances down the length of the glass. My body so obviously that of a fox, the precise dark circles of my nipples, as if peeking through fur, the alien black lips of my cunt, the cream-white flash down my chest, and the darkening of my paws. My hands and feet.

But it is my face. And it isn't that I don't like it. I just truly cant actually believe it is me, even when I half smile, and the fox smiles back.

She looks... divine. I wonder if that is it. I'm not used to looking in the mirror to see something wondrous staring back. I glance up, the perked up ears emerging from my hair as if they've always been there, with their off-white inner fur.

As I stare at myself, another peculiar sensation starts to creep over me, conflicting and contradicting the lack of self-recognition. Something else that is even harder to explain. A sense of half-remembered familiarity. Of having been here before. Not exactly the goose-bumps of deja vu... but more like... the natural, welcome comfort of homecoming. I blink several times, unsettled by the thought.

_'Finally the TRUE Katlyn' is revealed _ your troublesome voice in my head does little ease the maelstrom. But it does give me a way of explaining it. The hours I've spent inside the virtual body of your vixen, the things I've done in her instance. It's no wonder I have some... attachment, to the form. I sigh, almost relieved at being able to rationalise the almost nauseous sensation away.

Beth is still waiting, and I guess it's not the first time one of her customers has been literally lost for words.

Tentatively I turn a little, one way, then the other, as if trying to catch my reflection out. But every new angle reveals more little details, the exquisite whiskers painted, the intricate work around my eyes, my mouth which simply cant be my own, with its thin lips and delicately featured muzzle.

It's... remarkable' I manage, unable to take my eyes off myself.

'Yeah... it's not bad... even if I say so myself' Beth smiles modestly over my shoulder. 'You really like it?' she can obviously sense the hesitation in my voice.

Jesus... do I like it? Even *I* want to fuck the woman in the fox paint. 'It's... I just never imagined it would look so.... so real...' beneath the makeup I can feel my cheeks burning, and I'm acutely aware that my black pussy lips are hiding a molten heat within.

'It's a shame they don't make furry makeup, huh?' and Beth startles me by running her fingers down my spine, stopping just short of my ass, though her fingers linger, resting in the small of my back, her touch warm and firm.

Again, her words catch in my brain, remembering some past liaison with you, and for a brief moment I glance to the dressing table, my heart refusing to take it's next beat until I see the bottle of make-up remover, still nestling amongst your other vials and containers. 'I think for a first outing, this is going to be more than enough, thank you Beth. It's truly... exceptional'.

Her smile broadens a little, her hand still in the small my back. 'Of course, it's not quite finished yet, is it?' and there is mischief in her tone as she holds up the tail plug over my other shoulder, it's fox-fur brushing tantalisingly against my skin.

'I... um...' words fail me completely, but some part of my twisted mind likes the way she is holding it, her makeup stained fingers wrapped around the neck of the plug, her reflection still smiling at my fox-face in the mirror.

'May I?' she continues, stepping away from me, and from somewhere, has found my bottle of lubricant.

'She may... fox-slut... she most certainly may... mayn't she?'

Swallowing I turn from the mirror, giving myself one more glance, the brown and black of my legs seeming to highlight muscle tone. This wasn't how I'd planned it.

'I bet you don't do this on movie sets' I whisper in a nervous, hushed tone, feeling her gaze on my ass as I step back towards the bed.

'Not generally... no... mostly... we don't get to fuck...' I turn to stare at her, unable to conjure up a response, and I can only watch as she lifts the tip of the plug to her lips, rolling it against her tongue, apparently not knowing or caring whether I might have previously tried it on.

'We... get to fuck... then?' the words have escaped my mouth before I've even considered them, and I barely recognise my voice as my own. I'm still staring at her as she kisses the crystal tip of the tail plug.

'If you'd like...' she whispers around the plug, the furred tail trailing down her chest... 'once you have this in...'

I don't know whether I feel relief that the subject is at last out in the open, or trepidation that I'm about to have sex with the young make-up artist in my marital bed, or that I'm about to do it all whilst painted as a fox.

Kneeling on the bed, I rest forward on my elbows, watching over my shoulder as Beth drizzles a generous amount of ID Velvet lubricant onto the tip of the plug, watching as it trickles down the bulbous crystal, careful to stop any drips reaching the fur tail.

'So... you chose this, right?' she purrs, as she steps towards my perked russet ass. 'I mean... it's not... they didn't send you the wrong size...'

'I chose it..' I say simply, my foxish smile curls a little at the corners, another of my fetishes about to be revealed... maybe more than one. Yes the plug fits... quite easily... not that it isn't a little uncomfortable at first... but I don't mind that, either.

As Beth kneels on the bed holding the plug, still in her painted-on jeans and top, I lower my cheek to the sheets, forearms outstretched on the cool satin, my painted ass perked high, awaiting the finishing touch of my transformation.

I bury a soft moan in the sheets as her fingers spread my cheeks, exposing the obviously well-enjoyed knot of my ass, and then, a sharp squeal as instead of the smooth, cool plug, I feel her hot breath, immediately followed by the press of her lips, an electric flicker of her wet tongue.

'Beth!' I gasp, my paws raking at the sheets... 'BETH!.... Jesus!... god...'.

There is no answer.... only Beth's tongue lathing my twitching, convulsing ass, as her fingers curl, tightening their grip on my ass cheeks. Oh fuck.

I lift my head as my back arches keenly, opening my eyes for a moment I glimpse our reflection in the mirror. My mind almost tumbling into shock at the sight... the painted fox woman bucking on her hands and knees, perked ass presented and being devoured by the kneeling artist.

For a moment I am just an observer, feasting my eyes on the most exquisite, fucked-up pornography... except it is my body, my ass, I am the fox, and I can feel every flick ant twist of Beth's tongue, every prickle and scratch of her raking nails.

Closing my eyes again I bury my head in the sheets once more, surrendering to the hunger of this girl I've barely known two hours, with whom I evidently have more in common than I first knew.

I've no idea how long she knelt and devoured me for, and I barely realised she had worked the plug into my wet, pulsating ass before she came up for breath, by which time my painted thighs were slick in appreciation of her efforts.

Eventually, resting back on her haunches, she announced 'There!' running her fingers over the in-place tail, deliberately tweaking it a little, tugging at the firmly seated plug, the soft fur of the tail brushing feather-like at the backs of my thighs as it sways slightly.

Glancing in the mirror again, my eyes widen. Not just at the thick, lustrous tail rising up from behind, but also at Beth, who at some point as shed her own top, now in just her hugging jeans.

Her torso is not entirely naked though, there is tattoo ink covering much of her body... I'm so surprised that I roll onto my back, staring at her, my eyes flicking from one detail to the next.

'Wow!' I whisper as my eyes roam her body. Around her slender waist there is an intricately detailed black snake... its coils seemingly tight around her, its broad head at her left breast, a slender trail of blood running from the serpents biting fangs.

There are other animals too, a tarantula crawls over her shoulder, a spider's web decorates part of her right breast. but I am drawn most to the panther, not quite asleep on a branch across her chest, above her delicate, small breasts.

Oh my, she's quite the perfect toy, isn't she. Your voice is dripping with filth and desire in my ear.

'Wow... Beth...' I whisper again, still a little breathless 'that was... umm... unexpected...' my eyes still lingering heavily on her decorated body.

'The rim job... or the tattoos...?' she smiles coyly and licks her lips salaciously, her own eyes glancing down at my russet and cream body, the white furred tip of the tail peaking out from my back. 'You're not the only one with kinky secrets and desires you know' she purrs.

'I would have saved your ass til last, but I could never fuck a vixen without her tail...' her eyes are still on my hips.. 'How does it feel?'

'The plug? Good...' I squirm, clenching my ass invisibly around it. It does feel good. Invasive, solid, exquisite.

'Slut' she whispers... 'you took it too easily...'.

‘That’s hardly surprising after... and you call ME a slut’ I giggle softly, as I watch her kneeling on the bed, her eyes still prowling hungrily over her latest creation. ‘And I thought I’d hired a make up artist, not a professional ass whore’.

Beth recoils as if I've offended her, though still with a playful glint in her eyes. 'I'm not an ass whore... I'll leave that to you... I'm just... well practiced...'

Chapter 3

It could be minutes or hours later that my phone rings, I've no idea of the time. We are both laid naked atop bed sheets that I am going to have to launder as the shrill tone of my mobile cuts the air. Both sated for a moment at least, each of our faces glistening with the other's pleasure.

'Yes, sorry... Okay.. I'll be down in 5 minutes.. yes, fine' I assure the impatient taxi driver whilst trying to keep my voice level, as Beth's fingers trail with deliberate mischief over my hips.

'I'm sorry' she purrs, slipping effortlessly from the bed, and I watch languidly for a moment as she pulls her jeans on, covering an exquisite, fire-breathing dragon wrapped about her left thigh.

For a long moment, I consider cancelling the taxi. Aborting my night out, and spending the night instead exploring the further delights of Beth. It is only half past eight. I can only imagine what we else we might get up to if time allowed.

But I have come this far, and I think even Beth would be disappointed if her latest work didn't get the public airing it was owed.

Hastily we dress, not that it takes much time to zip myself into the skirt. I feel her standing behind me as I straighten my top down in front of the mirror, the crop T not quite reaching my navel, the cream and russet of my belly exposed.

'Rather stating the obvious, isn'it it?' she smirks, her hands reaching around, tracing the 'Vixen' slogan across my breasts.

'I wasn't expecting to be quite so obviously foxy' I grin, glancing again into the mirror, still not recognising myself as the fox-woman stares back at me, the artist's fingers still lingering, splayed across cotton of my top.

'Mmmm, I'll take that as a compliment I guess' her fingers trail down across the bare landscape of my stomach.. 'I'd fuck you' she whispers in my ear as her hands reach down across the narrow strip of my skirt... I cant resist leaning back against her for a moment, as she pulls the hem up, barely a couple of inches to reveal the glistening, black lips of my cunt.

'You already did..' I drag my eyes away from where her fingers threaten to reduce me to a quivering wreck again... 'and you will again, but not just now' I stroke my own hands down across the skirt, straightening it, as far as it will go.

She pouts 'I know... you'll tell me how it goes tonight, yes?'

'In every slippery detail' I assure her. 'You could come too?' I offer again.

'Like this... that would hardly do... but next time, definitely' she has finished hastily packing her makeup away, and I help her down the stairs with one of the cases.

She leaves after a lingering kiss that promises more to come in the fullness of time, and I take a moment, alone in the house to gather my thoughts and steel myself.

'You'll be fine my love... this is what you were born to do... *look* at you' Your voice, your whispered assurance as I glimpse myself once more in the hallway mirror.

I pick my cape off the hat stand, draping it around my shoulders and pulling the hood up. As brave as I might (or might not) be, I'm definitely not ready for the neighbours to see me like this, and besides, neighbours have a habit of talking to husbands.

I pull the midnight blue velvet of the hood forward, my painted features receding into shadow. I pause a final time, my hand on the front door catch, summoning up the bravado. I can do this. I need to do this. Not for you, or Beth, or anyone else, but for me.

Taking a breath I swing the door open and step through it into the night before my resolve evaporates into the night sky. 20 yards away a silver Mercedes has it's engine running, and a cab number emblazoned

I walk self consciously toward the safe haven of the car, for once glad that the street lamp immediately outside my house is defective. Recognising the name of the taxi firm on the door, I don't bother to check with the driver first, but quickly open the door and slide into the back seat.

'Taxi for Katlyn' I say abruptly, keeping my hood up. It is dark in the car too, the courtesy light out already...

'Aye, yes, Katlyn... The Kings Road, W1' the taxi driver has a northern voice, and seems about to say something else, but I really don't want to engage him in conversation...

'Just drive... ok? please?' he hesitates a moment longer, then shakes his head, letting off the brake, and gliding us out into the wide world.

I'm doing it, I tell myself. I'm really doing it, I'm heading into London, to the taxi company, painted as a...

'Good evening Katlyn' the soft voice is right beside me, in the back of the taxi.

I turn sharply, pulling the hood of my cape back far enough to widen my field of vision...

'Beth?' I ask, but I know I'm wrong, and as my brain catches up, I know who the stranger sat beside me is.

'No, not Beth... not your adorable makeup girl' the voice is strongly American. 'Guess again...;

'What the fuck... Kathryn?' the name catches in my throat and I struggle to get it out.

'Bingo.... Kathryn... but you can call me... well... tonight, I think you can call me Mistress, don't you?' your voice oozing quiet confidence, almost exactly the way I have imagined it a million times.

'Jesus... what are you DOING here?' my mind is racing to catch up with this latest turn of events, I am staring into the darkness beside me but can barely make out her silhouette.

'I wasn't going to let you go through all this on your own now, was I...'

For a moment, the way I am dressed and painted has faded to nought... even the crystal plug is barely a conscious distraction.

'But... we said... Never... we agreed...'

We've said a lot, but here I am, for better or worse'

'You can't just turn up! Not without so much as a...'

'But I can, and I have, and it's done... it wasn't easy you know...'

At that moment the headlights of an oncoming car illuminate us, and I see you properly for the first time. Except I don't. Of course I don't. Because we are going to Furry Night at London's premier fetish club, and I'm sat in the back of the taxi with a cat.

'Fuck' is just about the only word I can get out. 'Fuck fuck fuck' and I feel like Hugh Grant at the start of Four Weddings.

'Nice cape' you whisper quietly, having just glimpsed me in the passing light too.

'Nice whiskers' I retort. I don't have the words to deal with this now. 4 hours ago I was leaving my regular office job. An hour ago I was fucking the sense out of a makeup artist I'd never met before, and now this.

'Here, you look like you might need this...' and in the near blackness, I see you offering a hip flask.

'Magic wine?' I snort, fumbling to take the offered vessel.

'Maybe...'

I hesitate... 'Seriously?'

'Gin, Katlyn. It's Gin!... Magic wine?!... tsk' you are laughing, and then so am I....

'You can hardly blame me' I giggle, then splutter, the neat spirit scorching my throat. 'Fuck it' I exclaim breathlessly, for the umpteenth time.

'You brits really do like your limited set of profanities don't you...' you chuckle with engaging familiarity.

'Fuck me then...' I whisper, clambering across the back of the Mercedes, as if a sudden realisation had just come over me. You might be a stranger to me physically. And you might be unrecognisable to anyone who ever knew you just now. But you know every last detail about my life, and I know yours. You are the reason I am in this cab. You picked my outfit. You suggested the makeup artist. and I fucking love you with all my heart. And here you fucking are.