Gumiho: Our Life Has Just Begun (4)
Chapter 4
The drive "home" was full of the scent of exhaust fumes and dirt roads, underlied with dirty thoughts of how I'd exact vengeance on my quarry--how I would make him reel with the same revulsion he'd made me experience only a half-hour ago. How I'd get even, and quell this new feeling burning inside of me.
It wasn't natural for a fox to harbor this kind of a grudge, but I became obsessed with fulfilling it. It became a hunger that drove me on as we pulled up the long gravel driveway to his house. Catching sight of his mailbox, and the address posted upon it in tacky aluminum plated numbers, the blaze in my heart faded to a contented smolder. It was him--he was the one I was sent to kill. Yes. Yes.
I lept from the truck bed with potent indignation, slunk away and watched the man unload his things and unlock his garage door. Then I circled the house, looking for a discrete way in. Locating a loose basement window, I prodded it open with the bridge of my nose, and slunk inside, my rump wriggling, my tail slipping through as the pane shut behind me.
The basement was stuffy, wet, and smelled of mold and cat piss. I shook my head, wrestling cobwebs from my ears by rubbing it against the floor, forelegs poised to lower my upper body. Cleaning the dust off, I surveyed my environment. I spied a towel that had been used to clean, perhaps dry a mess, or whipe dirt or blood off of hunting equipment. I pulled it down off the toolbench it hung from with my teeth, and crawled beneath it, doing my best to invision the form I wanted to wear, to greet my prey in.
Long, wavy blond hair. Green eyes. Supple pink lips, and an ample busom. They came to replace my pelt and paws, my tail and teats. I felt my senses diminish, while my emotions lingered, intensified. I hated like a human. I lusted for vengeance like an angry woman, and that is what I became. Standing, I wrapped the towel around my nethers, and strolled briskly to the stairs. It wasn't the face of Felicity Jones I wore, but a new one entirely of my imagination.
I slunk up through a dirty kitchen, in an unlit summer home. Bits of cat litter sprinkled about the hardwood floor gritted under my bare toes, as I clung to the shadows, watched the man slip off his jacket and hang it in a closet near his front door. I spied his rifle, and his backpack of gear, and waited for my chance.
"Call it a day, time to catch some Z's. Mr. Mercer'll just have to wait for his bounties I s'pose." he muttered, double checking that he hadn't left anything in the truck.
Finally, a name. Mercer. Someone to blame for my trouble up to this point. It wasn't my offender's name, but it'd do for now--any excuse to say I did more than just vindictively kill a man--I could now go on knowing for sure I was doing this for the family, and not just for myself.
I cursed to myself as he grabbed the rifle up in both arms and carried it up the stairs. I'd certainly given him too little credit, to just carelessly leave a firearm by his front door. Still, I crept over and rifled through his bags, looking for something I could use against him. Anything, maybe his knife.
What I found was infinitely more compelling, if not quite the lethal weapon I'd envisioned. A jar about four inches around, the kind you keep preserves in. What was inside? Not jelly, not jam.
It was fox piss. The fox piss.
"Jackpot." I whispered, suddenly aware of how I'd get my vengeance. Quietly, I made my way up the stairs, making sure my mouse was taking a brisk nap.
I didn't want to startle him. Not while he had his weapon. I didn't know if he'd keep it with him, or store it away somewhere safe--I was no judge of human character--but I was a plenty good judge of what a gun could do to me if I made him panic, and he thought I was a burglar. Instead of entering his room, I slipped into the bathroom next door, and shut myself in, but did not lock the door.
The stuff was liquid evil, I'll be fair. Humans would have a better time washing off from sewer water than fox urine on them. To me, however, it was the nectar of the gods; ambrosia. It smelled like sex, it made my skin tremble as I unscrewed the lid to confirm its potency. Oh yes, this was going to be one hell of a revenge. I felt my nipples harden, made ready to heave the whole mess on him when he came to investigate, and then I slipped into his shower, and turned on the warm water.
Imitating human form is a satisfying business. It means you have the freedom to toy with mice that are your size, with your ego, and have a battle of wits with them that can at times be gratifying, and at others, simple, erotic bliss. The fact that humans deny their animality makes it all the more satisfying to call upon, twisting the most primordial part of them to your ends, scaring them, seducing them, enraging them--making them lose control of the animal they pretend not to be. The ability to disappear, and become something inconsequential to them only amplifies the perversity of the spite. It makes being what I am a true joy--to see those who believe themselves my better put in their rightful place.
I mused on this fact as I washed the smell of the woods from by bare skin, took a washcloth that smelled of maleness, and scrubbed my armpits, my thighs, between my breasts, to elliminate the odor of fox. He mustn't suspect--I did not know how deep his knowledge of us was, but I again, would not take risks while he held the gun. What I was about to do may not be anticipated, but every shred of evidence to cast suspicion on my purpose had to be elliminated.
I cupped my hands together, poured water over my hair, took another, and drank. Finally, I heard the noise of a curious male suitor, ready to investigate the sounds of a stranger in his house. As the door creaked open, I was already pulling a towel around my waist. I set the jar of urine on the sink in the far corner in a blind spot where he wouldn't see it from the door, and made my best seductive pose, looking away, and gradually turning my face to him through wet, hanging bangs as he peaked through the door.
He was a bit pudgy, but had the muscle of a man who spends a good deal of his time outdoors, climbing trees, dragging deer carcasses, maybe even lifting weights when he wasn't out hunting in the wild. He wasn't my type, a bit too much of a good-ol-boy for me, but he wasn't homely, either.
When the expression in his blue eyes changed from one of concern to scrutiny, and then embarassment, I smiled inwardly. "Oh, I'm sorry--I thought no one was here, and I saw your house, so I--I'm so sorry!" I blustered, playing coy. "I got lost looking for my son in the park, and totally ruined my clothes in the woods. I didn't realize anyone even lived this far out!"
I staggered, doing my best to seem embarassed, but not so much so that it seemed like he'd caught me commiting a robbery. I even let my towl slip a little bit. It was pathetic, in the very best sense of the word, how he reacted.
"Well, miss, dya have a name, or am I gonna have to call the police to get one?" he joked.
"Elise Smith," I lied. "Do you maybe have a shirt, or some boxers I could wear? All my stuff is torn up and covered in mud--I threw it away. I'd have made do, but since you're around, you know--" I left out further mention of a son, hoping that it'd touched his heartstrings enough to have him file me as a helpless victim, and not a thief, but not so much that he'd actually think to call the cops, looking for a nonexistant person.
"Right this way, Lis," he gestured, turning away and then winking back to me. Ironic, he used my nickname, even though I'd lied about my real one. It was a little strange, but not so much that I suspected a trap. He didn't strike me as the type.
No, he was headed to his bedroom. I grabbed up the jar, and kept it hidden behind my back. I spied his erection, could read his body language as clear as if it were written on his shirt--he wanted me. Well, he would get me. Just not the way he'd expected.
I spied the room. It was surprisingly nice, despite what I'd seen up to this point--queen sized waterbed, a few tacky crystal baubles hanging from the ceiling, a large wooden dressing table with a mirror standing in profile with the bed. And best of all, no sight of a gun anywhere to be found.
"I don't have much in the way of clothes for a lady of your proportions, but here's some clean underwear and a t-shirt you can slip into?" he asked, leaning down into a drawer, rifling through a number of skivvies I most certainly would not be slipping on today.
"No, that's alright--thanks for offering." I replied, laughing at his gullibility. "I actually had a better idea, and it starts like this--" I hefted the open jar of piss onto his body, soaking him to the skin.
"What the--" he cried in shock, standing up, hair dripping musky urine. It had been completely unexpected, and the effect was beyond what I'd hoped for. I didn't relent--had to make the most of the moment. I slapped him across the face, and opened up with feminine admonishment.
"You pervert, you think I don't see you getting hard for me there?" I scoffed.
Cue human guilt, I thought to myself.
"Now wait a minute, miss, hold on--what are you getting at?" He said, blushing, still dripping, and looking like a sorry mess indeed.
"You think I'm sexy, don't you, and you're going to make a move while I'm in this bath towel. Don't play coy, it's all over your face!" I taunted him, a smug look of righteous indignation on my own.
"Absolutely not, miss Smith, I--I mean, I'd never try something like that."
"Oh, right, you don't find me attractive, of course." I retorted dryly. Now things were getting confused. Nothing like good old fashion chivalry, and the need to placate an angry woman. The onus was on him now to prove he wasn't exploiting me, rather than the other way around.
"I..." he was searching for the right word, to apologize for insulting me. Instead, I relented a bit, dropping some of the sharpness from my remarks. "Oh cmon already. Can't you tell I'm coming onto you, stupid?"
"I, well, I mean--you are?" 'That' got his attention. Boy, what a winner this guy was.
"Cmon, let's get those clothes off you. Sorry about the mess." I said.
"Now wait a minute... you set this up, didn't you?" he said, something dawning. "Took my bait from downstairs. What the hell is this all about, now?"
Shit. Winner-boy had a brain after all. Maybe I'd given the gun too much credit, and not enough to the man.
Cmon Lis, improvise. Think think think.
"...Fuck." I said. So much for ideas--this was starting to turn into a hairbrained scheme... why hadn't I just found a kitchen knife or something and stabbed him? I just had to try and make it poetic justice, didn't I--wait, that was it.
"Fuck me." I demanded, embracing him. "It's true, I went through your things when you came in. I have a kink... a fetish for hunters. I thought it'd make it better if you smelled like one." I lied. "Sorry I didn't have a less messy way to get you into bed."
Cmon, cmon, let your balls do the thinking! my mind screamed at him.
He softened his tone, which only made his next remark even more serious. "You have quite a way to go to seduce me," he said.
I froze, hackles practically growing from my backside and standing on end. My ruse was at an end. I made ready to run, to find something to defend myself with--anything.
"--but it's a long evening, we've got plenty of time, if you don't mind a man who smells like fox piss." He finished, his joking demeanor swiftly butting back in. He pulled his shirt off over his head, walked over to the door, and hung it in a wad over the doorknob.
If there was a God out there, he sure had my back for once. I breathed a sigh of relief that was almost palpable.
"Not at all. Maybe we can finish that shower; make up for the mess I've made," I added, sitting on the bed and dropping my towel. I took a whiff of his newfound smell, and it started to make me shudder. Either this was the best plan for revenge I'd ever thought up, or the stupidest one. I'd fuck him, put a bullet in him while he was floored from the refractory period, and make off as a fox. Without any proof of another human being's presence, the police would have to assume a firearms accident. Not unheard of or entirely unusual in this part of the country. I didn't have fingerprints that matched any human's, so there'd be no way to trace it back to Felicity Jones, either.
As I undid his trousers, I tried to put it in better detail, but his stink was getting the better of me. I was hardly a seductress, not like the Matron by a long shot. She'd captivated her share of humans, many of whom we'd put away, or made into our own, and she had made it into an art. I was a clumsy youngster, only just a margin more talented than wild foxes like the one this man had shot and skinned. In hindsight, becoming seduced myself wasn't such a great idea--but it certainly felt that way, as I sidled up to his hairy chest, feeling him against my smooth arms and back.
He was a human, but looking away, I imagined a sublime mating with a champion renard--a dog fox to be proud of. He inexpertly massaged my breasts, placed his cool hand in the cleft, fingering my mounds, exploring anatomy he probably didn't get many encounters with. In turn, I ran a hand down his leg, fancying his hair to be fur, the blankets he pulled about me a warm tail curled about my frame. He gestured for me to roll over, to face him, and I complied. Human joints made this the method of choice for a personal loving, my breasts against his muscular chest, our bellies cushioning, our legs and arms intertwined.
"Kiss me," he whispered.
I did. Our lips met, and my tongue entered deep into his mouth, exploring, dancing together with his own. And then something... wonderful began to happen. I felt the change in me--felt my fox awaken even as he held me, and the release was something incredible. I felt my belly tighten, my torso becoming muscular, as my teats grew in, flopping onto his belly. He did not seem to notice, or else, he found it as enjoyable as I did, but rather than give him pause for wonder at the source of this newfound softness, I placed a hand around his shoulder, and reached down for his package with the other.
Now I was in for a treat--for the size of his brain, he was hung to compensate twice over. I curled my fingers softly around his balls, and promptly lost control of my restraint, soaking the sheets and his legs with a jet of fresh, hot urine. He flinched for a second, but I continued my minstrations, lovingly caressing his shaft, resting my head against his shoulder as the hot stream poured on with fervor.
"No clue where you're getting all this from, Lis, but god... don't stop." He choked, hard as a rock in my hands. Now the room reeked entirely of fox, and I soon realized, my prospects for revenge were drying up as quickly as the sheets were growing moist. I had to do something. Anything. I was so horny with this schmuck, and he was so close to discovering the truth of my secret.
My body lead the way, showing me deliverance, despite my distrust. Providence, maybe? Dumb luck? Who knows.
"What's your name?" I asked, feeling my tail tenting the blankets as it pushed from my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae, muscle by muscle. My nose too, grew moist, and I knew my nature would be revealed soon--but couldn't care less.
"Harv-Harvey, he gasped, as I brought my tongue up his chest, scratching his balls, and stroking his cock lightly with my fingers, as I curled my nails lightly into the skin of his back. They too began to thicken, changes seeping from every inch of my guise, I was becoming a regular fox-woman with great alacrity.
"Well, Harvey, let me tell you a secret." I whispered to him. I tightened my grip on his shaft. Here it was, the great reveal.
"I'm a fox." I said, licking his ear. And when he turned to see, his face met a whiskered snout, complete with black rhinarium and a broad pink tongue, servicing him with a lick across the cheek and about the nose. The face of an animal, arising from the head of the woman who had been loving him.
"Holy shit... I know I must be dreaming, now." The hunter gasped. He tried to pull free from me, but his strength had, surprisingly, diminished, along with his musculature. He too was changing, much to my silent thrill and /complete/ approbation.
"Oh come on, big hunter. You're not scared of one varmint, are you? Let's finish this." I teased, pulling the covers over us both. Here it was--my revenge had resurfaced, bigger and better than I could have hoped. I understood now--this was how my kind were made--how /I/ had been made. The scent of our corruption polluted the air, bringing my lust to new levels as I widened my maw, sloppily kissing him in the mouth, and resting my bushy tail on his leg. He in turn choked up his own drooling fox's tongue, poorly contained by his still changing mouth. He scrambled, scuffled and tried to escape my tightening grip as what had been to him a sudden and steamy romance began to turn into, what was for me--a delightful rape.
I grabbed his arm, felt the blaze of fur growing up it, and made him admire it as well, getting to my knees over him as he shrank.
"Look at this!" I said, in an 'mmh mmh mmh' sort of tone, making him watch his thumbs shriveling, his fingers fattening as black claws broke from his nails, and thick black hairs matted together, transforming his hands into fox's paws.
"God Lis, make it stop... please..." He begged, tears rolling from his eyes as I forced myself on him for another round of tonguing, shrugging off the covers entirely and lifting my tail high as the last of my fur took bloom. I dug my claws into that meat and planted my biggest, wettest kiss on its face, leaving behind sticky drool and a nose that began popping and contorting into a muzzle--ears that rapidly stretched high over a head that was losing human hair.
"Nu uh." I decided firmly, lifting a leg and changing position. I waved my tail in the air, fanning foul musk, and lowered my vulva close to his face. The slit had thick folds of skin, was covered in light black fur, and reeked with the promise of my estrus.
"I dun wantho be a foxth," he complained, his speach slurring as his newfound mouth took form.
"Tough shit." I hissed. I lowered myself inevitably, teasing his face, and finally rammed my rear end down upon his snout so that he could barely breathe without opening his mouth to lick. Supporting myself with still-human knees, and hanging my tail over one of his arms, I began to provide his member with a much-needed handjob.
"Ackth... ptoo... stop... unh!" He grunted, trying to clear his mouth of my juices, and his own thickening saliva. But it was too late. I had my mouse now, and it seemed I would be making him a part of me after all.
I continued petting his little huntsman, trying my best not to let my pawpads thicken and abrade the delicate skin. As I worked, his foreskin began to thicken and stretch, joining with his belly, sprouting fine white hairs. Soon it began to engulf his penis entirely.
"One hot dog-fox, coming right up." I sang, feeling his snout stretch into me, prodding me wide open, his hot tongue licking helplessly as he tried to bark more complaints. I stifled them, pulling my ass high and bringing my mouth down around his cockhead as I squeezed his sheathed member.
His last scream was like song to my ears--not a man's scream--but the cry of a fox calling for a mate. As my thick canid lips engulfed his member, I felt and tasted his hot spunk gushing into my mouth, licked his smoothening skin, tongued the tip of his member, licking his piss slit intensely for each precious drop. As I continued, I heard the drag of his shoulders across the bed, shrinking away, literally heard the sheets moving as his form shriveled down from the mountain man of three quarter hours ago, into the stinking varmint he was now becoming.
I pulled my maw up from the smooth, slick red cock, and held it for him triumphantly to see as his skull began to flatten and change its orientation with his spine. He could just barely glimpe the curved, nozzle-shaped tip through changing yellow eyes, and a growing third eyelid, red in his socket, but his eyes widened nonetheless, and I knew his terror all too well--it was one of the sensations of my birth I never let go of. His humanity and his identity, slipping away fast.
"You see this? You're one of us now!" I screamed, angrily. "Now fuck me, you piece of shit!"
I dropped to all fours, flagged my tail to the side, and waited for his inevitable advance, knowing full well the transformation that was about to take his mind.
He would soon be dead. My perfect murder.